West Australian Perth 9 April 1931, page 3
GOLD DIGGERS OF LARKINVILLE
by E H. Pellee
Digging for alluvial gold is an occupation that fascinates. The luck of the game, the free open-air life, the fact that a goldfields worker is his own master, and the wonderful mateship of those who seek gold together, are all alluring elements. No men are more loyal to community laws than gold diggers, none more tender or true to a mate or comrade stricken by sickness, and none more generous to those unfavoured by fortune.
Old goldfields traditions are being faithfully observed at Larkinville. Young men, to whom the magic memories of old Coolgardie are but history, are learning the ethics of the alluvial field from those who have spent their lives prospecting from the Cross to Kurnalpi and from Norseman to Leonora. The history of Larkinville is much the same as that of any other alluvial field in Western Australia, with the added interest of the finding of the famous Golden Eagle nugget — 1,135oz. 15dwt, of pure gold. An old prospector told me that the discovery of this treasure seemed to stun the 30 or 40 diggers who gathered about the Larcombe claim as the good news flashed over the field.
“I didn’t bother to go across to see it when I first heard them call out,” said a sceptic. ”But when I heard they were trying to weigh it with a 70lb. bag of sugar, I guessed that it must be a slug worth seeing. One glance was enough, and I joined those who simply stood and stared — struck dumb. But when Jim Larcombe had changed his clothes and left with the nugget for the bank at Kalgoorlie, Babel broke out, and never, in all the years I have been out after gold, have I known such excitement. Then it became a case of feverish action inspired by the wonderful find.
We got some laughs out of the begging letters showered on Jim. One came from a widow. ‘I have five daughters,’ she said ‘Can you marry one o’em!’ Larkinville is named after Mick Larkin, who, with his mate, ”Bobby” Clough, discovered payable gold there. Clough had specked seven ounces years ago while sitting on the stump of a tree on the present East lead. His death from meningitis just before news of the good results of the first crushing from the reefing lease was received, is greatly regretted by all who knew this popular prospector. ”The effects of hard years of battling and living too long on tucker that doesn’t nourish a man settled him at the finish,’ said one who mourns the loss of a good friend.
Tales of luck that came too late are mingled with yarns of finds made just in time. Gold was first loamed at Larkinville on Easter Monday last year (1931). Leases were granted and Larkinville declared a goldfield on August 14. Alluvial gold was specked after the September rains. Trouble occurred that November when diggers rushed the prospecting area. The Warden came from Kalgoorlie then to straighten matters out. He declared the alluvial ground Crown land. The Warden’s Court was held in the open air, and, assisted by officials of the Progress Association, a ballot for alluvial claims was held. One hundred and sixty-eight men drew lots. They were escorted to their claims in squads of ten and found their names already on the pegs indicating the individual areas, each 25 yards square. Work began on the following morning, and one man discovered a 36oz. slug within ten minutes of starting. He had been worrying about a sick wife and family in want. At once hurrying away, he reached the hospital only to find his wife dead.
A brighter tale is told of another old prospector who was just about down and out, with a mate so ill it was feared he would die. Arrangements were made to send the sick man to the Kalgoorlie Hospital, but the day he was to go a big slug shaped like a boomerang turned up. The good news revived the invalid and no more was heard of his sickness, a miracle probably due to the fact that nourishing food and plenty of it was at once available. The good luck of the pair continued, and despair gave way to the exhilaration of success, with the opportunity to get into Coolgardie or Kalgoorlie for a revel occasionally. ”Boomerang,” as they call one of these digger mates, discoursed lengthily to me one day as I sat sketching, on the joys of ”a big bust” from which he was recovering. ”You know” he said, ”it’s all very fine for wowsers to say a man mustn’t get drunk. What are they going to give us in place of a good spree? It’s the only bit of fun some of us get. And it does a man no harm.”
‘But what about your poor old eyes?” I ventured to ask, with a pitying glance at a pair of sunken, bleary orbs, set in watery wells surrounded by swellings so inflamed to be scarcely recognisable as eyelids. ”I will give you some boracic for them.” ”Don’t you worry about my eyes,” he said. ”They’ll be as clear as yourn in a day or two.” I did not remain long enough in Larkinville to prove this statement, but, if eyes can recover from sprees as quickly as they show the effects of a jamboree, perhaps he was right.
One man I met in Larkinville — out there alert-brained, bright-eyed and energetic — seen in Coolgardie after two days of rejoicing in Kalgoorlie, was a sorry spectacle from the clear-eye standpoint. The most pathetic figure on the Larkinville field is a decrepit old man they call ”Horizontal.” It is his first prospecting venture, and he works alone, early and late, leaving his camp at dawn comparatively erect, but shuffling back at midday and at night with back bent at a right angle. His eyesight is not good enough for a gold-seeker. Often the boys stop and pick out ”colours” unnoticed by him in the refuse from his shaker. ”Is that gold ?” he invariably asks in quavering tones, as his trembling fingers feel for the precious metal. Several times he has thrown away good-sized slugs, which, fortunately for him, have been noticed by keen young friendly eyes. It is the general opinion that the tailings on his claim, when ”Horizontal” has finished working it, will be worth a bit to a dryblower.
Goldfield Characteristics: After the finding of the Golden Eagle at Larkinville early in January, more trouble, due to misunderstanding of the mining laws, was experienced. Alluvial diggers rushed the gold mining leases, and a bevy of police had to be brought from Kalgoorlie to restore order. Now, ownership rights are better realised, and the days pass usually with no greater sensation than the occasional welcome cry of ”Slug-oh!” And no man grudges his neighbour’s good luck. Trust in each other’s honesty is a characteristic of alluvial diggers. Thieves have no place on a goldfield. Force of public opinion makes bolts, bars and locks unnecessary. Money or gold is left in a tent at Larkinville without a qualm. More than ordinary sneak-thief nerve would be required to steal. A quick method of elimination would speedily bring about detection, a miners’ court summoned by banging a tin dish with a stick would be held, and the culprit would be lucky if ignominious expulsion from the field was the only punishment administered.
Attire at Larkinville varies greatly. The khaki-clad always look the neatest and cleanest. Some men favour shorts and the tops of brilliantly coloured but attenuated bathers. Others are picturesque in dungaree trousers, which attain a lovely shade of leschenaultia blue after many washings, and grey flannel, striped, coloured, or near white shirts. Sleeveless singlets also are popular, while some of the younger men strip to the waist. I was told that the tramwaymen who arrived from Perth during my stay at Larkinville could be easily picked out because they looked so clean. Hat styles range from battered old felts, so moulded by months or years of constant wear in rain and shine, that their wearers can be recognised by them from afar. White topees are soon the same shade as brown ones. One man, an old Klondyke digger, wears either a wide-brimmed Stetson or an Alaskan fur cap. No mid-week or Saturday half-holiday is taken. Sunday mornings are reserved for washing clothes and camp cleaning, and Sabbath afternoons are devoted to sport. Cricket and football matches, according to the season, are played against teams from Coolgardie, St lves, Kurrawang, and Norseman.
Open-air concerts are held on Saturday nights on the roadway in front of ”The Eagle Store.” Many of the men sing and recite well, and give good performances on various instruments. Occasionally a moving picture outfit owned by an Indian comes along, and good programmes are screened. Collections are taken up, but the smallness of the average ”taking” (average about 30shillings) turns these shows into public benefactions. The Indian operator is held in high esteem, as he arrived once to find that his intended presentation clashed with a service to be conducted by the Bishop of Kalgoorlie, and passed on, leaving the field clear for the Churchman. St. Patrick’s Day was enthusiastically observed in Larkinville.
Everyone wore green. if only a few leaves pulled from a shrub. Lucky possessors of ribbon rosettes crowed over those whose decorations were of impromptu type. Dog owners vied with each other in an effort to have their pets festooned the most liberally with streamers of emerald green crepe paper. Many men took a day off, but from claims where work went on as usual, or from camps wherein the owners and their friends loafed and yarned, came continuously the strains, whistled or sung, of ”There’s a Dear Little Shamrock,” and other Irish songs. An all-night dance at Widgiemooltha, seven miles away, finished up the Saint’s Day celebrations of many Larkinvillians.
Moya Sharp
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