THE MORNING STAR REEF.

Cromwell Argus, Volume I, Issue 38, 3 August 1870, Page 7

THE MORNING STAR REEF.

uj fl By Donald Cameron.

id I (From the Australian Journal) ■® filouT as unlucky a miner. as ever trod y Ictorian soil was stout, honest John y Batson, a tine strapping young fellow, six feet high, with a broad gooda* Imoured face, a curling brown beard, two nfcuish eyes adapted for the language of and altogether quite an Apollo in a ' - f'jpall way. Madame Fortune, however, v’ lea good many of her sex, appears to ;t ’ |t altosr+her favour the good-looking. Honest Jj*dn never had had a stroke of § mate who had come out with l $ ra—asnigly a wretch as ever was created l ®;. -had lighted upon a perfect nest of nug/<i,i its a month after his arrival. John 10 (! jughtxthe claim from him after he had orked it for some time, and never a nugit was found in it afterwards. John “ j egged out a claim on a new rush ; but, [though the claims on both sides were 63 effect “jeweller’s shops,” John never saw s P ecl j of g°hl in his ground. He abanoned it. Mark the result: a party jumped nf.,[ and they struck gold next day ! It was evi‘ lie same in every other instance. John ist managed to get his living, and barely '. ..•' Buit j and yet, take him all in all, he was s decent, honest, and sober a miner as °7 ou could find in the whole colony. ,vj;i Now, if John were a free agent, all this Did hght have been borne without much comjto hunt, for a young man who has no one y Spending upon him but ego—t} lat impor■\i ant individual can generally get along a-etty well, whether Fortune smiles or no; Amt with my hero it was different. He cn “id left the old farm in Devonshire to 0 nake the fortune of the whole family in golden Australia. There were in that old R 0 Devon cottage an old mother, weak and rjcr liel Pf ess ’ cas^u g her almost sightless eyes , p continually towards the gate in the expects tationof “Johnny” coming marching home igain, and a pretty golden-haired sister ever on the look-out for dear handsome 5 brother John. But more than that, just ad a le ane bhere was a pretty darkle J?bd, whose dreams bv night and ’ day were of the handsome youth who had *j placed on her finger a betrothal ring, and .I w b° had promised ta come back soon and make her his bride. That they had not forgotten him, he had monthly proof, for they sent him letters innumerable, full of ithe warmest love ; three letters to his one. JBnt what could poor John do? Only fret ■Jand fume and rail at Fortune, and delve J mto the ground harder, in hope of realis- , ging tne daydream that had illuminated the aheyday of his youth with such a brilliant Slight. | Vf affcer a morle than usual run of e^liadl uck, John went into the great town if s of Gafc i and, calling at the post-office, a|| o°t some letters from home. They con.jl tained news of an overwhelming character. 1 1l 18 mot^er bad been unable to pay the ailc f bad been given notice to quit the 4l?: ( 111 at 10 end of the quarter. Sister e [Nellie was sick to death’s door, with no jgmoney to pay for medical attendance ; and (H sweetheart Lucy was nearly worn to a H shadow in her efforts to resist the determiM nation of her parents to marry her to a certain “ warm” bachelor of fifty summers, awho was known throughout the neighborI hood for his skill in curing bacon. Truly i was obeerful news. John had only |, . sum oi ' six shillings and threepence in ins pocket; he was not worth a pound, I and indeed, he was heavily in debt. A I ught look-out, truly. You may be sure his handsome eyes were very, very clouded that day. But what was the use? He might like a poor bird in a cage, strike himself against the barriers that surrounded him, but they were too stupendous for a giant to move. . What did Jobn do ? He did just what ninety men out of a hundred would do in Jus place. He went and got thoroughly roaring” drunk, and spent the six shillings and threepence in very indifferent, but stimulating—or, rather, maddeningbrandy, at fat Mother Boucher’s; who on learning, about ten o’clock at night, that lie was cleaned out, ordered her bully-in-general to take him neck and crop, and consign him to the outside of the hovel to flounder in a mass of mud the feet of many of her customers had made. There like Christian and Pliable in the Slough of Despond, he floundered, trying to m:t out of towards where Mother Bouchers hovel stood; but, as is often the case with men in his obfuscated state, he got out on the wrong side (but ultimately tlie right one, as the sequel will show), and found himself on a dry place, looking at the stars. He expressed surprise at the \ number of stellar luminaries that were \ °, ut to -mgbt, t and remarked that they lad peeped out of their azure coverlid just Shave a look at his misery — unkind shingones; but he affirmed they were quite j* tipsy as hje > since they could not keep |Cady for a moment. He also accused Mother Earth of having imbibed too much Jrdew, as, whenever he attempted to rise, «To always flew up and hit him, which , Jas wrong on her part. Finally, his mood : ■banged ; he wept maudlin tears, and la- ; ; Jiented the unkindness of his fate, till liddenly inspired, he bethought him so If iserable a life had better be done with ; • ho therefore got up— after much

wrestling with Mother Terra, whom lie addressed in harsh terms—and sought a neighbouring tree, to u branch of which, after infinite trouble, ho affixed his belt, which he then placed in a knot round his nock. The belt broke, and down ho toppled. He then took out his pocket-knife, and drew it several times across his throat; but either Fate had blunted it (or, what was more likely, cutting tobacco), or ho only used the back of it, for it did not even make a mark. In this predicament our hero threw away the knife with a curse, swearing that Fortune was the unkindest jade out, since she would not even let him put an end to his wretched life. Sleep, Nature’s sweet restorer, according to Dr Young, now took him in hand, and he sank into temporary forgetfulness to the music of a bullfrog, who was serenading the stars in a neighbouring puddle. John afterwards swore he never slept at all, only just dosed off to wake to the realities of his position in a few moments. So 'we shall give his version of the story, premising, however, that several of his friends were of opinion his reputed vision was brandy inspired. A sudden change seemed to come over nature, which so surprised him that he sat up. The sky assumed a deep purple hue, and the stars seemed balls of sparkling gold and silver, floating on its surface. The colour of everything increased in depth, and became intensely vivid ; a light seemed to come from all objects, and the meeting of these radiances caused the production of hues too beautiful to describe. Even- the bullfrog changed : from a bald-pated, bigmouthed, ugly fellow, he was metamorphosed into a pretty bird, which sang one of the sweetest strains of music that ever ravished human ear. It was as if the hand of some mighty enchanter had been waved over the scene. “ John Watson!” It was his own prosaic name (which, no doubt, was a doubtful one at first, originating, perhaps, in what’s son), uttered by a sweet small voice, like the piping of a canary. He turned to look at the speaker, and, of a verity, by his side stood a fairy —an Australian fairy. But such a fairy ! She was a wee body, about a foot high, very pretty, but —quite black. Now, who ever heard tell of a black fairy 1 What a lusus natura. There was no rule or precedent for it in all the fairy stories John had ever read—and they had been innumerable. But although the little lady was ot a good standing colour, warranted not to fade on washing, she was withal very pretty. Her features were regular, and she looked something like a little statue hewn out of black marble. Her great feature was her eyes, which bore sembl nice to some pink fluid gyrating in a molten state round two little black balls, which were the pupils ; and, although these were black, there flashed from them a light that went right into John’s soul. She was dressed in a robe of that beautiful hue which is the characteristic of the Aurora Australis, touched here and there with bits ot gold. Round her neck was a string of diamonds, scintillating brilliantly, and on her ebony arms were bracelets of rubies aud diamonds. “I want to show you something, John Watson,” said the fairy, pointing with her black finger to the ground beside her. He looked, and saw, as it were, a white foam bubbling up through the grass, and then disappearing again. “John,” said the fairy, “when the night is darkest, then may the dawn be expected; when shadows fall upon the path of our life, then let us look for the morning star that is the forerunner of a brilliant day. Your troubles are ended ; you shall be happy.” Our hero thought he had heard the first of this speech before, ahd shrewdly suspected that the ebony image was wittily plagiarising some popular moralist—perhaps Martin Tapper. However, the latter part of her speech was eminently satisfactoiy. “ Come with me,” said the fairy, “ and you will see the mystery which has puzzled all your great geologists—the formation of quartz-reefs. I will show you the home of the gold ; show you that the reefs are the products of fire.” To tell the truth, John was a bit of a geologist, and notwithstanding the surrounding circumstances, as ho was a great stickler for the aqueous theory he felt inclined to hold a dispute with her Darkness ; but this she prevented. She quietly took hold ot his hand, arid they sank down into the earth faster than Babbage’s machine could calculate. But the strangest thing about it was that the opaqueness of the earth seemed removed, and John could see right through it, as if it were but chrystal. At last they stopped. And where 1 On the confines of a molten ocean, in a state of incandescence, that boiled and bubbled and shone with a thousand lights, as each metal or substance was decomposed by the heat. It was the nucleus of the earth the primeval elements in a state of combustion. And as the mighty mass rolled and bubbled up into the crevices it made for itself relief in the firm crust around, and John saw how reefs are made. He saw that the waves'of molten silica (for such it appeared to him), ever and anon finding the space too confined for them, made a passage through the upper crust, leaving a

largo rent or fissure as they returned. They kept continually rushing up this aperture, until it became blocked up, for as the molten matrix came into contact with the walls ol the fissure, it was congealed, and so in the course of time a solid reef was formed by incrustations. It was ingenious, certainly, John confessed. Then the black fairy touched Jus hand, and up they came again into the world above. “John Watson,” said the fairy, “the dayspring is at hand. When you wake from what you think is but a dream of the night-watches, look beside you at the moss covered rock. ■ In it lies your fortune.” “May 1 ask,” said'he, “ the name of the benevolent being whom I now address? Are you the Fairy of Gold, or the Genius of Australia ?” “ io those who ask little few lies will be told,” said the fairy, “I am the Austral Morning Star.” Ere our horo.could remonstrate on the absurdity of a black morning star, the strange appearance fled, the sky assumed the cold gray appearance of dawn, the earth its accustomed look, and the pretty bird changed to an ugly bullfrog, croaking faintly in the puddle. The dream faded away like a morning cloud that vanishes before the eye can fix its hue and form. He awoke. The dawn was breaking in the east, and its grey light was spreading over the sky, in place of the royal Tyrian glow he had bsheld in his dream. He was cold and wet, and around him the dew silvered the green blades of grass. The stars were fading into the bright blue of heaven’s vault. But one still shone undiminished. It was the Morning Star. The words of the fairy in his dream came into his mind, and he looked on the ground close to him. There, sure enough, was an outcrop of quartz, covered with gray moss. He looked intently at it, and joy unspeakable ! beheld pure yellow gold mixed with the gray moss, forming such a sight as he had never seen or imagined. _ And thus was the Morning Star Reef discovered. further need be said? Who has not heard of the great Morning Star Reef, on which is now erected many an engine, and from whence have come hundreds of thousands of pounds worth of sparkling gold ? Who has not heard of John Watsotp the rich reefer, whose mansion rises no great distance from the spot where he lay when he dreamed of what, his friends call the Aboriginal, Fairy? Who has not heard how llis first crushing was 1000 ounces ; and how soon there came out from home his dear old mother, his sweet sister, and, dearest and sweetest of all, the pretty English girl who so soon became Mrs Watson ? Who has not ?—are not the annals of all these interesting events, yea, and much more, contained in the pages of that influential paper, the Dead Caf Advertiser 1 The black fairy has never appeared to John since; but, in gratitude' to her, he has named the source of his fortune the Vlokxing Star Rkef.