Latest from the Palmer

Cromwell Argus, Volume VI, Issue 274, 9 February 1875, Page 7

Latest from the Palmer

m - (Walcatip Mail.) Although the recent mania amongst many of our rosulnnts for rushing away to this reported new Eiderado is fast fading, some good purpose may stiil be served in allaying any remaining desire or restlessness which may exist, by making public from time to time, various accounts—especially when the narratives are from reliable private resources, such as that below, which is from the pen ui an old sattler, who left here for the Palmer gold fields over four months ago, and has recently returned, the letter having been received by J. T. Crofts, of this town ; " Tnvercargill, 12th January, 1875. "Being an old resident in the Wakatip district for many years, I wish to inform my old friends that are inclined to go to the Palmer diggings not to be in too great a hurry, for I left the Wakatip, being induced to go there by flattering news appearing in different papers, which stated, among many other good things, that diggers were getting from one to four ounces per day per man. Now, I believe that some men who were on the field when Sandy Creek broke out did get that for a few days. What is called washdirt is scattered on the reef amongst a little clay, and all one can use is a tin dish. Some of them have got a cradle; but, as far as I saw, it took men all their time to get from one to four pennyweights per day, and it took all that to keep them in tucker, besides having to stand a climate fit for no white man—men dying in all directions from fever, ague, and dysentery, and many other diseases which 1 never heard of before. There are also al! sorts of venomous animals, such as flies, ants, musquitos, centipedes, tarantulas, scorpions, snakes, and all sorts of pests that you can mention. You never can get a minute's peace to yourself, night or day; and the sun is that hot during a portion of the day that you are neither able to walk or work. The road you have to travel on going up to the diggings from Cooktown is sometimes knee-deep, and so hot that you can scrcely bear it, and sometimes you have to travel a long way without water. But, of all the pests, the blacks are the worst, for you are never sure wherf tHey will come upon you—night or day. People always have their firearms in order as they travel up the country. Two men that left Queenstown—M'Donald and Hope—had their horses speared by the blacks. It was a bad job for them, as they could have got £SO a-head for the horses, but, after all, they considered themselves lucky in having escaped unhurt, as some men on the track a little ahead had been speared. " The sun is so hot that you are not-fit to carry your swag, and consequently all that can afford it get horses. At the time I went the price of horses was very high, and by the time we arrived at Cooktown,'and-k-sd bought horses and an outfit, and paid our passage from New Zealand, it cost us about £65 each. Seeing so many graves on our road up on all sides of the track, and so many dying on the diggings from fever—while -we could not get as much gold as would find us in ' tucker,' and besides, the wet season coming on—we resolved, before too late, to return to New Zealand, where we could get a sound night's rest. At the Palmer I have risen in the morning blistered from head to foot with poisonous'bites from insects, and all I have to say is, that if you want to see hardship and misery, go to the Palmer, and as you go up you will see painted on the trees —' This is the road to death and h — 11! Return? " I am, yours, &c, " Frank Forster."