LURE OF GOLD

Rotorua Morning Post, Volume 2, Issue 317, 2 September 1932, Page 3

LURE OF GOLD

WEST COAST LUCK HEARTBRE AKIN G QUEST IN WILD SOUTHERN COUNTRY. NOT NEWCHUM JOB. Christchurch, Saturday. " Some idea of the heartbreaking task undertaken by many men, young and old, who in sheer desperation have deserted the eities and have made their way to the West Coast in search' of gold, was gained by a Sun reporter who this week visited and saw at worlc several prospectors in a lonely part of the Goast. Optimists are all of them, except those who have "given up the ghost" after the first few days, and although they all say they manage to get enough to buy a loaf of bread occasionally, one does not need to go far to satisfy himself of the Kardships suffered by those men, all of whom are confident that some day they will find an E1 Dorado. The district visited was a few miles from Westport, the bad of Conn's Greek, where several prospectors were operating, and where much gold has been found in years gone by. The first party visited comprised three men, two elderly and one young, who said they were working on the "dole," a term used by nearly every person on the West Coast when referring to relief work. Cheery Fellows. These three wore clothes and hoots which had certainly seen better days, but despite their poverty they were cheery, and hoped to get a few dwts that day. "Just enough to buy a loaf of bread," one of them remarked. The youngest of the three swung a heavy hammer at the h'ead of a cold chisel prising apart great boulders, while the other two shovelled gravel and sand into a sluicing box placed in the water. Slowly the gravel washed clean, and one with *good eyesight could discern tiny specks of gold in the bottom of the box. But every shoveful did not produce a speck, or a "colour," to quote the term used by the prospectors. Many shovels of material might be put through' the box before tbere was tbe slightest sign of colour. A few dwts would certainly be all they would get for several hours of patient toil. "No," remarked one of them, "this l is certainly no place for a chap from the city. There were a couple of Christchurch chaps working farther • up-stream, but they've turned it in." One left tbe party with the feeling , 1 that those men deserved all they won, and certainly a lot more. But what they were doing- was by no means as heart-breaking as what seemed to be the enormous task being carried out by a pair a few miles farther up the river, in what appeared to be the loneliest spot in the world. The attention of the reporter was attraeted by an explosion which appeared to come somewhore from the bowels of the earth to the right. Investigation disclosed the entrance of „ a tunnel in the hill. He ventured into what turned out to be a drive. With head bent low, he waded through water and mud, and at every yard water dripping from the roof of the tunnel would triclcle down his neclc. Looking for a Reef. Some distance in could be seen the faint glow of a lamp, and presently a bewhiskered face peered out of the gloom. (It was the face of an elderly man, and with him was another, scarcely out of his teens. They were, they explained, looking for a reef, and one could not help but admire their pluck. Inch by inch, they were driving their way through that great bushclad hill, with a 1 in 10 chance of success. For this they were getting a Government subsidy, and called it "dole" work. They had to have blasting powder, and this cost something. "No, we don't make anything," said the young fellow, "but a chap must do something." Working in what was little more than a rabbitwarren, and in water and slush up past their ankles did not s'eem to worry him. The bewhiskered one only smiled. He was old at the game, and was still hopeful of making a strilce. The river was crossed by means of a cable chair, and the reporter was taken by his guide some distance into the bush. Many old drives, evidence of dozens who had visited the place before and failed, were passed, and presently, in a small clearing, stood - a forge. It had been "rigged" by a young fellow, who for three years has operated in those lonely parts, hack- - ing his way through' hundreds of feet of rock and bush, in an ever-hopeful effort to make his fortune. Somewhere, from what seemed miles under the earth, came a rumble, and presently there appeared a young man with a weatherbeaten facc wreathed in smiles. Ile wheeled s harrow laden with spnil taken from his tunnel about 200 feet long. It was seldom he saw a visitor, and he was lceen to shaw the results of his years of digging. His was a spirit that had to be admired. Bending low again the visitoi scrambled through what seemed miles of tunnel. From the main drive others led off, domonstrating how this young \ prospector had frantically followed a particular crevice in the hope of finding gold. "This is 'Golden Avenue,' he said; pointing to a particularly slushy tunnel. Asked why he called it that, he pointed to a small ledge saying, "Thai is where I found a piece weighing six pennyweights. And good coarse gold, too." Many "avenues" were' visited, and the young fellow explained what gave him a lead to the spot where gold might be found. A blockage in one oi the tunnels stood as evidence of many days of hard work spoiled, A section of the roof had fallen in. "Ahvays Hopeful." "And do you really think this i£ worth while?" h'e was asked.