Arrived at Lake Darlot, I found work being carried on well and with energy, as could not fail to be the case where Dave Wilson was concerned.  Poor Jim and Paddy had had hard times, before Wilson arrived, to make the provisions last out.  Nevertheless they had worked away on the reef without complaint, while others around them were waxing rich on the alluvial.

The population had increased to some two thousand men during my absence:  two thousand men working and living in order and peace, with no police or officials of any kind within two hundred miles—­a state of affairs of which we may justly be proud.

Evil-doing, however, was not entirely absent, and occasional cases of robbery of gold, or pilfering of tents occurred; the offenders in such cases were usually caught and summarily dealt with.

A “roll up” would be called, and those who cared to put themselves forward, would form judge, jury, police, and all.  The general verdict was notice to quit within so many hours—­an order that few would dare to neglect.  A case in which this did happen occurred at Kurnalpi when a man was caught passing bad notes in the “Sunday School.”  He refused to budge, and, seeing that he was a great giant with the reputation of being the roughest and hardest fighter in the country, the question arose who should “bell the cat.”  The man who had been swindled was a stranger, and unwilling to fight his own battle; who, therefore, would volunteer to get a sound hammering from one of the toughest blackguards in Australia.

The “roll up” slowly dispersed, every man muttering that it was not his business, and that, after all, passing a “stiff ’un” on to a new chum was no great crime as compared to stealing gold or robbing a camp.  In this I think they showed sound judgment.  The prize-fighting gent, however, became too bumptious, and was eventually hustled out of the place.

Our camp at Lake Darlot was rather pleasantly situated on rising ground by the side of the blow; behind us, sheer cliffs of conglomerate, worn and weathered into queer little caves, the floors of which were covered inches deep by the droppings of bats and small wallabies; and, stretching away to the South, an open plain enclosed in an endless sea of scrub.  Every morning we witnessed the strange phenomenon of a lake appearing in the sky to the South, miles away, above the scrub, a lake surrounded by steep white cliffs.  This mirage would last perhaps half an hour, and was, I suppose, a reflection of Lake Darlot, which lay at the back of us, some five miles distant to the North.