Page:Through South Westland.djvu/86

34 golden harvest; when, on many a moonlight night every man, woman, and even child, might have been seen digging frantically on the tide-line at some low ebb, when certain bands of black sand were exposed; running the sand up in barrows, carrying it in baskets, heaping up the precious harvest above high-water mark, working with mad haste till the tide turned and covered these gold-bearing sands until the next low tide. Then the days following would be spent “washing,” and many a one would carry his billy full of good yellow gold to sell it to the rude little bank, and find he was the richer by a few hundreds after a lucky spell. But it was “lightly come, lightly go,” with most of them, and few, it seemed to me, kept their riches to any useful purpose. They were ever on the move—the fever for ever driving them to try new diggings, where, as often as not, they found nothing. There seems to have been a strong code of honour among them—that respected each other’s gains: was there not an equal chance for every man? Where there was no regular police, public opinion safeguarded the digger.

The road comes to Okarito winding by tree-clad promontories and broad bays of the wide lagoon, which stretches its silvery fingers far among the hills. It is partly tidal; at low water there are pearly-coloured tide-flats where busy