Rain Music by Di Morrissey

Author:Di Morrissey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pan Macmillan Australia
Published: 2015-09-11T04:00:00+00:00

July, 1893

My Dear Parents,

Please forgive me, it has been several months since I last picked up my pen, but now I want to relate to you an amazing adventure that I have just undertaken. I have been to the goldfields! Such a journey, I hardly know where to begin.

I was very surprised one day immediately after our morning prayers when Reverend Mother told me that the good bishop has seen fit to grant my desire to see the goldfields as he wants to ascertain if it is possible to rescue some of the young girls from the diggings and bring them to St. Mary’s. The bishop is of the view that the profligate waste of money by the miners might be better spent providing an education for their daughters. Father O’Brien has arranged to take Reverend Mother to Maytown and I am to accompany them.

Hearing this news, I tried not to look too excited as I felt that would be undignified, so I thanked Reverend Mother for her kind consideration and asked when we would be leaving. She replied that we would set out as soon as possible, so as not to be caught out in the rainy season.

As stagecoaches are not suitable transport to the goldfields – the passes are very narrow and the country is extremely rough, having many steep ravines and barely hewn tracks – we set out in a small cart, which the good Father drove. We were escorted by two outriders and followed by a dray pulled by sturdy horses and driven by a brutal-looking man, who spoke very little. We travelled on the track where the carriers haul their loads. In places, the way was so narrow that we could see where mining machinery, hauled for the mines, had gouged into the sandstone rocks that lay alongside. Wild the country may have been, but the great spread of land through which we travelled was beautiful to see.

On the first night the riders made a campfire and we had tea, bully beef and damper for our supper. Sleeping in the cart was cramped and not at all comfortable, but there were no other arrangements possible. However I did enjoy the open air and being able to look up at the stars.

The next day we had to face the most worrying part of the track. It is called Hells Gate Pass, and it is so named for good reason. Reverend Mother and I both said our rosary as we entered it. The dray scraped against the sides of the vertical rock walls and the men dismounted to lead their horses, watching upwards to where massive boulders were balanced precariously. I had to turn away at the sight of the skeletons of packhorses who had taken a misstep on the terraces and fallen to their deaths. But we passed through without misadventure, reaching a timbered valley, eerily silent, with a deep gorge on one side and huge dark rocks on the other. There, we were horrified to come across human remains.

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