Old Pop Goodwin my mothers father, packed up and moved the family to Lithgow around 1914.Times were tough for a tin and gold miner around the Tinga area and there were good jobs at the Steelworks ..or the Hoskins Works known as Australian Iron and Steel.
Once there and camped down on the Vale of Clyde, it took a while for that precious job to eventuate. So.. Pop being a miner and the nearby Cox's River being a gold bearing stream, Pop decided to fill in the meantime by prospecting a likely spot not far off the Raglan road.
It was the height of summer and the incessant hum of cicadas and clouds of bush flies were the order of the day. It was getting on in the afternoon and the unbearable heat of the day prompted the old bloke to seek a shady spot a little further up the stream.
First one pan and then two more confirmed it.. Gold! not a couple of specks as is the norm these days..but gold in abundence, gold! wonderful shining heavy and right through the whole wash in the pan. Gold! Untouched by human hands since it washed here eaons ago.
And here it was, his for the taking. Only, he was'nt equipped to mine all this lot, he would need his shovels, his pick, some sheet iron to make a grate for a banjo, blankets to line the sluice trench and sqared off timber for the riffles, tucker and and a bed roll, everything then some. It would mean he would have to pack up for the day ,get back to the family, organise the gear he would need... try to keep a lid on the find he had made, a thousand things and then some went roaring through his gold feverish mind.
To town, as soon as he could get there, to town and never mind the climb back out to the road to.. to town, to town! and never mind the blackberries , to town as fast as his powerful legs could carry him to town, scrambling up over log and branch, through the thickest of the blackberries was the shortest way out..to town and.... then the fall! ...backwards tumbling, tearing, bleeding and crumpled in a heap in the thickest of the berries.
He lay there for how long he knew not. It was getting darker, he knew that much and there was another thing he sensed, something piecing silent and ..deadly in the form of the gaze of a tiger snake. Three or four foot of it erect and agitated, slowly swaying from side to side.. its fork tounge, flicking and caressing the air around it, seemingly waiting for his slightest move to launch itself at his head.
For some strange reason that did'nt make sense his hat was still on his head. He had worn that hat all through his days at Tinga an old felt job in the "Wide- Awake" style. Now with this menace not two or three feet from his face it was his only chance of coming out of this unscathed. Slowly,almost imperceptably, he reached with his hand for it,inch by inch ever fearful of a telling blow from the tigersnake, until at last he had his hat clenched tightly in his hand.
Timing was going to be the "be all and end" all of his next move. He lay there working up the courage, strength and agility that he surely knew he would need in this all out effort to counteract the lightning response from his adversary. When the time came..and with his heart beating like a bass drum, he hurled his hat at the tigersnake.
All but a nano second later the snake struck out at the hat. Like a lightning bolt,'as he later told it'.. he sprung to his feet, jumped over the snake," which by now had its fangs deeply planted among the crumpled rim of his wide-awake"..and toppled... head over heels back down to the waters edge.He was ok, bruised and bleeding sure, but he lived to tell the tale..and.. pulled about 20ounces from that spot..eventually..gingerly.. with a big stick always close at hand..cheers ROSSCO reefer.
Once there and camped down on the Vale of Clyde, it took a while for that precious job to eventuate. So.. Pop being a miner and the nearby Cox's River being a gold bearing stream, Pop decided to fill in the meantime by prospecting a likely spot not far off the Raglan road.
It was the height of summer and the incessant hum of cicadas and clouds of bush flies were the order of the day. It was getting on in the afternoon and the unbearable heat of the day prompted the old bloke to seek a shady spot a little further up the stream.
First one pan and then two more confirmed it.. Gold! not a couple of specks as is the norm these days..but gold in abundence, gold! wonderful shining heavy and right through the whole wash in the pan. Gold! Untouched by human hands since it washed here eaons ago.
And here it was, his for the taking. Only, he was'nt equipped to mine all this lot, he would need his shovels, his pick, some sheet iron to make a grate for a banjo, blankets to line the sluice trench and sqared off timber for the riffles, tucker and and a bed roll, everything then some. It would mean he would have to pack up for the day ,get back to the family, organise the gear he would need... try to keep a lid on the find he had made, a thousand things and then some went roaring through his gold feverish mind.
To town, as soon as he could get there, to town and never mind the climb back out to the road to.. to town, to town! and never mind the blackberries , to town as fast as his powerful legs could carry him to town, scrambling up over log and branch, through the thickest of the blackberries was the shortest way out..to town and.... then the fall! ...backwards tumbling, tearing, bleeding and crumpled in a heap in the thickest of the berries.
He lay there for how long he knew not. It was getting darker, he knew that much and there was another thing he sensed, something piecing silent and ..deadly in the form of the gaze of a tiger snake. Three or four foot of it erect and agitated, slowly swaying from side to side.. its fork tounge, flicking and caressing the air around it, seemingly waiting for his slightest move to launch itself at his head.
For some strange reason that did'nt make sense his hat was still on his head. He had worn that hat all through his days at Tinga an old felt job in the "Wide- Awake" style. Now with this menace not two or three feet from his face it was his only chance of coming out of this unscathed. Slowly,almost imperceptably, he reached with his hand for it,inch by inch ever fearful of a telling blow from the tigersnake, until at last he had his hat clenched tightly in his hand.
Timing was going to be the "be all and end" all of his next move. He lay there working up the courage, strength and agility that he surely knew he would need in this all out effort to counteract the lightning response from his adversary. When the time came..and with his heart beating like a bass drum, he hurled his hat at the tigersnake.
All but a nano second later the snake struck out at the hat. Like a lightning bolt,'as he later told it'.. he sprung to his feet, jumped over the snake," which by now had its fangs deeply planted among the crumpled rim of his wide-awake"..and toppled... head over heels back down to the waters edge.He was ok, bruised and bleeding sure, but he lived to tell the tale..and.. pulled about 20ounces from that spot..eventually..gingerly.. with a big stick always close at hand..cheers ROSSCO reefer.
