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Adventures are not without peril By Amelia Upton


Dear Diary ,

December 11th 1850

Last night our digging party became lost in the darkness not being able to see anything. After walking some distance from our camp we became lost! Luckily we eventually spotted a light, and walked towards it. But it was a dangerous undertaking. Luckily my brother had managed to reach a long stick, with which he sounded the way, for either large stones or water-holes, were dangerous customers in the dark; We saw a flashing light from a torch held by some one, we shouted with all our remaining strength... Soon – with feelings that only those who have encountered similar dangers can understand – answering voices fell upon our ears… In the excitement of the moment we held one another hold of one another and attempted to wade through the mud singly. ‘Stop! Halt!’ shouted more than one stentorian voice; but the warning came too late. My feet slipped – a sharp pain succeeded by a sudden chill – a feeling of suffocation – of my head being ready to burst – and I remembered no more." I had fallen into one of the many holes that littered the gold fields, which, due to heavy rain, had filled with mud. I was totally immersed in mud. Luckily I only suffered a sprained and cut ankle.


Adventures are not without peril