New Gold Mountain

by Christopher Cheng

  Anyway, I was so excited at beating Jeremy that I forgot to teach him my game.

  ‘You must come here tomorrow,’ Jeremy said before we went back to our camps. I told him that it might be hard, and that I thought Uncle knew and was watching me. ‘Sometimes I feel like I am being watched, like the prey of an eagle. I can meet you another day, can’t I?’ I questioned.

  ‘Just make sure that you meet me here tomorrow. Get out when your Uncle and the Bosses are having their rest.’

  ‘They never rest,’ I told him. ‘They keep working like all Chinese do. They only rest when the sun goes down.’

  ‘Try hard, really hard,’ he said.

  I am puzzled. Jeremy has never been so insistent that I be there. I left the tree and rushed to Mr Fung’s to get the supplies. The only way to make sure that I could get back was not to collect all the supplies—that way, Uncle will have to send me back tomorrow. So, at Mr Fung’s I made sure that not everything was collected.

  Thursday, April 18

  Now I know why Jeremy insisted we meet today. Jeremy is leaving. He does not think that his family will ever return to the Flat. His father has not been very fortunate in his diggings and thinks that it would be better to try his luck ‘away from the celestial hordes who are invading the great land’. Jeremy does not protest any longer at his father’s words. I do not ask him to do so after the injuries he suffered last time. They will head towards Sydney. Jeremy says that his father will try mining in the goldfields along the way. He might even try Tipperary Gully, where many men are being fortunate, but Jeremy thinks that they will end up where they began, in Sydney, with a lot less than they started with. I cannot imagine returning to home with less than what I started with. One has to be very unfortunate, or the gods very offended, for that to happen. A person leaves home to return with more, not less.

  Jeremy said that he would like to learn more about China, and I would like him to help me learn more about this land, too, but that can no longer be.

  ‘One last match before I go. This one’s for the championship,’ Jeremy said. We played with the marbles. I am much better now than when I first shot the marbles, but Jeremy can still beat me with one carefully placed flick.

  ‘Time to go,’ he said. ‘Father will have packed up and will be itching to head out.’

  In China, on leaving a friend we clasp both hands and then kowtow. But Jeremy and I just stood there, looking at each other, not wanting or knowing how to say goodbye, awkward in our silence.

  I wanted to ask him if I will see him again, and where I could get in touch with him. I wanted to give him a red packet to thank him for our friendship and sharing, but I knew that if his father found the packet it would be destroyed and he would suffer because of my gift. I gave him one of Baba’s China coins that I carry to remind me of my beautiful China. In return, Jeremy gave me his pouch with some of the marbles.

  ‘Of course, I didn’t give you the whole lot, and definitely not Big Blue. I had to keep that one so that I can whip the tail of the next boy I run into and build up my numbers again. I’ll have a full pouch soon, don’t you worry about that,’ he said, when I told him that they were too precious to give away. ‘I could always play you for them. Winner takes all,’ he added with a wink of the eye, before he spun around and ran towards the mound.

  He turned and waved to me from the top. He saluted like the military do and then he kowtowed three times.

  I, too, kowtowed. I wept.

  These are now my marbles, and I will never part with them. I will treasure this pouch and the marbles forever. No matter what happens, it will remind me that not all of the Big-Noses are hating people. It will go in my satchel with my other treasures.

  And I never taught Jeremy my game.

  Friday, April 19

  I feel bad that I no longer can see my friend Jeremy, and I feel bad that I have deceived Uncle so often with our secret meetings. I cannot hide the shame of the secret anymore. It is not right to keep secrets from Uncle, who has looked after me as if I was his own son. I do not know what to do.

  Saturday, April 20

  I could survive with the shame no longer. I told Uncle today that I had been meeting Jeremy when he sent me out on messages. I was waiting for Uncle to severely reprimand me, but nothing came. He just sat on his stool with his head hung low. When he raised his head I knew that there would be no yelling and no discipline like Jeremy received, but I did not know what would happen. Then Uncle surprised me—he knew what I was doing all along! He had been keeping his watchful eyes on me at all times, and when he couldn’t watch me, he sent one of the men to make sure that nothing happened to me. Boss Chin Yee did see me. Uncle even knows about the stones at the tree. He agrees that I was wrong to deceive him, but he also tells me that I was right to get to know Jeremy.

  ‘You must respect your elders, Shu Cheong,’ he said. ‘You should have told me. Then we could have worked out an easier way for your meetings, but then maybe his father not let him. Remember that your elders, we know what is right for you. Now, the marbles game that you play with your friend. Where are your marbles? Now, I show you how to play.’ And Uncle scratched a circle in the dirt and we played. Uncle won. He is very, very good.

  Monday, April 22

  Uncle has some help with the medicines, at least for a while. This is a good thing, for Uncle’s work has been tiring him. Kwong Sue Duck has arrived and he knows much about treatments for fever and arthritis and muscle strains. He brought with him many herbs and treatments, more than Uncle can gather from Mr Fung’s gardens, and he finds others in the bush.

  Kwong Sue Duck has travelled through many goldfields, so as soon as they saw him arrive some of the men rushed up to him and told him their pains. He started treatment immediately. He didn’t even have time to erect his tent. Some miners waited for half the morning to be treated and the Bosses didn’t seem to mind. Maybe this is because a treated miner will do better mining. Maybe I should ask him about other goldfields and travelling to Sydney. Maybe he will be able to tell me.

  Tuesday, April 23

  It is crazy. The Big-Noses are at last letting us get on with our mining, but now the Chinese miner is battling the Chinese miner. Boss Chin Yee’s team were using a windlass at their mine, when a new miner to this field came over and started arguing with the men for the machine. Had he requested use of the machine, it might have been permitted, but he demanded to use it at his mine immediately. Punches were thrown and more of the stranger’s team arrived. Even Boss Chin Yee could not settle the dispute.

  It must have been a bad fight because the military men had to come and stop them fighting each other. They were laughing at having to stop Chinese fighting Chinese.

  Wednesday, April 24

  The troopers came back to our Gully today and demanded to see each miner’s licence. Boss Chin Yee thinks that it was the fighting Chinese that made them come to the Gully, just so we know who is controlling the field.

  They tried to arrest one miner because he did not have a licence, but Boss Chin Yee showed the licences for all his team. The soldiers say that all miners must carry their own licence. And then they tried to arrest me when they came to our tents in the Gully. I was running messages for Uncle and Boss Chin Yee. A very tall trooper blocked my path so that I couldn’t walk ahead. He was about to grab me, but Uncle appeared. He told them that I am not a miner but that I am a boy, too young to mine. They looked at my hands and my sandals for evidence of mining, but there was none. They had to let me go, for they could not prove I was mining. I was very scared at the thought of being taken by the troopers.

  Why do we Chinese need a licence? A licence is no use for us. It does not protect the Chinese miner like it protects the European miner. We can’t mine wherever there is gold. We are stuck here in the Gully.

  Thursday, April 25

  The same troopers came back again to check the miner’s licences. They insisted again on seeing that each miner was carrying the paper, and they made spe
cial checkings of Boss Chin Yee and his men. Every man was carrying his licence.

  Mr McCulloch Henley was mad. Later, he told me that mad is the wrong word to use. He said that he was infuriated. He said that the troopers had no right coming back and checking the same Chinese men again and even questioning me. He is very good, Mr McCulloch Henley. He is helping us Chinese as best he can. He comes to the Gully many days to write letters and petitions with Uncle. He is advising us on the ‘colonial’ way of doing things. He even told some of the men where it is best to trade their gold for money—not with the traders in town, he says. And he is a Big-Nose. Yes, Uncle is right. There are some good Big-Noses; Jeremy and Mr McCulloch Henley are two of them.

  Friday, April 26

  There was so much noise this morning that I thought that we were being attacked again, but this time with guns. When I heard the gunfire I rushed to the tent, grabbed my satchel and looked around for Uncle. I thought that this time the military men as well as the miners might be trying to kill us, but the explosive sounds were only the military men practising with their guns.

  I wonder if they would fire their guns to protect us Chinese. They are white soldiers and they are white miners. I don’t know if they would fire against their own kind.

  Tuesday, April 30

  I met a new Big-Nose today called Mr Woolman. He speaks very differently to the other Big-Noses that I have met here in the Flat. He still speaks English (not like the German miners) but he told me that his is ‘English with an American accent’. He says that some of the Chinese he meets speak a special kind of English too—he calls it ‘Chinglish’.

  Uncle couldn’t write a letter for him for at least four hours so he suggested that I write his letter. Mr Woolman did not seem upset that a boy would be writing his letters. He was very patient with me; he wanted a long letter and he even spelt out some difficult words. He comes from the place they call America, and there are many Chinese over there too. When he told me that information I could barely concentrate on the writing. I was thinking and thinking of Chinese being in America and what they would be doing, when Mr Woolman said, ‘Whoa! You’ve stopped writing. Have I given you too much? Can’t you write no more?’

  I immediately apologised, and with a deep belly laugh that made his bushy beard wobble (as well as his rather large stomach), he said, ‘That’s no worries, for sure. Take your time. I got plenty of time.’

  He continued dictating his letter, and when he finished he said, ‘You done well, boy. I’ll be back. I got more letters that need writing.’ And he left.

  I have questions for this Mr Woolman: Why is he here? Why are there Chinese in the Americas? What do they do? I requested from Uncle that I be allowed to write more for Mr Woolman when he comes, and Uncle agreed—if that is what Mr Woolman requests.

  I hope I pleased Mr Woolman too.

  Friday, May 3

  Sai Chin is not very pleased today. He went into town to trade some of his gold for supplies and money. The storekeeper (who Uncle never visits, and who the Bosses say we should never trade with) tried to cheat him. When he weighed the gold, he told Sai Chin that he only had three ounces of gold, but Sai Chin knew that he had more. He had already weighed his gold on Uncle’s scales.

  When Sai Chin accused the storekeeper of trying to rob him by not weighing the gold correctly, an argument erupted. He went wild with rage, like a tiger caught in a trap. He caused much damage to the store, breaking containers with foodstuffs and mining implements. The troopers arrested him and now he has to now pay for the damage—with his gold. He says it is unfair that the storekeepers have the final say. Uncle and the Bosses agree, but he did damage the storekeeper’s goods so there is nothing they can do. Uncle said that he was lucky he was not taken before the magistrate—he might have gone to jail. He should have talked to the Bosses (who could change his gold for him) or even visited a bank or Mr Greig’s store. Mr Greig is always assisting the Chinese miner. Sai Chin really was foolish.

  Boss Chin Yee was telling me that on some goldfields traders have cheated many miners, both Chinese and Big-Nose, by weighing the gold dust on unbalanced scales, or by having a sticky pan so that a little of the dust sticks after it is weighed, or even by having wet hands that will make some of the dust stick to the storekeeper’s fingers. That is one reason why he and other Bosses have scales that the miners can use to check their gold weight. Uncle was surprised that Sai Chin wanted to convert his gold. He has been keeping most of his gold to take back to China. Some days he would even go without food (or eat from another man’s table) so that he didn’t have to spend his gold. Gold is what is valuable in China, not the paper notes from here.

  Saturday, May 4

  Mr Woolman came back today, but not to see me. He did not want a letter written this time; he is receiving a back treatment from Uncle. He told Uncle that he had used many herbal treatments on the goldfields in California, so he knows how good the Chinese medicine is. He was not worried at all. I have never heard of the goldfields in California. I wanted to ask some questions, but I had to make preparations for the evening meal. I wonder if Mr Woolman would stay to eat with us some day. He trusts Uncle’s treatments, so maybe he would trust Chinese cooking too.

  Tuesday, May 7

  He came again, Mr Woolman, close to dinnertime, and he saw both Uncle and me. I wrote a letter for him to his family in Sydney, but I was concentrating so hard on forming the letters that I don’t remember much of what I wrote. Mr Woolman can write too, for he showed me how to write the words that I do not know, but he doesn’t want to do the writing. He says that he likes it here with Uncle and me (in the ‘Chinese quarters’, he says) and that he is very happy to have me write his letters. That is very pleasing. And from Uncle he received another herbal treatment, but he didn’t stay to eat with us. Maybe next time.

  Wednesday, May 8

  Today I went wandering out of our camp, but I did not go too far away. I did request permission from Uncle; I dare not show disrespect again. That is not right.

  I walked to the tree where Jeremy and I met. There are no stones and so I am sure that he has gone. That is most sad. He was very pleasant to me. I miss our meetings—and especially because Uncle knows that we were meeting and so I could have met him more. I was very silly. It seems very peaceful around our Gully and the areas nearby, but I did notice that there are a few abandoned Big-Nose mines. They must have given up and gone somewhere else. I kicked a few piles of dirt but saw no glinting flecks.

  Friday, May 10

  I had nearly forgotten it myself—today is my birthday! Uncle says that this is a very good year for my birthday. It would be better if Baba were here, but it was still a very exciting and fortuitous day. For a start, I didn’t have to help Mr Fung with the water-collecting. Uncle did send me on errands to many of the Bosses at their mines, but never in my wildest dreams did I expect that upon arriving at the mines I would be given red packets and small wrapped containers with gifts! They were all very generous to me—some were very, very generous, for this year my birthday presents were gold!

  After one day, I have more gold than some miners who have been here many moons. Boss Chin Yee even gave me a piece of gold as wide as his nostril. Mr McCulloch Henley, he came for my birthday celebration tonight, and he, too, gave me gold—a small piece it was, but it was real gold. I know that I would not get these gifts if there were more Chinese boys on the goldfields. It is very prosperous being the only Chinese boy here! I made sure that this afternoon I went to the temple to give thanks and to worship the ancestors. I did have to do some letter-writing, and even Mr Woolman knew that it was my birthday. He presented me with a special writing tool, a pen for me to use when I am proficient in writing. Made of fine red wood, it fits perfectly in my hand. I told him that red was the very best colour for a Chinese present (he was even more pleased, but I am sure that he knew that). He said that it was given to him before he left his land by his family, but he felt that because I am the one doing the writing
and not him, I should have the very best of writing tools. Uncle might be jealous that he does not have such a fine implement, but I will lend it to him if he requests.

  Today I did not even have to assist with the preparation of the meal. The Bosses and Uncle would not let me, and instead they all attended to me! Now I know how our village head or even the emperor feels. I sat at the table with them, and the Bosses served me the finest foods they could prepare, and all in honour of my birthday. They must have purchased these foods from the traders in town when they were there earlier in the week. That is the only way we could have had such fine foods here—salted fish, dried vegetables and ginger that came from a real ginger jar! Ah, this is a glorious day.

  My only wish would be to have Baba with me.

  I have placed all the gold in a pouch that Uncle gave me (he must have known what was happening), and I have neatly gathered all my empty red packets and they are now in my satchel too. The Bosses and Uncle are talking outside, and so now I will write a letter to Uncle, thanking him for taking on the responsibility of watching over me. This is respectful and is what Baba would have me do, and I know that Baba’s spirit is watching over me. Do jeh Baba, do jeh Uncle.