My life on the gold fields Dear Diary,
The largest ones are called by the colonists, ‘bull dogs’, and formidable creatures they are - luckily not very common, about an inch and a half long, black, or rusty black, with a red tail. They bite like a crab. They don't - like the English ones - run scared away at the sight of a human being- not a bit of it; Australian ants have more pluck, and will turn and face you. No, more, should you retreat, they will run after you with all the impudence imaginable. Often when my organ of destructiveness has tempted me slightly to disturb with the end of my parasol one of the many ant-hills on the way from Melbourne to Richmond, I have been obliged, as soon as they discovered the perpetrator of the attack, to take to my heels and runaway as if for my life. The little beasts they are they will scurry in to the house in to my bed and under the carpet there are no windows or neither a proper house just a dark , dust, a torn old tent, which would not keep them away. They bite and sting like anything and there is no way to keep them out of the hut.
Their coming again After the day had gone by and my husband had came home from his day in the gold fields we had a little chat what thy were doing in the gold fields. I had to make sure that all that was in the house was clean and all neat but unfortunately the beasts (ants) were hard to keep out of the hut. When the night had came all was ready to go to sleep but the we had to stay in our clothes encase we had an emergency and we had to get up in the middle of the night
By Sabrina Orczech