A rustle in the bushes ahead of them brought the party to a halt as a brown bird the size of a large chicken stepped onto the path with dignity. If it hadn’t been for the bird’s magnificent tail, mimicking the shape of a lyre to perfection, which he displayed in all its glory, nobody would pay such a nondescript bird any heed.

Adelaide clutched his arm. ‘A lyrebird. I’ve never seen one in full display before,’ she said. ‘He’s magnificent.’ She sighed as the bird lowered his plumage and scuttled into the bush. ‘Such a pity we have to destroy their habitats.’

Caleb laid a hand on Danny’s shoulder. ‘Now, my boy, you’ll find my gold pan in the mine’s adit. Perhaps you’ll have more luck than me.’

Choosing a sheltered spot against an ancient river rock, Adelaide unbuckled the bag and pulled out an old blanket that she laid on the ground. Leaving her to set out their lunch, Caleb and Danny took the gold pan and headed down to the creek. Caleb showed the boy how to sift the dirt, swirling the pan in such a way that the heavy gold sank to the bottom.

But every pan promised much and delivered nothing and soon Caleb sensed the boy was getting bored.

‘One more and we’ll go and eat,’ he suggested.

Danny scooped up the gravel and began rocking the pan. He gave a sharp cry. ‘Caleb, look.’

Caleb laughed. There, in the sand at the bottom of the pan, the unmistakable glimmer of gold, and not just worthless flakes, a couple of larger pieces, bigger than the sand grains. They were still probably worth no more than a couple of shillings, but Danny’s eyes shone.

‘Mama! Come and see! I found gold.’

Adelaide peered over their shoulders. ‘We can now retire and buy a house in Melbourne,’ she said.

‘Do you have something to put the gold in?’ Caleb asked.

Danny produced an old ink bottle and carefully extracted the grains of gold from the pan.

‘Are you ready to eat?’ Adelaide asked.

‘In a minute,’ Danny said. ‘I want to have another go.’

‘Have some lunch first,’ Adelaide insisted, but even food could not keep Danny from the lure of gold. He bolted down a piece of pie and hurried back to the creek, picking a quiet bend in the creek just out of earshot of the adults.

Caleb lay down on the blanket beside Adelaide, hands behind his head, looking up at the bright sky. The day was warm but not unpleasant and, away from the Maiden’s Creek stampers, the clear bell-like call of an unseen bird and the chirp of cicadas surrounded them.

‘I am beginning to love this country,’ he said.