Trad.
The wind is fair and free, my boys, the wind is fair and free
The steamer's course is north, my boys, and the Palmer we will see
The Palmer we will see, my boys, and Cooktown's muddy shore
Where I've been told there's lots of gold, so stay down south no more
Chorus
So, blow ye winds, heigho
A-digging we will go
I'll stay no more down south, my boys
So let the music play
In spite of what I'm told
I'm off in search of gold
I'll make a push for that new rush
A thousand miles away
They say the blacks are troublesome, and spear both horse and man
The rivers are all wide and deep, no bridges them do span
No bridges them do span, my boys, and so you'll have to swim
But never fear the yarns you hear, and gold you're sure to win
So let us make a move, my boys, for that new promised land
And do the best we can, my boys, to lend a helping hand
To lend a helping hand, my boys, where the soil is rich and new
In spite of the blacks and unknown tracks, we'll show what we can do
The Palmer River gold rush took place in 1872. While treated lightly in this song, historians of the time refer to a state of "open warfare" between the indigenous inhabitants of the area and the newly-arrived gold-miners.
To the tune of Ten Thousand Miles Away.
From someone more than "a thousand miles away", I want to say how much I am enjoying your songs. They are all brand new to me. - John in Virginia
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