We walked for hours that day, pushing further into the bush. We were climbing too, higher into the black-trunked beech forest, where the rocks were grey and dotted with colorful mosses and lichens.

All the way Dad poked here and there, looking for insects.

There's a cave!" he said, just when I was hoping we could stop for a rest. We went over to a dark patch in the rocks and looked in.

It wasn't a cave, it was a thin groove, which went into the rock like a "V" shape. Dad went first, with his specimen jar and tweezers ready. It was a long groove through the rock walls.

We walked for quite a long time, until we came to a wide hollow place, like a huge hole. It was as long as a cricket pitch. Above us were the green, bush-lipped edges. Ahead of us, near the middle of the clearing, was a large tree, with a thick trunk, and a building in its branches.

"Well I'll be!" said Dad, going up to the tree, "There's a tree house at the top! Looks like some kids have been here!"

We stood there for a while, too surprised to speak, then Dad started to climb the trunk. He got as far as the floor of the building and called out to me.

"Its so rotten, its a wonder it hasn't fallen down!"

"Be careful Dad!"

I heard him trying to push a way through the rotten floor. Bits of wood dropped around me.

"There's some words on this bit!" I shouted.

Dad came scrambling down and stood beside me.

"SHINER?" he said.

"Who's that?"

"I know that name," said Dad, "I've heard of him. Sam Shiner he was called. He was a miner. Always looking for the big one, but never found it, like most of the miners in those days. He traveled all over the place, trying every stream with his shovel and pan.

"He got married one day, but his wife wouldn't go with him, so he left her. They had a kid too, a girl I think, but I don't know what happened to her.