TRAVELS IN WESTERN AUSTRALIA




TRAVELS IN WESTERN AUSTRALIA


Some Press Opinions of the First Edition

_The Daily Chronicle_: “This book is a pleasant and interesting one; it
tells what somebody really saw and felt, not what somebody thought the
proper thing to say. The average man will find May Vivienne a delightful
and exhilarating guide to the still only half-understood pleasures and
resources of Western Australia.”

_The Empire Review_: “It contains much first-hand information, clearly
given, concerning the cities, goldfields, and agricultural districts
of Western Australia. It is well illustrated, and will be found a most
useful work of reference.”

_The Financial Times_: “Among the several books published dealing
with Western Australia, we know of few, if any, which are at once so
entertaining and so instructive as this volume. Any one who desires
to obtain in a most pleasant way a good general knowledge of this
distant colony could scarcely do better than purchase this book. As a
mere record of travel, apart from its special interest as dealing with
a gold-producing colony, it is well worth reading, and it contains a
profusion of interesting illustrations.”

_The Pall Mall Gazette_: “Miss Vivienne knows her Westralia up and down;
she takes us to farms and timber estates; she has visited the goldfields
more than once, inspected all the chief mines, pegged a claim with her
own hand, and pluckily traversed the pioneer fringe of civilisation.
Her delightful journeys, which (with admirable illustrations) take us
over the whole country, reveal its astounding promise, which has already
largely become performance.”




[Illustration: _John Forrest_]




                                TRAVELS IN
                            WESTERN AUSTRALIA

                    BEING A DESCRIPTION OF THE VARIOUS
                    CITIES AND TOWNS, GOLDFIELDS, AND
                          AGRICULTURAL DISTRICTS
                              OF THAT STATE

                                    BY
                               MAY VIVIENNE

                       WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS

                              [Illustration]

                                  LONDON
                            WILLIAM HEINEMANN
                                   1902

                        _First Edition, May 1901_
                      _Second Edition, January 1902_

                          _All rights reserved_




                   “_He Masters whose Spirit Masters_”

                               DEDICATED TO
                     THE RIGHT HON. SIR JOHN FORREST
                         P.C., K.C.M.G., G.C.M.G.
                     EX-PREMIER OF WESTERN AUSTRALIA
                                   AND
                       MINISTER FOR FEDERAL DEFENCE
                           IN THE COMMONWEALTH
                                    OF
                             UNITED AUSTRALIA

      “_Steer thou with good strong hand and wary eye, oh Helmsman_”




_AUTHOR’S NOTE_


_Some readers may be disposed to question the accuracy of my statements
regarding the mines, and the actual wealth in gold of the State. I can
assure them that these statements are absolutely devoid of exaggeration,
and capable of being easily verified._

_This is true also of what is said respecting timber, fruits, and
agricultural produce._

_Finally, my hope in issuing this volume is that it may induce people not
only to visit but to settle in Western Australia, and so share in the
benefits offered by its prolific tracts._

                                                                   _M. V._




CONTENTS


                                CHAPTER I

    Albany—Sweet Boronia—Middleton Beach—Little
    Grove—Regatta—Buildings—Whaling—Old Colonists—Travelling
    Dairy—Splendid Vegetables—Wattle Farm—Porongurup—Land
    Regulations—King George’s Sound                               Pp. 1-14

                               CHAPTER II

    Torbay—Denmark Timber Mills—Mount
    Barker—Katanning—Wagin—Narrogin—Beverly—York—Lovely
    Wildflowers                                                  Pp. 15-28

                               CHAPTER III

    Perth—Public Buildings—Yacht Clubs—Government House—Recreation
    Ground—Lovely Perth Park—“Bond or Free”                      Pp. 29-40

                               CHAPTER IV

    Darling Quarries—Kalayamba Vineyard—Mr. Brookman—Lady
    Forrest—Cambria—Mayor of Perth—Mr. Hackett—Canning Park
    Races                                                        Pp. 41-46

                                CHAPTER V

    The Museum—Flower Show—Musical—Native Risings—Zoo—South
    Perth—The Old Mill—Moonlight                                 Pp. 49-69

                               CHAPTER VI

    Drive to Claremont—Osborne—Keane’s Point—The
    Chine—Cottesloe—The Ocean—North Fremantle—Arthur’s
    Head—Smelting Works—Our Contingent—Fremantle                 Pp. 70-83

                               CHAPTER VII

    Rottnest—Steam to Rottnest—The Lovely River—Crawley Point—The
    Island—Boys’ Orphanage—Fremantle Harbour                     Pp. 84-89

                              CHAPTER VIII

    Guildford—Henley Park—Hunting—Mundaring Weir—Sir John
    Forrest—Darling Nurseries—Kelmscott—Armadale—Jarrahdale—Whitby
    Falls—Mandurah—Yarloop Mills—Harvey—Collie Coalfields       Pp. 90-105

                               CHAPTER IX

    Bunbury—Exploring Days—The Estuary—Early Times—Whaling—Native
    Murder—Mr. Layman—Retribution—Pasture Land—Robert Scott—Old
    Residents                                                  Pp. 106-117

                                CHAPTER X

    Dardanup Park—Donnybrook—Bridgetown—The Grange—Dallgarrup—A
    Prodigious Prize—Greenbushes—Tinfield—The Great Forest     Pp. 118-123

                               CHAPTER XI

    Busselton—Napoleon’s Grave—Cattle Chosen—“All
    aboard”—Karridale—Touring the Forest—King Karri—The Sand
    Patch                                                      Pp. 124-136

                               CHAPTER XII

    Deepdene Caves—Margaret Caves—A Welcome Lunch—Cape Leeuwin Pp. 137-147

                              CHAPTER XIII

    Pretty Newcastle—Oranges!—New Norcia—Native Love—The
    Mission—Northam—The Grand Old Man—Ploughing Match—Oat Crop—The
    Show                                                       Pp. 148-158

                               CHAPTER XIV

    Southern Cross—Early Discoveries of Gold—Heavy Tramps—Walking
    on Gold—Bayley’s Reward—Fabulous Finds—The Potato
    Ground—Bayley’s Death—The 90-Mile—The Treasure House—Great
    Boulder Find—The Londonderry                               Pp. 159-175

                               CHAPTER XV

    Coolgardie—The Camels are Coming—The Landlord’s Record—Meeting
    a Friend—A Goldfields Camp—“Nap”—The Reward Mine—Bonnie
    Vale—Londonderry—Nearly Lost—King Solomon’s Mine—Hampton
    Plains                                                     Pp. 176-195

                               CHAPTER XVI

    The Golden Butterfly—Norseman—Gold Exhibits—Coolgardie—Alluvial
    Treasures                                                  Pp. 196-203

                              CHAPTER XVII

    Kalgoorlie City—The Six Great Mines in the Golden Mile—Mr.
    Kaufman—Early Predictions Verified—Associated—Lake View Consols
    and Great Boulder                                          Pp. 204-223

                              CHAPTER XVIII

    The Ivanhoe—The Famous Stope—Climbing the Ladders—Boulder
    Perseverance—The Rock Drill—Down 500 Feet in a Bucket—Blasting
    the Rock—British Westralia Syndicate—Mr. Frank Gardner and our
    own Zeb. Lane—Kalgoorlie Again—Wages on the Mines—Yield of the
    Goldfields                                                 Pp. 224-236

                               CHAPTER XIX

    Kanowna—The Great Alluvial Rush—Big Nuggets—“The Joker”—Father
    Long’s Golden Sickle—Nobility Represented—Bulong           Pp. 237-245

                               CHAPTER XX

    Broad Arrow—Menzies—Rich Mines—Lady Shenton—Luncheon in the
    Caverns of the Earth—Hon. H. J. Saunders—Welcome Tea and
    Cake—Native Murder—A Lost Prospector—Cake of Gold—Box-seat
    of the Coach—Mount Malcolm—Gold Escort—Windmills and Fresh
    Water                                                      Pp. 246-256

                               CHAPTER XXI

    A New Field—Mertondale—Stupendous Richness—Gold, Gold
    Everywhere—A Lucky Prospector—Garden in the Bush—Murrin!
    Murrin!—A Welcome Surprise—Western Australian Mount
    Morgans—Golden Hills—Blackfellows on the Trail—The Lagoon  Pp. 257-268

                              CHAPTER XXII

    Laverton—Excitement among the Miners—Bachelors and Grass
    Widowers—More Souvenirs—Lucky Discoveries—Erlistoun—Lost—Eagle
    Nugget—Euro Mine—Hospitality in the Bush                   Pp. 269-279

                              CHAPTER XXIII

    Leonora—The Gwalia Mines—In a Gingerbeer Cart—More Nuggets—Gold
    Blocks—Pastoral Land—Swampers—Scarcity of the Fair Sex—Saturday
    Life—Alas, poor Prospectors!                               Pp. 280-291

                              CHAPTER XXIV

    Lawlers—Splendid Vegetables—Waiting for a Samaritan—Mount Sir
    Samuel—While the Billy boils—The Kangaroo—Lake Way—Across the
    Country—The “Back-blocks”—Camping Out—Arrival at Nannine—Bed
    Once More—Splendid Mines of the Murchison—Peak Hill—The Gold
    Patch—An Old Friend—A Hearty Welcome                       Pp. 292-312

                               CHAPTER XXV

    Tuckanarra—The Lights of Cue—Surprising Vegetation—Sweet
    Flowers Again—High Wages—Splendid Meat—The Island—The
    Mirage—Jolly Faces—Mount Magnet—Donkeys—A Tasteful Camp—The
    Morning Star—Windsor Castle                                Pp. 313-324

                              CHAPTER XXVI

    Yalgoo—A Cold Welcome—Native Shepherds—Geraldton—Pearls—The
    Abrolhos—Dutch Navigators—Aborigines—Finis                 Pp. 325-344





ILLUSTRATIONS


                                                                     _Page_

    _The Right Hon. Sir John Forrest_                        _Frontispiece_

    _Bird’s-eye View of Albany_                                          1

    _The_ “Omrah” _at Albany_                                            1

    _A Part of Kendinup Station_                                         5

    _Civilised Aborigines at Kendinup Station_                          11

    _The Residency, Albany_                                             13

    _The Homestead, Kendinup Station_                                   17

    _Hauling Logs at the Mills_                                         19

    _Ready for Cross-cutting, Denmark Mills_                            23

    _York_                                                              25

    _Moirs’ Buildings_                                                  29

    _Swan River, Perth_                                                 29

    _Hay Street, Perth_                                                 31

    _Perth Railway Station_                                             33

    _Melville Water_                                                    35

    _Perth Water_                                                       37

    _Mount Eliza and Swan River_                                        43

    _St. George’s Terrace_                                              47

    _City of Perth_                                                     53

    _Aboriginal Camp_                                                   55

    _Driving in Perth Park, at the Summit_                              59

    _Gathering Wildflowers_                                             63

    _South Perth from the Banks of the Swan_                            67

    _Fremantle Pier_                                                    70

    _Freshwater Bay, Claremont_                                         73

    _North Fremantle_                                                   77

    _High Street, Fremantle_                                            81

    _Government House, Perth_                                           87

    _Hon. H. J. Saunders_                                               91

    _Government Bore, near Mundaring_                                   93

    _Lunatic Asylum, Western Australia_                                 99

    _Paper Bark Tree_                                                  106

    _Lady Forrest_                                                     109

    _Bunbury_                                                          115

    _Blackwood River_                                                  118

    _Davies’ Karridale Timber Station_                                 129

    _Felling the Giant Karri_                                          132

    _The Sand Patch_                                                   133

    _Cave_                                                             139

    _Lighthouse_                                                       145

    _Newcastle_                                                        149

    _Avon River_                                                       157

    _Camel Water Train going to Coolgardie_                            159

    _Teams Returned to Southern Cross from Coolgardie_                 163

    _Bakery and Miners’ Camp, Southern Cross_                          166

    _Bayley’s Reward Mine—Underlay Shaft_                              169

    _Bayley Street, Coolgardie, 1897_                                  176

    _Early Days, Coolgardie_                                           177

    _Water Condenser—Filling the Water-bag_                            183

    _Burbanks Grand Junction Mine_                                     187

    _Vale of Coolgardie Mine_                                          188

    _Jubilee at Red Hill Mine_                                         191

    _Golden Butterfly Nugget_                                          196

    _The Main Shaft. Butterfly Leases_                                 197

    _The Miners’ Holiday_                                              201

    _Hannan Street, Kalgoorlie, 1898_                                  204

    _Palace Hotel, Kalgoorlie_                                         207

    _Hannan Street, Kalgoorlie, Early Days_                            208

    _Great Boulder Mine and Offices from Lake View Consols_            213

    _Overlooking the Great Boulder_                                    215

    _Hannan’s Star Mine_                                               217

    _The Ivanhoe Mine_                                                 219

    _Mr. Zebina Lane_                                                  221

    _Roll-up at the Boulder Perseverance Mine_                         226

    _Lane’s Shaft, Boulder Perseverance Mine_                          227

    _Mr. Frank L. Gardner_                                             231

    _Hannan’s Public Crushing Company_                                 233

    _Central Boulder Mines and Manager’s House_                        234

    _Saturday Afternoon at Kanowna_                                    237

    _Deep Lead, Kanowna_                                               240

    _Alluvial Diggings, Kanowna_                                       243

    _Hill End Mine—Broad Arrow_                                        246

    _Part of Lady Shenton Battery_                                     248

    _Messrs. A. Forrest and J. Dunn on a Prospecting Tour_             251

    _Merton’s Find, Mertondale_                                        257

    _Mr. Alick Forrest Inspecting Dunn’s Shaft near Mount Morgans_     261

    _Westralian Mount Morgans Mine_                                    265

    _Mine at Laverton_                                                 269

    _Miners’ Camp, Laverton_                                           273

    _Sons of Gwalia Mine, Mount Leonora_                               280

    _Camels at Diorite King_                                           285

    _Auction Sale, Goldfields (Tin Hotel)_                             287

    _Off by Coach to Lawlers_                                          292

    _Lake Way Gold Mine_                                               293

    _Kangaroo_                                                         297

    _A Well near Lake Way_                                             300

    _Lubra and Pickaninny_                                             301

    _Dry-blowing in the Golden West_                                   307

    _Mine at Cue_                                                      313

    _Inclined Shaft, Cue One Mine_                                     315

    _Colonel North’s Expedition to Mount Magnet_                       319

    _Donkey Team, Mount Magnet_                                        323

    _Marine Terrace, Geraldton_                                        327

    _Four Generations of the Western Australian Native_                334

    _Aborigines with Spears_                                           338

    _Distant View of Fremantle_                                        341




[Illustration: Bird’s-Eye View of Albany]




CHAPTER I

    Albany—Sweet Boronia—Middleton Beach—Little
    Grove—Regatta—Buildings—Whaling—Old Colonists—Travelling
    Dairy—Splendid Vegetables—Wattle Farm—Porongurup—Land
    Regulations—King George’s Sound.


[Illustration: The _Omrah_ at Albany]

Having travelled all over Tasmania, Queensland, New South Wales,
Victoria, and South Australia (now United Australia), I one day made up
my mind to set out for the land of gold, Western Australia, that has
created such a _furore_ in these last few years. Accordingly I took
my passage from Sydney in the mail-steamer _Omrah_ and, after a very
charming voyage on board that splendid vessel, landed at Albany. It was a
lovely day, and the first things that pleasantly greeted the passengers
on stepping from the tug-boat to the wharf were various small boys with
huge bunches of the exquisite-smelling boronia, of which I had often
heard. Pretty little Albany looked charming. The day was really perfect
in its loveliness; the country round looked like an exquisite emerald
robe fringed with pearl and sapphire, the grand blue mountains in the
distance, the opal sea, with its white-winged yachts and various sailing
vessels lying at anchor in beautiful Princess Royal Harbour; the blue
sky above, with here and there a tiny white cloud like a dove carrying
a message to heaven; the matchless wild flowers springing around in
profusion, and the scent of the sweet boronia wafting on the breeze from
the gullies, where it grows in such luxuriance that one wonders no scent
farm has been started to distil the exquisite perfume, made the drive
taken by most of us before lunch most delightful. The peacefulness of
this charming place was broken only by the arrival of the great steamers,
with their crowds of passengers, who always went ashore for an hour or
so, some of them to take the train _en route_ to Perth, Fremantle, or the
goldfields; the others, after driving, lunching, or dining, as time will
allow, at the Freemasons’ Hotel (where I put up for a week), returning to
the steamer to continue their passage “home,” as all we Australians call
dear mother England.

After an excellent lunch at the above-named hotel we set out to view the
surroundings of Albany.

On that day everything really looked so beautiful that one might
believe Nature to have put on her most attractive garb for us, as if to
say, “Why go from here?” Driving round the Marine Drive to Middleton
Beach, we thought nothing could be lovelier than the view to which no
attraction seemed wanting. The calm and stillness were broken only by a
few other tourists, also feasting their eyes on this scene of beauty.
It is a five-mile drive to Middleton Beach. The beach forms a circle
of some three miles. Mount Clarence is in the background; in front is
the land-locked Princess Royal Harbour, with its narrow gateway for the
passage of ships; tiny bays surround it, and the picturesque islands
look like so many lions guarding the portal. This is a favourite place
for picnics; family parties are often here in numbers; the water is
so limpid and shallow that children can dabble about to their hearts’
content; the sand is beautifully white and firm, and many little spades
and buckets are employed in making sandhouses. Afternoon tea-parties are
also quite an institution; it is considered quite “the thing” to bring a
party of friends to tea, and, if you do not wish to have it _al fresco_,
there is the pretty Esplanade Hotel, where everything, from afternoon
teas to wedding breakfasts, is served up in most excellent fashion.

Another beauteous spot near Albany is Little Grove. The day I went the
steamer was full, it being a holiday. Launches were plying from jetty
to jetty, taking parties of picnickers to the pretty shady groves. A
regatta was also being held, and many people were watching it. It was
a pretty sight to see the contest of the boats as they sailed merrily
round the lovely bay. The weather was exquisite, but a strong breeze
was blowing; good seamanship was called into play in the sailing of the
yachts and robust muscular exertion in the rowing events. Albany may well
be called the sanatorium of the colony. The air is so invigorating that,
after being there only a few days, one feels almost a new being. Any one
suffering from brain fag or exhaustion cannot do better than go to Albany
for a holiday. One need only look at the faces of the children, see their
healthy looks, bright eyes and general activity, to know that they have
been born and brought up amongst healthy surroundings. One feature of the
children is their beautiful hair; many possess such luxuriant tresses
that one feels inclined to envy the lovely colour and beauty of them, and
to wish one also had been born in Albany.

The town possesses some very good buildings, and, although not of very
large extent, is well laid out. It lies between the Mounts Clarence and
Melville, and the many dwellings on the hillsides give it a most quaint
and charming appearance. The principal places are the Town Hall, Post
Office, Customs House Office, and large sheds, also some fine stores.
There are still some very old structures standing, for Albany is an old
town, Princess Royal Harbour having been called after the daughter of
King George of England. The old-fashioned church of St. John has been
beautified by the hand of time and adorned with a mantle of ivy green.
Many stone cottages show the primitive way of building that prevailed in
1836. The gaol, built about that year, and in much the same style, still
exists, but the stocks then in use have almost disappeared. A very old
woman to whom I was speaking told me she remembered three women at a time
being put into them. Other evidences of days gone by are immense heaps of
bleached whalebones lying about in some parts. Albany was once a fishing
village frequented by traders of all countries, who did a large trade in
whale-oil, seals, &c., and exchanged for these things not only coin but
also potatoes and fruit. There were evidently stirring times in Albany in
those early days, and it was not an uncommon thing to see nine whales at
a time disporting themselves in the harbour. The huge mail-steamers must
have frightened them all away, for a whale is now a rare visitor. I spent
a pleasant hour at the house of Mr. J. McKenzie, which in the ’fifties
was the only hotel in Albany, and was known as The Thistle. It was also
the general concert-hall and theatre. There were no theatrical companies
in Western Australia in those days, and the small community used to get
up its own entertainments without aid from outside. Among the relics
cherished by Mr. McKenzie is the speaking-trumpet used by his father, a
master mariner, an imposing-looking instrument of brass, something like a
cornet. A magnificent double-pearl shell, with five or six lovely pearls
embedded in its sides, must be of great value.

One of the most prominent early colonists was Captain John Hassell,
who, after calling two or three times in his brig the _Belinda_, being
wrecked, and undergoing many hardships, was still so much attracted by
the splendid locality that he resolved to settle here, took another
trip to Sydney, N.S.W., and returned with his family in 1838, bringing
with him 700 sheep, 12 horses, 20 head of cattle, poultry, 15 men, also
rations for twelve months. Captain Hassell went first to Strawberry
Hill and afterwards to Kendinup Station, where a fine mansion stands,
which now belongs to his son, John Hassell. It comprises 41,144 acres of
freehold and 122,000 acres of leasehold property; the area is 225 square
miles, and there are 320 miles of fencing on it. 6000 sheep are on the
run, and one magnificent flock of imported sheep cost Mr. Hassell £4000.
The samples of wool I saw from this station are really splendid. There
is a plentiful supply of water, one well being 80 feet deep, and nearly
always full. There are 30 civilised natives on the station, photographs
of five of whom are here given.

[Illustration: A PART OF KENDINUP STATION]

Albany has been connected with the capital by rail since 1886; previous
to that time the overland journey of more than 300 miles was made by
mail-coach or private conveyance over a very lonely road. The first
railway here was negotiated by the late Mr. Anthony Hordern, of Sydney,
N.S.W., and constructed under the land-grant system by a company of
which he was director-chairman. Mr. Hordern took up large grants of land
near Albany, having a high opinion of its agricultural possibilities.
He had also large schemes for the future of the south-west part of the
colony, and intended to build agricultural colleges to teach people how
to use the splendid soil to advantage. Unfortunately Mr. Hordern did not
live to complete the schemes; he died at sea, and a splendid monument
to his memory tops the incline of the principal street in Albany. The
late Premier, Sir John Forrest, said he remembered taking a journey from
Albany to Perth in 1880, when the coach broke down at a distance of some
40 or 50 miles from the town, and it was necessary to get a team and
travel by it another 40 or 50 miles; also many other difficulties were
encountered before arriving at Perth, and the journey took a week. My
own experiences when I visited this colony in 1882 were worse than the
Premier’s. I landed in Albany with a party of four others; we hired two
conveyances and four horses, paying £50 for them, provisioned for ten
days, and set off through the sand and bush. As it took us sixteen days
to perform the journey, as very little food could be obtained anywhere,
and as we arrived at our journey’s end with only two horses, the other
two having died on the way, the pleasures of that expedition can better
be imagined than described.

The garden lands which lie in the valleys close to the town are being
largely cultivated, and selectors from England and elsewhere are
frequently arriving with the intention of taking up selections, and
undertaking dairy farming and market gardening. The new travelling dairy
instituted by the Government will be a great boon; it will have all the
latest appliances, and the plant will be erected in places where the
people have not facilities for making butter, &c., and persons who do not
understand the process can be instructed. The yield from this district
is one ton of hay, or fifteen bushels of wheat, per acre. This quantity
has been exceeded at Toobrunup Lake, where the yield was twenty bushels
per acre. Further proof of the fertility of the soil is given by the fact
that cabbages grown at Mr. Horton’s selection weighed from 20 to 30 lb.,
and grew to maturity in thirteen weeks. Forty-two tons of cabbage came
off three acres of land last year, and brought £10 per ton. Potatoes from
the farm at Strawberry Hill, cultivated 60 years ago by Sir R. Spencer,
weigh over a pound each, so that at dinner you are not asked to take
potatoes but a part of one. These potatoes are really stupendous; one
that I had in my hand I measured, and found it to be nearly a foot long,
and wide in proportion! Seventy tons of these gigantic tubers, grown
without the aid of any fertilisers, were taken from nine acres. Turnips
flourish in the same way and grow to the weight of 3 and 5 lb. It is not
“some pumpkins,” as they say in America, but “some turnips,” as they say
in Australia. Onions also grow to an immense size, often weighing over 6
lb. each.

Albany and its surroundings are really as near perfection as it is
possible for any place to be. It has a heavenly summer climate, the
coolest in Australia. A day is considered hot if the mercury rises above
80°. During the week of the terrible heat-wave, when in other parts
of the colony the temperature was from 110° to 115°, the record heat
here was 95°. There are never by any chance hot winds. The grass is
always green and flowers are always blooming. With its miles of harbour
frontage, its lovely valleys nestling at the foot of its grand hills, its
beautiful river, and the natural drainage which keeps the little town
always clean and healthy, no wonder it should be regarded as the very
choicest of health resorts. The rainfall is abundant, and the district
seldom suffers from frost. The winters are very mild, snow has only been
known to fall two or three times, and then was so novel a sight as to
excite wonder in all the native-born Albanians. Last winter, however, Mr.
Knight, of Wattle Farm, carted into town a huge snowball that had been
rolled on his farm in the Porongurup ranges, which then were covered with
snow, and afforded the grandest spectacle ever seen here. At Mr. Knight’s
farm and orchard some magnificent fruit is grown, the apples being
sometimes over a pound in weight. I shall never forget the lovely sight
of that orchard. It is on an elevation of 1200 feet above the sea-level,
and commands a view of the rich and fertile valleys around. The soil is
of a rich deep chocolate colour, and the country is stated by experts to
be volcanic.

Besides being endowed with beauty and richness of soil, Albany is likely
to become famous as a coal- and gold-producing district, for coal has
recently been found, and a company which will make further researches
formed. Timber also is abundant, and copper has recently been found at
the Phillips River, about 180 miles away. Thousands of people who have
gone direct to the goldfields have no idea of the beauty of this place.
They only think of Western Australia as a place in which, to look for
gold, and when that has been obtained in sufficiency, to be left behind
as quickly as possible. Tinned fruits, meat and vegetables have until
recently been the staple food of dwellers in the goldfields; but, as
population increases and fertile lands are taken up and cultivated,
a sufficiency of fresh fruits for all requirements will probably be
produced before long.

[Illustration: CIVILISED ABORIGINALS AT KENDINUP STATION]

The land regulations of Western Australia are so favourable to the
colonist that, if well known in England and upon the continent of Europe,
they would probably attract many families of the vine-growing, artisan,
and small capitalist classes. Any person over the age of eighteen, who
is the head of a family, can take up an area of 160 acres of land for a
free or homestead farm. A deposit of £1 is required as a guarantee of
_bona fides_. The applicant must live on the land for six months of each
year, and within two years must spend £30 in clearing or cropping, or put
down two acres of garden, orchard or vineyard; within five years, one
quarter of the selection must be fenced and one-eighth cropped; within
seven years the whole area must be fenced, and one quarter cultivated.
The selector then becomes entitled to his certificate of title, after
having paid for it and the cost of survey. Direct purchase can be made,
if desired, of from 100 to 5000 acres. The land is valued at 10_s._ per
acre, of which 10 per cent. is payable on application and the balance by
four quarterly instalments. Applicants must fence in the course of three
years and spend 5_s._ per acre within seven years, and then can acquire
their certificates of title. Grazing farms can be taken up at a rental of
2½_d._ per acre. Pastoral leases, or grass rights for grazing purposes,
can be got for the nominal rental of 2_s._ 6_d._ per 1000 acres per
annum and upwards. Garden lots, from 5 up to 50 acres, can be obtained.
In this case the land is valued at 20_s._ per acre, and the plot must
be fenced within three years, one-tenth to be put under cultivation as
a _bona fide_ garden. The terms are 10 per cent. deposit on application
and the balance in six half-yearly instalments. In addition to all this,
the Government have done yet more to induce land settlements by offering
assistance from the Agricultural Bank, created by the late Premier, Sir
John Forrest, for the benefit of all who desire to make a home in Western
Australia. This bank will lend money on freeholds at conditional purchase
(already fenced) to the amount of £800. An application fee of 1 per cent.
on the loan is demanded, and this amount covers cost of inspection
and mortgage. The amount lent is repayable by the borrower in thirty
years; for the first five years the interest is payable half-yearly. At
the sixth year a sinking fund of 4 per cent. commences, and continues
until the end of the thirty years, when the debt is wiped out. There are
Government land agents in nearly every agricultural town of the colony,
and a would-be selector arriving and communicating with the Government
agent receives all the assistance he wishes in making his selection. The
present population of Albany is about 3500.

[Illustration: The Residency, Albany]

A fine Quarantine Station has lately been built at a cost of £10,000. The
forts are very interesting. No doubt, in the future Albany will become
an important Naval station. An Imperial Officer of the Royal Artillery
is in command, there is a small garrison, and some murderous-looking
guns are in readiness to give a warm reception to any enemy who may
appear. Before leaving Albany I accepted an invitation to take a trip
out into the Sound. This was named by Vancouver, in 1791, King George’s
Sound, after the then reigning sovereign of England. It is sheltered by
magnificent granite rocks or headlands, and the anchorage is perfect,
for the islands of Breaksea, Michaelmas, and Haul Off Rock—an immense
block of stone, almost like a mediæval fortress—break the ocean swell.
The beauties of King George’s Sound have been well known since the first
navigators sought refuge in its quiet waters, and its maritime value can
never cease.

I said “Good-bye” with much regret to the many friends made during my
short stay in this little town, where even the Railway Reserve is a
perfect garden of Arum lilies. These peerless flowers seem to grow wild,
and their stately heads are to be seen everywhere. The scent of the
boronia is wafted on the breeze from afar; you hear the merry laughter
of boating-parties and of children who come along with their hands full
of gorgeous wild flowers. One of the townsfolk brought me a lovely
collection of orchids, of which there are many varieties to be found
hereabout; another friend brought me a collection of Western Australia
curiosities, shells, corals, &c.; indeed I was overwhelmed with kindness
by the warm-hearted people, and could not but be sorry to leave a place
where I had been received with so much kindness.




[Illustration: A Chopping Contest.]




CHAPTER II

    Torbay—Denmark Timber Mills—Mount
    Barker—Katanning—Wagin—Narrogin—Beverly—York—Lovely Wildflowers.


Leaving Albany under more auspicious circumstances this time than when I
had left it by road, I took my seat in the train, my destination being
Denmark Mills, where I went to see a great timber station and Jarrah
Forest. On arrival at Torbay Junction, 9 miles from Albany, I left the
mail train and took the timber train, as the company, who own the Denmark
Timber Mills, have a private line running to that place; once seated
I was soon carried into the timber country. We passed through country
covered with boronia and other sweet flowers, and with Sheoak, Karri,
and Jarrah trees. We crossed the Hay river and came to Denmark Mill and
township. We were now in the thick of the Karri country, covered with
immense trees. The site of the township, covering 150 acres, has, of
course, been cleared, and there are many comfortable wooden and slab
cottages with nice gardens attached, giving a plentiful supply of fruit
and vegetables; as well as a good store, where everything appertaining
to housekeeping can be obtained. No liquor is allowed to be sold at the
mill on account of the dangerous nature of the occupation, consequently
this is a model township. There are several coffee-houses, and, in spite
of their enforced sobriety, the men seem to be very jolly and happy. An
enormous stack of timber was ready to be shipped to Colombo, and the men
were at work cutting more, as the enormous demand for Western Australian
wood keeps the workmen busy night and day, working in relays. The line
train wound round the hills in picturesque fashion, until we came to
a valley which looked more picturesque still, but rather dangerous to
cross in a timber-train. Here the flying fox or aerial tram is used to
bridge the steep part and to carry small timber. I was glad I did not
venture down into the valley, for I was afterwards told that it was not
an infrequent occurrence for the timber-trucks, and occasionally the
engine also, to leave the line, and as the trucks are of the roughest
description, consisting merely of four wheels and a platform, and are
loaded with immense logs, the passenger can only travel on the engine,
or on the “dummy,” which is a special truck placed immediately behind
the engine to keep it from being damaged in case some huge log, weighing
perhaps 20 tons, should slide forward in the course of a descent. It is
difficult to give an idea of the size of the gigantic Karri-trees here.
One which I saw was quite hollow, and a bullock team drove right through
it with perfect ease. In returning to the town I saw another large
quantity of battens or pickets waiting to be shipped for London to fence
two large cemeteries. Enormous fires are always burning in the town to
consume the great heaps of waste from the mills. A pile, about 120 feet
high, was waiting to be burned, and it did seem a pity that good wood
should be reduced to ashes merely to get it out of the way. A scheme for
shipping the refuse of the mills to America for conversion into paper has
lately been mooted.

[Illustration: THE HOMESTEAD, KENDINUP STATION]

[Illustration: Hauling Logs at the Mills]

The Karri-trees, grow to a height of 300 feet, with a circumference of
from 20 to 30 feet. From one Karri-tree alone 100 tons of timber have
been cut. Karri is also called _Eucalyptus collossea_ or _diversicolor_,
the latter name denoting the difference between its leaves and those
of other eucalypti. The timber is impervious to damp. I was shown a
block cut from a log that had been buried forty-six years in moist
earth, and it was perfectly sound. For mining, harbour works, railways
and street-paving the wood is unequalled, and is now greatly used in
different parts of London, notably in paving Charing Cross, where traffic
goes on at the rate of 402 omnibuses every hour; and in Paris the Rue
Lafayette and Rue Château d’Eau are also paved with our famous Australian
woods. This particular wood is preferred for street-paving because it is
safer for horse traffic than other kinds; observations taken by Colonel
Hayward, late City Engineer of London, have shown that horses might be
expected to travel over 446 miles of Karri road without accident. On
Westminster Bridge, London (south side), the Jarrah paving has lasted
for seven years. This wood is also being used all over the world for
jetty piles; some enormous ones, 90 feet in length, were waiting at the
train-shed to go to Albany, where thirty vessels are under charter to
take the timber away to South Africa, South America, India, &c. There
is another very large karri district which I mean to visit; I must not
therefore exhaust all I have to say about karri timber here, but pass
on, leaving behind Denmark Mill with its 20,000 acres of forest, where
the manager told me over two million loads of timber were waiting to be
cut down. Mr. Millar also owns very large jarrah forests, the Wagerup of
35,000 acres, and the Mornington, 55,000 acres, and employs upon them a
very large staff of workmen.

Returning next day to Torbay Junction, I caught the mail-train and
continued my travels, passing thousands of acres of land waiting for
selectors. Stopping at Mount Barker, 28 miles from Torbay, I visited the
homestead of Mr. Somnes, the land around which was first cultivated over
40 years ago by Mr. Somnes, senior, now 90 years of age, and many of the
fruit-trees, though planted so long ago, are still bearing good crops of
fruit. Over 55 acres of fruit-trees of different kinds, bearing lovely
fruit, testify to the excellence of the soil. Two thousand apple-trees
seem to be specially prolific. In another part of the Mount Barker
district, Mr. Miller’s estate, comprising more than 5000 acres, has a
fine orchard of over 6000 fruit-trees of all descriptions. Two other
orchards, not quite so large but with much exquisite fruit, are not
far off, and the old homestead of St. Werbergs, where the late Colonel
Warburton resided, is a place of much interest. In addition to fruit, the
necessary potato and onion are being cultivated, and in some cases yield
very largely per acre. It was my intention to stay at Katanning, as I
wished to see the much-talked-of orchard and vineyard of the Hon. F. H.
Piesse.

It being night when I arrived, I could not see what the place was like,
but in the morning light I found it a most charming little village.
A great deal of land has recently been taken up by selectors; during
last year over 1500 applications were made for homesteads and farms
on conditional purchase, and many more for pastoral leases and town
and suburban lots. The harvest returns here are very satisfactory, 15
bushels of wheat to the acre being the average. Many farmers are coming
over from the other colonies to select land for farms, as well as people
from England and other countries. The Katanning area contains 100,000
acres, so there is plenty of room for many farms and orchards. Assisted
passages are granted from England to intending farmers and agriculturists
and their families, also to single women and widows. They can come to
this colony by only paying £8 5_s._ towards their passages. These people
must, however, be approved by the Agent-General, Hon. Henry Bruce Lefroy,
in London (15 Victoria Street, Westminster, S.W.), from whose clerks
intending passengers can get any necessary information by writing to ask
for it. On arrival in Western Australia the new-comer will be afforded
every assistance by the Government land-agents who are stationed in the
principal towns.

The orchards and vineyards of Mr. Piesse are really wonderful. There are
65 acres of fruit-trees, bearing all kinds of fruit of exquisite flavour,
some of the pears weighing over 2 lb. each, and the peaches, apricots,
and apples of equal size and beauty. The apples grown here are famed for
their size, sweetness, and flavour.

There were acres and acres of vines loaded with large and luscious
grapes, the purple ones, with their lovely bloom, offering a picture to
the eye as well as refreshment to the palate. The cost of clearing land
in this district is only from 35s. to £3 per acre, so that any one with
small capital could soon have an orchard or farm of their own. The day is
evidently not far distant when Western Australia will not only produce
sufficient for all her own requirements, but, being nearer the European
markets by several days’ journey than the other colonies, will be able
to supply the markets of the outside world with her fruits, especially
grapes, the soil in some parts being particularly suitable for vine
culture. Her goldfields may in time be exhausted, her forests may be
converted into timber, but the soil will always remain and vines will
always grow as long as the sun shines to mature the grapes for wine to
make glad the heart of man. Almond-trees also grow wonderfully well, and
tons of almonds are sent every year from Katanning to different parts of
the colonies.

One very great feature connected with fruit farming in Western Australia
is that there are no fruit pests in the colony, no phylloxera, no codlin
moth, and no nasty little fruit-fly to spoil the growth of things. Every
care is taken that nothing of the kind shall be brought here from other
places, all fruit being rigorously examined by experts before being
passed by the Customs.

Seated behind a fast pair of Australian brumbys—(these horses, called by
the natives Warrigals, are very hardy animals, and are well known to go
longer distances without nourishment of any sort than any others of their
kind; when proper food is unobtainable, they can subsist on the driest
of spinifex grass, or scrub, and what would kill other horses does not
seem materially to injure them)—I had a lovely drive over Mr. Piesse’s
properties. One splendid field of wheat, 300 acres in extent, was a great
sight. As far as the eye could reach this field, with its magnificent
crop, waved before the breeze. We had passed the orchard with its acres
of fruit-trees bending beneath the weight of fruit. Then we came to the
vines with their rich and luscious grapes, then—a complete and charming
change of scene—to the cornfield. On the far side of the field two
waggons, each drawn by nine horses and laden with a tremendous load of
produce of the glorious earth, were wending their way to the mill, which
was seen in the distance on the other side. A forest of trees, white gum,
York gum, and raspberry wood, sent a subtle perfume through the air.
Opening a large white double gate (one of many), we drove right through
the pretty cornfield, and one could imagine the feelings of Bobby Burns
when he wrote his exquisite poem, “When the corn is waving, Annie dear.”
Returning on the other side of the field, a pretty view is seen of the
village of Katanning bathed in the golden sunlight.

We passed the model farm of Mr. Stanbury and came to Mr. Piesse’s
splendid and most interesting mill: all the very newest machinery for
turning the ripe corn into flour is here. I thought of our ancestors
crushing wheat between stones, and watched the beautiful white stuff
coming down the huge cylinders, automatically filling the corn sacks
and coming to a dead stop when full, with no assistance from the human
hand, while the man who had placed the sack on the cylinder stood by
sewing up with twine the last one filled. The click came to notify that
a bag was full; it was taken off, and another put on to go through the
same process. Tons of refuse from the wheat were being thrown out, and
on my asking what was done with it, Mr. Piesse said that it was given to
the pigs. This splendid mill was built in 1891, but, in consequence of
the rush to goldfields which broke out in 1893, lay idle for nearly two
years, all the produce being wanted for chaff, which could not be cut
quick enough for the demand.

A great deal of land-clearing is going on in the different selections,
and it is interesting to see the forest devil or tree-puller at work.
This operates by means of a chain placed round the tree and a lever
worked by a man; in about 15 minutes a great tree will come up root and
branch, and fall never to rise again.

[Illustration: Ready for Cross-cutting, Denmark Mills]

Resuming my journey next morning, I once more sped on by train through
the flower-scented country, passing Wagin, Narrogin, famous for oranges;
Pingelly, and Beverley (all rich agricultural country). Here we partook
of a very good repast, this being the place where many Perth passengers
break the journey when going to Albany, or _vice versâ_; then, after a
further run of 20 miles, we stopped at the pretty little town of York, on
the banks of the Avon river. It nestles in a valley almost surrounded
by green hills, and as I walked across the bridge, built of jarrah-wood,
that spans the pretty river, I thought I had never seen a more pastoral
or a prettier place. The town is in two parts, one each side of the Avon,
which is crossed by three bridges. The pale yellow fields of corn, the
pretty houses on the hillsides, the beautiful cattle grazing, and the
fruit growing in profusion in the various gardens and orchards, make a
charming picture. Quantities of sandal-wood grow close to the town, and
constitute a valuable industry; the jam-wood also thrives well, and the
scent of it makes one imagine oneself in the vicinity of a raspberry-jam
factory. The headquarters of Parker’s Eucalyptus Distillery are here. The
distillery is at Dangin, about 40 miles off, where the beautiful fruits
that grow at York are preserved by the same firm, and are quite tempting
to look at and exquisite to taste. Farming is very advanced in York.
I was shown some wheat from a farm, a portion of a crop that yielded
32 bushels per acre. The farmers employ the very latest improvements
in machinery, and say that, though expensive at first, they find these
cheaper in the end, the expense of working the land being greatly reduced
by using the newest strippers, &c. It speaks well for the productive
capacity of the district that 24,000 bushels of splendid wheat were
waiting, at the Empire Milling Company’s storehouse, to be turned into
flour.

Driving from York to Greenhills, through the Avon valley, I passed Mr.
Jesse Scott’s magnificent farm. Imagine a cornfield, or, I should say, a
succession of cornfields, of 450 acres, on some parts of which the oats
had attained the height of 7 feet. These portions of the fields would
yield 60 bushels to the acre, and the whole 450 acres would average 35
bushels per acre. It was, indeed, a magnificent sight. On other parts of
Mr. Scott’s property rye, buffalo, and prairie grass were making great
progress, while 12 acres were planted with vines.

[Illustration: YORK]

The tanning industry is well represented. I saw splendid samples of plain
and fancy leather when visiting Mr. Hay’s factory; one enormous side
weighed 39 pounds, kangaroo skins are also tanned and make a beautiful
shiny leather. Kangaroo meat is eaten here, although beef and mutton are
plentiful. Many people seem to prefer “Roo” steak. I confess I was rather
surprised at breakfast to hear the waiter, in reading the menu, mention
the latter dish. I did not test it, but at dinner tried kangaroo-tail
soup, and found it really excellent. The much-esteemed Roman Catholic
priest, Father Gibney, brother of Bishop Gibney, lives in York, and also
has a pretty little place (which is his hobby) called Springfield, about
three miles out. The Rev. Father has hundreds of fruit-trees of different
kinds, and quite an orangery. I brought away several branches with eight
or nine oranges on each as mementoes of my very pleasant visit. There
are some good buildings, a fine Post Office, Mechanics’ Institute,
Court-house, and some handsome churches, as well as many good shops. York
is one of the oldest Western Australian towns, and enjoys the distinction
of being the place where the first official execution took place in
1840. The wife of a settler, Mrs. Cook, and her infant, were murdered
by aborigines during the absence of her husband. The murderers escaped
into the Bush, and were only brought to justice through a tribal quarrel
which resulted in some natives betraying them. They were conveyed to the
scene of their crime and hanged in chains, in the presence of a large
gathering of natives. Up to this time there was an impression amongst the
natives that an absence in the bush, long or short, absolved them from
punishment. This execution dispelled any idea of that kind which they may
have entertained, and taught them a wholesome lesson.

A very well-known person in early times was called the Duke of York. He
used to go between Perth and York in a little cart carrying goods, not
least of which was a keg of rum, the virtues of which would have been
even more warmly appreciated if the old fellow had left it in its natural
state, and not mixed so much _aqua pura_ with it. His descendants have
risen in the world, and in place of the keg of rum of their ancestor have
now bonded stores of large extent.

On leaving York _en route_ for Perth the train journey was rendered
delightful by the beautiful carpet of wild and many-coloured flowers on
each side of the line. As the train sped past the idea struck me that
these flowers—lovely immortelles, white, pink, and yellow, growing in
countless millions—could be turned to good account. Conversing with a
Westralian (white) native in the train, I find such a thing had never
been thought of, and what could be made a source of wealth by some
energetic people seems here hardly to be noticed. Thousands of crosses,
wreaths, anchors, screens, fans, and other decorations could be made
of these flowers, and would, I am sure, command a ready sale on the
Continent, especially in France, where there is such a love of flowers
for ceremonial purposes. At present, like the boronia, which usually
seems to waste its sweetness on the desert air, they appear to be not
much admired, except by people travelling through the country, who
cannot fail to be impressed, like myself, by their beauty. For perfumery
purposes, the little coffee-coloured boronia must have a great future
before it, as well as the lovely immortelles. My friend in the train
said, “I don’t think they are much good.” He put me in mind of the
soldier, a good many years ago, who, on the defeat of Parses the Persian,
found a bag of shining leather filled with pearls. Not knowing their
value, he threw them away, but kept the leather bag, saying, “What was of
no use could be of no value.”




[Illustration: Moirs’ Buildings]




CHAPTER III

    Perth—Public Buildings—Yacht Clubs—Government House—Recreation
    Ground—Lovely Perth Park—“Bond or Free.”


And now for Perth, the capital city of the Golden West. As I remember it
on my last arrival, after my memorable journey across the sand plains, it
was a very sleepy little town. Now it is a handsome and prosperous city,
with noble buildings on all sides, electric light, tramcars, beautiful
parks around it, and yachts dancing on the broad waters of the Swan
river. Perth is beautifully situated, and one cannot fail to be charmed
with its picturesque and lovely surroundings.

[Illustration: Swan River, Perth]

Perth on a Spring day presents a charming and animated picture. Boats
and steamers ply across Perth Water to and from South Perth on the other
shore, while black swans, which are to be seen in hundreds, are much
admired by the many visitors. The pretty villas, shrubberies and trees,
the old mill at the Point, and Mount Eliza lifting above everything its
smiling face perfectly ablaze with gorgeous wild flowers of every colour,
all help to give charm to the scene. St. George’s Terrace, the principal
fashionable street, is nearly two miles in length and planted with shady
trees. The Council have also lately had lemon-trees put in, with the
idea, I suppose, of presently raising a crop of lemons. The golden fruit
growing along the street will be something novel, but not, perhaps,
financially profitable, since in the hot summer time it will offer rather
a temptation to small boys who may have a leaning towards lemon squash.
Russell Square will, in course of time, be as fine a public ground as
any in Western Australia. A great day of tree-planting recently occurred
there. Mr. Randall, Minister of Education, and the Mayor of Perth,
assisted by some of the city fathers, planted the first trees: the rest
were set by the school children, who had been invited to attend. Many
beautiful Westralian, tropical, and sub-tropical trees will in future
throw their grateful shade over this fine square.

[Illustration: HAY STREET, PERTH]

Many handsome public buildings have lately been erected in Perth: Moirs’
Buildings, Prince’s Buildings, the Bank of New South Wales, De Baun’s
Hotel, the Esplanade Hotel, and the new Public Works Offices would
do credit to any city in the world. The Town Hall, which, although
an imposing-looking building, is old, will shortly be removed, the
Government having been offered a very large sum for the site, which is
one of the most important in Perth, and very valuable. A new Town Hall
will, accordingly, rise in some quieter part of the city. The Post Office
is a fine building in the French Renaissance style. Then there are the
Mines Department Offices, the Mechanics’ Institute, with its large hall
for entertainments, and St. George’s Hall; Cremorne Gardens, where in the
hot weather people take their amusements in the open air while smoking
and otherwise refreshing themselves; there is a fine theatre in Hay
Street, and another will shortly be erected in Barrack Street; across
the bridge we come to the Victoria Public Library, a splendid stone
building recently built, with an excellent library of 28,000 books and
pamphlets. The Museum adjoins it, and contains valuable specimens of all
the minerals of the colony, as well as biological and botanical samples.
The Railway Station and Offices form a fine block of buildings, and an
overhead railway is shortly to be started. There are some very large
churches, Trinity Church, St. George’s Cathedral, and Wesley Church,
in connection with which the new Queen’s Hall and the fine block of
buildings adjoining it have been erected. The Roman Catholic Cathedral,
an imposing structure on the hill overlooking the city, has on Sundays a
very large congregation. The Bishop’s Palace and Convent are near it. Not
far off is the Hospital, which is a credit to Perth, not only on account
of the arrangements, which are excellent, but on account of the kindness,
skilfulness, and attention received by the patients. It is most highly
spoken of by all who have ever been its inmates. The Royal Mint is a new
and handsome building, recently opened and Western Australia can now coin
its own gold into sovereigns, instead of sending it to Melbourne, as was
formerly done.

[Illustration: Perth Railway Station]

Perth, having such a broad river, has also several very fine yachts
and rowing clubs. The Swan River Rowing Club is one of the oldest
institutions, and has not only a splendid new boathouse, whose
accommodation and appointments excel those of any other on this side of
the continent, but also the newest racing-skiffs procurable and handsome
sailing-boats. The Club also has splendid gymnastic appliances, of which
the members avail themselves largely. The Club’s rowing prowess has
earned the distinction of being “at the head of the river.” The Royal
Perth Yacht Club also has a spacious club-house by the riverside, and the
many white-winged yachts that form the flotilla are a pretty sight when
sailing on the broad bosom of the Swan.

Government House is a very handsome residence, its towers and colonnade
giving it a most picturesque appearance, and the grounds, though small,
are very beautiful; they slope gently down to the river by a series of
terraces, and contain many rare plants and shrubs.

The Recreation Ground is quite close to the city. It is well laid out,
and on holiday afternoons the cricket and football clubs indulge in
their favourite sport, under the sunny skies and genial air that render
open-air existence so delightful in Perth. A mimic fleet moored in the
river faces the ground. This fleet belongs to the Royal Perth Yacht Club,
whose club-boathouse is here. At the upper part is the bowling-green,
where the gentlemen of Perth who have passed their first youth take
their favourite exercise. Many ladies are to be found there on a fine
afternoon, for the club members are very gallant and always have nice
afternoon tea and its accessories for their lady visitors. The Cricket
Association possess a very fine ground, covering fourteen acres, at the
other end of the town, near the Causeway.

[Illustration: Melville Water]

It is only recently, since Western Australia has made such remarkable
strides, that the now lovely Perth Park has been appreciated. A few years
ago it was nothing but wild bush, and though, of course, the view was
just as good as it is now, few people ever cared to toil up the sandhills
to the top of the Mount in order to see it. You can now go by tram, and
a transformation has taken place. The park is surrounded by a fence,
and has been laid out in paths and gardens, while pretty summer-houses
have been built; it is five miles in circumference, and on the west side
are numerous villas, gardens, and good roads. The observatory, near
the entrance gate, forms an imposing landmark. Standing at this point
a magnificent panorama is spread before you. The city of Perth lies at
your feet, while far away in the distance the noble Swan river winds
its way to Fremantle and Guildford. You feel as if you are almost up in
the clouds looking down at the lovely scene of the earth beneath. Going
along the broad drive you come to the highest pavilion on the summit of
the Mount. Perth Water, with the boat-sheds and their many boats and
yachts, and little steamers plying across to South Perth, lies like a
jewel below. At the foot of the Mount are situated the Infirm Old Men’s
Depôt and the splendid Swan Brewery. The road continues on, and we soon
begin to go down the incline, where another still finer view looms in the
distance. Crawley Park and the residence of Sir George Shenton are at
the foot, the point standing sharply out of the blue water. Across the
river is Melville Park. The scene is so exquisite that one cannot bear to
go on, but must pull up the horse and stop for a few minutes, that the
mind may drink in the sight. I have seen many beautiful places in the
other colonies, and in New Zealand; but the view from Mount Eliza on a
spring morning in the season of blossom, when every wild bush is ablaze
with flowers, is a sight never to be forgotten. I felt I must stay for
a while and gather some of the beautiful and quaint wildflowers, which
are far more varied than any I had ever before seen. I found afterwards
that by doing so I had transgressed the law, but, being a stranger, hope
for forgiveness. Besides the flowers that grow in native profusion, many
species have been transplanted from other parts of the colony. Young
eucalyptus and tica folia, trees which are indigenous to the Albany
district, and bear a handsome scarlet flower, have been planted on both
sides of the road, and will in time form an avenue.

Many kinds of trees and flowers abound, the callistemon, with its
brilliant scarlet plumes; the petrophila, with its exquisite velvety
softness; banksias, honeysuckles, verticordias, with their lemon-centred
foliage; the beautiful snowflake flower; the sweet-smelling, rich yellow
hibbertia; the pretty blue gardenia, the lovely lilac hibiscus, or
native tulip, fringed lilies, satin flowers, and others too numerous
to particularise, form a picture so strikingly beautiful that I shall
never forget the magnificent scene of green hills and flowery dales,
country and town, blue sky and opal water, stretching far and wide.
Terraces have been formed, and paths wind their way down the hill to
the lower road. Here and there are rustic seats, where visitors can
rest and enjoy the splendid view, and there are, of course, tea-houses,
where you can enjoy the cup that cheers, or regale yourself with other
refreshments. Rockwork, grass plots, and all kind of flowering plants
add to the natural beauty of the spot. From the highest pavilion a
really superb view of the city and surrounding country is seen on all
sides. Steamboats are going merrily through the Narrows to the famous
and beautiful Melville Park. In the background, the Darling Ranges loom
grandly; in fact, the view is a magnificent panorama that could never be
justly described by pen. Sir John Forrest and the members of the Park
Board deserve the hearty thanks of the people for the improvements made
to this lovely spot in so short a space of time. Perth has now settled
down and become quite a quiet city again, whereas a few years ago,
when the gold fever was at its height, the state of the town was very
different. Then the excitement was tremendous. The talk everywhere was
of nothing but gold; wherever one went gold was the universal topic, and
one scarcely met a person who did not exhibit a nugget or some gold dust,
or who had not specimens in hand—received from persons interested, who
expected to make fortunes, and, indeed, in many cases did so—of gold in
quartz, or of some other stone from one of the different “shows,” as they
were called.

[Illustration: PERTH WATER]

Western Australia was once a convict settlement, and every stranger
who came to the country had to conform to the country’s laws. The term
“sandgroper” means white native; another term used here is “straight
hair,” given in the early days by the free inhabitants to the convicts,
on account of always having their hair cropped short. Thirty years ago
any one walking in the streets of Perth after 10 P.M. took his chance of
being arrested for the night. The constables on their beats invariably
threw out the challenge, “Bond or free?” and unless the person so
challenged could answer to the complete satisfaction of Constable X.Y.Z.,
he was marched off to the Waterside lock-up. A well-known citizen was
challenged by a newly appointed officer. “Halt! Bond or free?” “Free,”
answered the pedestrian. “Your name?” “Churchyard.” “Ah, that’s not good
enough,” said the officer incredulously; “who ever heard of a person of
that name before? You’ll have to come along.” After a deal of explanation
the minion of the law rather reluctantly let the citizen proceed on his
way. A few yards further along he challenged another man, who gave the
name of “Snowball.” This name was too much for the new policeman, who
remarked that he was foolish to let the other fellow go, for who ever
heard of such names before? Explanations, though freely offered, would
not be accepted by the officer, who triumphantly marched a well-known
and reputable citizen to the police-station under the belief that he was
some desperate criminal on a midnight excursion. It was not until the
prisoner was identified at the station that he was permitted to go home.
All this is now changed in Western Australia, the only convicts who are
now alive being a few old people whose terms have expired and who are now
inmates of charitable homes.




CHAPTER IV

    Darling Quarries—Kalayamba Vineyard—Mr. Brookman—Lady
    Forrest—Cambria—Mayor of Perth—Mr. Hackett—Canning Park Races.


It was a very pretty drive from Perth to the Darling Range Quarries,
where great quantities of stone for road-making and other purposes
were being turned out. The quarry is situated on the western slopes of
the range, and commands a magnificent view of the whole country to the
sea-board. The proprietor of the now prosperous quarries, Mr. Statham,
gave us a brief history of his enterprise, which began nearly five years
ago. For the first three years, March 26 was for him an unlucky day.
First he was burned out and lost between £300 and £400. In the following
year the same thing occurred, and he was a loser by £1200. The third
time, when March 26 came round, he felt disposed to stop the machinery,
but the day did not pass without accident, for the engineer was blown
up, and had to be taken to the hospital, but recovered in about a month.
Since the third accident Mr. Statham has felt proof against disaster on
March 26.

Stretching away from here in the direction of Bunbury are over 80,000
acres of well-matured land waiting for clearance and then cultivation; at
present there is no stock to feed on it, no creatures being seen but a
few wild horses.

The homestead and vine plantations of Kalayamba, belonging to Mr.
Wiedenbach, are prettily situated on the wooded banks of the Canning
river, and the grapes some of the finest that I have ever seen. Five
years ago Mr. Wiedenbach obtained cuttings at a cost of 2_s._ 6_d._
each, and from these he grafted six vines, out of that number four grew,
and at the present time the vines from the four cuttings number 500 or
600. The vinery contains 4000 vines. There are 3100 citron-trees, and
over 5000 other fruit-trees, many of them having fruit of phenomenal
size and most exquisite flavour. The oranges, especially the mandarins,
are really splendid. Last year 300 orange-trees yielded over 3000 dozen
oranges. The lemon-trees are almost as good. The climate of Western
Australia is specially suited to the growth of the orange. The most
delicious oranges I have ever tasted grow on the slopes of the Darling
Range, and must be eaten to be appreciated. The apple- and quince-trees
were positively bent to the ground with their lovely burdens; while the
almond-trees were a beautiful sight.

There is also a magnificent estate situated on the Canning river at
Cannington, called Riverside, and belonging to Mr. W. Brookman, the
well-known mining millionaire of Perth and Kalgoorlie.

This gentleman’s town house is full of fine furniture and curiosities
brought in part from Europe, among these being a dinner service of 120
pieces, each of which bears a different pattern of Venetian lace, the
whole set representing every pattern made in Venice since the earliest
manufacture of lace. In the drawing-room are exquisite chairs, the
embroidery of which is the work of a continental sisterhood; vases of
Venetian glass which cost 100 guineas each, Bohemian glass bowls in
amethyst, thickly encrusted with gold; priceless statuettes of Carrara
marble, and elegant Louis Seize cabinets containing rare curios from all
countries, are a few of the contents of this rich room; while on the
polished floor are handsome Brussels squares, on which lie rare skins,
one specimen of a magnificent Polar bear, with glistening teeth, bright
eyes, and perfect head, lying almost life-like. A fine aviary adjoining
the house is full of the twittering of birds and chattering of parrots.

[Illustration: MOUNT ELIZA AND SWAN RIVER]

After the wealth and magnificence of the Gold King’s house, it is not
to be wondered at if other homes look plainly furnished, and yet Lady
Forrest’s, although an old-fashioned house, is most pleasant to visit.
The furniture and surroundings are in exquisite taste. The afternoon I
called, the artistic drawing-room looking out into the garden of sweet
flowers was most restful to the eye. Lady Forrest is most kind and
genial, and very much liked by every one. She takes great interest in her
husband’s work, and takes many a worry from him by seeing people herself
who come to interview him. “Sir John is nearly always busy,” said Lady
Forrest pathetically, “I can’t get him to talk to me sometimes.” There
are a great many works of art in the house, especially pictures, some by
Lady Forrest herself and some by well-known artists; many portraits of
Lady Forrest’s ancestors, and also bits of lovely English scenery from
her father, the late Mr. Hammersly’s, old home in England, called Pyrton,
of which she is justly proud. Mr. Hammersly was an English sportsman, and
came to Australia many years ago. Lady Forrest is a Western Australian
born.

There are many other nice old houses in Perth, notably Mrs. O’Grady
Lefroy’s, at the upper end of St. George’s Terrace, called Cambay. The
house stands back in spacious grounds, and belongs to the family, which
is of old standing in Perth. Mr. H. Maxwell Lefroy in 1843 made an
excursion into the Lake District to the east of York, and his discoveries
have been of great value to the country. Twenty years after, in 1863,
Mr. Lefroy made a more extended exploration. Mr. H. Bruce. Lefroy,
the late genial Minister of Mines, is a Western Australian, but was
educated at Rugby, England. He was Minister of Education in 1897, and
has administered the Department of Mines with great skill, and to the
satisfaction of Parliament and people.

Next to Mrs. Lefroy’s house is that of the late Mr. Alexander Forrest, in
1900 Mayor of Perth for the third time. Mr. Forrest has also done good
service in the early exploration of the colony, and is now known as the
Cattle King, because he took up immense tracts of land in the various
districts, utilised them for cattle stations, and amassed a large fortune.

There are two daily newspapers in Perth. The _West Australian_ is edited
and owned by the Hon. J. Hackett, M.L.C. Mr. Hackett is an Irishman who
landed in Melbourne thirty-five years ago. He was a barrister, but shook
off the shackles of the law, came to Western Australia, took up land, and
eventually became proprietor of the _Western Australian_ newspaper.

The other daily, the _Morning Herald_, belongs to a syndicate. As there
are several weekly papers, and a _Sunday Times_, Perth is well supplied
with newspaper lore.

The weather being beautifully fine, I one day accepted an invitation
to the races, and behind a spanking pair of horses, and in congenial
company, whirled away to Canning Park. Arriving at the course, after a
pleasant drive, we found fully 3000 people on the picturesque racecourse.
Nature had donned her most inviting garb, the day was beautifully cool,
and the effect of the mantle of green with which the lovely country was
decked was heightened by the shades of the surrounding hills. The vista
from the grand stand was delightful, and everybody was in good spirits
and well pleased. The terrible stiffness which, as a rule, characterises
Perth society, seemed to be thrown off for a time, and the leaders did
not, as they often do, glare at all newcomers as if to say, “How dare
you come here? This is our country; stay away.” Many pleasant afternoon
tea-parties were in evidence, the racing was good, and the band played
excellently. Some very handsome dresses were worn. When we left to return
to Perth I felt quite charmed with the pretty course, and also with
my good luck, for I had won two dozen pairs of gloves and ten golden
sovereigns—quite a run of luck for me.

[Illustration: ST. GEORGE’S TERRACE]




CHAPTER V

    The Museum—Flower Show—Musical—Native Risings—Zoo—South
    Perth—The Old Mill—Moonlight.


The new public library and museum in Beaufort Street is a very handsome
building, and well worth visiting. It contains many interesting
collections of birds, beasts, fishes, and other specimens indigenous to
Western Australia. The fossils found in the coastal limestone and in the
carboniferous formations extending from the Irwin to the Gascoyne and
thence to Kimberly are truly wonderful.

The upper part of a mastodon gives one an idea of the tremendous size
and strength the animal must have had. The casts of the fish-eating
reptiles and saurians are marvellous. Any one going through the museum
and noting the productions of Western Australia, past and present—other
than gold, which many people seem to think is the only thing the colony
can produce—will be considerably surprised.

The marsupials are, I think, of especial interest, and of these there
is a large and varied collection. These marsupials or pouched animals,
from the tiny crescent wallaby, no larger than a very small rabbit,
the pretty little kangaroo-rat, and the funny spectacled wallaby, to
the rufus or red kangaroo, and the great old-man grey kangaroo, taller
than a big man, and possessed of enormous strength and vitality, are,
according to Mr. Woodward, the curator of the museum, characteristic
only of the Australian region, the only kind of animal at all like them
in the world being the American opossum. Some opossums, however, have no
pouch, but carry their young on their backs. The kangaroos, as I think
all Australians know, always carry the little Joeys snug in their pouch.
And during my travels I have often seen them peeping out of their snug
home. Many different kinds of pretty opossums come next, ranging from
the pigmy flying opossum, little ring-tail opossum, and the odd little
rabbit bandicoot to the pussy-looking black, grey, or white opossum,
whose skin and fur make such warm and comfortable rugs for cold places,
but are not often wanted in the mild climate of Western Australia. One
tiny little mouse-coloured kangaroo-rat, found only in the south of
the colony, is very pretty, and makes a dear little pet; these animals
feed on the nectar of flowers, and when tamed, on bread and honey; they
sleep all day curled up into a ball, but are very lively at night.
Sleepless persons desiring a companion may be glad to note this. The
_Myrmecobius fasciatus_, or banded ant-eater, from Coolgardie, is a most
remarkable-looking creature, as, indeed, its Latin name indicates.

The splendid collection of Western Australian birds is really surprising;
after seeing it one wonders how some people could say that there are no
birds in Australia. The typical black swan, white swan, and pelican from
the Swan River; the handsome bittern from Herdsman’s Lake, near Perth;
the giant petrel from Fremantle; enormous emus from the Murchison, are
all to be seen here, the last named with some dear little striped fluffy
young ones, the size of goslings. I have often seen these birds when
travelling on the Murchison myself. The ossifrag, a gigantic black-necked
stork from Derby, in the far north; the Australian egret, so often
plundered for ladies’ hats; magnificent sea-eagles; a most interesting
nest of the sparrow-hawk made of twigs and gum-leaves, and containing
four young ones, over whom the mother mounts guard; cockatoos, parrots
innumerable, with most lovely plumage; and last, but not least, the
graceful native companion from Broome. These are only a few of the birds
belonging to the colony of Western Australia, but I have not space to
mention more of them.

The nests of the trap-door spider are very peculiar; they look like
a piece of ordinary clay, but when the door is opened a perfectly
hollowed-out room is seen within, where the spider and his prey almost
exemplify the old rhyme of childhood’s days. Some of the moths are very
handsome, notably the diuran and the podacanthus, the first named being
very large and of a lovely heliotrope colour. From these insects to a
whale is a big jump, and the skeleton of the whale stranded at the Vasse
in 1897 and secured by Mr. E. C. B. Locke, M.L.A., for the Museum, is one
of the largest of its species, if not _the_ largest; it is nearly 80 feet
in length, and when in the flesh it must have measured 86 feet. The head
alone weighs a ton or more, and the whole skeleton is prodigious. Coming
back from viewing the whale, my attention was drawn to the first two
sovereigns struck off in the Perth Mint, which repose on a velvet bed,
and are, it appears, of much interest to the rising generation, for three
boys were looking at them with great attention. The models of all the
great and wonderful diamonds ever found in the world, some very ancient
Greek coins, and famous French medals, work of noted French medallists
also a cast of the celebrated Moabite stone, the original of which is in
the British Museum, are near here; the last named is of great interest,
being inscribed in three languages—Egyptian hieroglyphics, Semitic, and
Greek; it was discovered in 1799 in the little town of Rosetta, on the
Nile. It was the deciphering of this stone in the Greek language that
gave the clue to Egyptian hieroglyphics. There are also copies of many of
the great works of art in London and Paris, so that, although separated
by so many thousands of miles, Perth still keeps touch with the old world.

The relics from the wrecks of the _Batavia_ in 1629, and of the _Zeewyk_,
wrecked in 1727 at the Abrolhos Islands (the story of which I will tell
later on), are the most interesting things to be seen in the museum.
They consist of silver and copper coins, rosary beads, clay tobacco
pipes, copper kettles and stewpans, knives, spoons, scissors, fish-hooks
and sinkers, tumblers and wine-glasses, some of most delicate glass,
enormous greenish-looking liquor bottles, and some round ones, capable, I
should think, of holding gallons, cannon-balls and bullets, said to have
been manufactured by the mutineers on the islands, and two complete but
rather gruesome skeletons tell a silent and sorrowful tale of the past.

The wonderful shells and corals from these islands made me no longer
wonder that the Dutchmen in 1629 named them “Abros vos olhos,” or “Keep
your eyes open”; they must have named them not only for the dangers of
the coast but for the marvellous things to be seen there.

[Illustration: CITY OF PERTH]

The different kinds of shells, sponges, corals, fish, and birds are
simply amazing. I can only specify a few, amongst which are the
tremendous cup-sponge shell, fully three feet long, the peculiar
montipara or screw coral, and the enormous sponges, the many wonderful
kinds of fish, birds, &c., from these strange islands so near our shore,
as well as from Mandurah, Rottnest, Garden Island, and Fremantle must
be seen to be appreciated, and I recommend every one visiting Western
Australia to go and see them for themselves. The collection of aboriginal
curiosities and relics is ample. The skull of a notorious aboriginal
murderer called Pigeon, who gave the police much trouble in catching him,
was shown to me. This native was named Pigeon on account of his favourite
way of despatching his victims by wringing their necks. There are some
fine native shields, spears, knife dabbas, meeras or throwing-sticks,
kileys or boomerangs, &c., and some most peculiar boat-shaped shells
that are hollowed from young trees and used for carrying water or food;
a wooden helmet, exactly like a sou’-wester, makes one think that one of
the Dutch sailors who came ashore in the early days must have dropped his
hat and some savage have copied the pattern in wood. The fish-spears have
about eighteen barbs both ways; the spearheads are made of many kinds
of different glass, and nowadays the natives knock down the telegraph
insulators and make them into spearheads. In former times silex, of
which knives and chisels were made, was used, but the other material is
easier to get, and the black fellow is well known to be as much averse to
trouble as some of the white fellows. I possess three spear heads from
the Kimberly district, one of which gave the death-blow to a man from
whose chest it was extracted.

[Illustration: Aboriginal Camp]

The medicine-stick or bunganarrie used by the natives as a cure is very
strangely marked, the markings no doubt constituting some imaginary
spell. The dandie is used for tattooing, and the gunda-stick, with a
knob at the end, looks like our life-preserver. The pindie pindie is a
native ornament stick, frilled to represent a feather, and sometimes made
of pretty green and cream colour. The effect is produced by scraping
down the green part of a young branch about two inches till it frills,
then scraping the inner pale part to frill over that. A space comes
next, and then another frill, until the ornament reaches the length
required. These objects the natives stick all over their heads. They
also make very handsome ornaments of large mother-of-pearl shells by
drilling a hole through the top, and hang them by a string of hair about
their bodies. The women have an ornament made from pearl-shell called
the binjah binjah, which hangs down their back attached to a currican
or woman’s necklace. The long marrie is an ornament of kangaroo teeth
attached to a hair-string, to hang down between the eyes. The booran is
a belt made from human hair, worn by the Kimberly natives. The native
women have most stringent ideas of mourning for their dead. A picture
of one mourning for her brother shows her hair all screwed up in little
knobs with wilgie clay and fat. Wilgie is a red-coloured clay or earth
used for various rites and ceremonies. The tomahawk or pulboo has a
handle of wood, the head being made of a kind of flint or stone, fixed
in with a resinous substance called pulga or gum, made from the roots of
the spinifex grass. Native spearheads too are fastened on with this gum,
which is found in solid lumps, and dissolves with heat. String is made by
the natives from the skin of the opossum by means of an instrument called
the boolga, which consists of a long thin round stick, crossed near the
top by two shorter sticks, and has somewhat the appearance of a boy’s
kite. In making their implements they generally employ a tool called a
bedoo, which resembles a spearhead. The ongath or fire-stick is used for
lighting fires, and keeps alight a long while, burning very slowly. These
sticks are carried about almost as we carry matches. The letter-sticks of
the natives, or paper-talk as they now call them, are beautifully marked
and of different sizes, the designs on those from the Gascoyne district
being quite remarkable. Around the stick will be marked, in a kind of
blue ink, all sorts of odd signs and figures, such as a crab, a gun, a
leg, an arm, a lover’s knot, a hand and arm outstretched almost like a
masonic emblem, and many other peculiar signs best known to themselves.
The dewark, or throwing-stick, is also an interesting object, and so are
the many aboriginal carvings and the sharp stones used in their sacred
or tribal rites. The stones used for grinding their food consist of a
large flat stone and a round smooth heavy one. Nalgo is the name of the
principal seed thus ground, but they have many different kinds of food,
which I will describe later. A tree called the boobah-tree grows at
Derby, and produces a nut as large as a goose egg.

The natives about Perth and Fremantle were in early days very numerous
and troublesome. Native risings were frequent, and many hundreds of
aborigines were shot. The present site of the Great Western Hotel was
the scene of a large fight, arising out of the murder of two boys, the
sons of settlers, who were minding cows, and were set upon by the blacks.
The boys ran away to the Swan river, and one jumped in and swam across,
only to be speared on the other side. The other boy did not reach the
bank, but received five spears in his back and died at once. At this the
settlers were soon up in arms, and one bloodthirsty native called Yagin
was outlawed. He was eventually shot near Hutt Street, where the rising
took place, by Dr. Dodd, who afterwards took a large strip of his skin
from shoulder to foot, tanned it, and made it into a belt, which he wore
for years!

That silk can be grown in Perth is testified by some lovely blue and
cream-coloured handkerchiefs made from silk grown here, and presented
to the museum by Sir John Forrest. Next to this case is an old plan of
Leschenhault Port, now called Bunbury, in 1803. Also a little picture of
the ship _Success_ and a man-of-war in Careering Bay, Swan River, in 1829.

Perth does not yet boast of a large Botanic Garden, but as, in the
spring, the whole country around is one vast garden the absence is
not severely felt. There is a charming public garden, small, but very
prettily laid out, near Government House, and opposite the Post Office.

Sir John Forrest prophesied, ten years ago, that in the future Western
Australia would come to the fore, and the prophecy is being amply
fulfilled; no travellers now ever think of making a tour in Australia
without coming to the West. Mr. Frederick Villiers, the famous war
correspondent, says that when he came to the colonies, seven years ago,
he was nearly coming here, and, now having been, he professes to be so
much charmed with Perth, and the view of the Swan River, as to feel
inclined to settle down and end his days there. These little corners of
the world have made him dissatisfied with his business, and as I gazed
upon the many spots of beauty on the river before me, while the faint
red blush of the sky deepened into a crimson sunset and cast a glorious
reflection on the water, I felt myself agreeing with Mr. Villiers and
disposed to stay in my pretty Claremont home for ever, where the sun
seldom shines too fiercely and the winter is like a gentle friend.

One spring day I drove in to Perth to see the flower show, then being
held in the Town Hall. The drive over the bloom-covered slopes of the
park, the sweet odours of the pretty flowers of the Bush mingling with
that of the golden wattle, was most enjoyable. I can never ride or
drive through that park, and gaze on the beautiful scene below, without
feeling that God has indeed given us a lovely world to live in. It was
a holiday, and consequently many little parties (frequently of two)
were exploring the flower-scented knolls and enjoying the breeze from
the water. Perth was quite gay, all the carriages of the _élite_ seemed
engaged in carrying their fair owners to the flower-show. On entering
the Town Hall a perfect blaze of beauty in the shape of wild flowers met
the eye. The silver and golden wattle, laden with fragrant perfume, drew
me immediately to the spot where they were. In the “Salyang Mia-Mia”
(wattle-house) a most refreshing cup of tea was to be procured. Sitting
in this fragrant bower and sipping tea brought to mind the lines:

    All the world is turning golden, turning golden,
      Gold buttercups, gold moths upon the wing,
    Gold is shining thro’ the eyelids that were holden,
          Till the spring.

“Djanni Mia-Mia” (bark-tree house) was a triumph of rusticity, and the
collection of hibiscus, boronia, flannel-plants and mauve everlastings
were so lovely that I was obliged to buy several bunches of the different
kinds. The bamboo stall was also very artistic, and the bamboos furnished
receptacles for water, by means of which the flowers were kept fresh.
“Yanget Mia-Mia” was the name of the bush-house, which had a background
of bulrushes and blossom, and various bouquets of all sorts, sizes and
scents were so tempting that I bought more, and found myself becoming a
walking flower-garden. Wild flowers were here in every variety and hue.
Specimens of native flora had been gathered from the hills and dales for
miles around. The anygoxanthus (kangaroo paw), a most wonderful flower,
was to be seen in many different hues: the blue and red leschenaultia,
the trailing white clematis, or virgin’s bower, hanging in charming
clusters, white and red hibiscus, and the more delicate heliotrope
variety of the same flower, the delicate grey smoke-plant, with its dark
green leaves, the snowflake flower, which, when blooming on its native
earth, looks like a snow white carpet, one after another caught the eye.
These flowers have long stems, and make exquisite table decorations.
The thysanctus, or fringed lily, is a remarkable satiny-looking flower,
and has a habit of climbing. The delightful boronia has many different
varieties, the pale yellow being the prettiest, and the pink and white
coming next; the dark red or brown, however, gives off a most delightful
and refreshing perfume. The native roses are very pretty, the small blue
ones being the first and last flowers to bloom during the season. The
blossoms of the eucalyptus are of a magnificent crimson, and the delicate
pink and white flowers of the crowea hang in loose clusters. Having
travelled through so much of the Western Australian country, I recognised
many of the beautiful gems that are to be seen adorning the Bush in
various parts I visited. The kangaroo paw, before spoken of, has many
varieties, ranging from faint cream colour, through scarlet, crimson,
yellow, chrome, and green to sable, and in form is exactly like the foot
of our typical Australian animal. The little trigger (candolea) plant,
with its white flower suffused with shades of pink and yellow, and the
marianthus, a climbing flower, are extremely beautiful.

[Illustration: DRIVING IN PERTH PARK AT THE SUMMIT]

The peculiar-looking ice-plant grows in the hot dry sand of the coast.
I admired greatly some soft-tinted native tulips (pink), which were
prettily veined and almost transparent. The actinotis (or flannel
flower) is very abundant and long lasting, and therefore well fitted for
decorations. Pilotus (or cat’s paw) has a pink and white flower, and
retains its colour for a long time. A flower called the lactinostachys
is most phenomenal; the stem and leaves seem to be without sap, and have
a thick woolly covering; the flower looks so artificial that one can
hardly believe it to be real. It is found in the northern part of the
colony in hot dry localities. The clematis is a sweet pure white flower,
which literally covers the trees and shrubs where it climbs. The banksia
(or honeysuckle) is a handsome flower, with a kind of crimson cone. The
parrot-plant looks like a many-coloured bird. The grevillia (or native
fuchsia) is here in many hues. Sturt’s desert-pea is a very handsome,
brilliant scarlet flower, with black centre. The fringed verticordia,
with its lemon-centred foliage, is pretty, and so is the callistemon,
which has bright scarlet plumes. The petrophila flower has striking
blossoms that look like rich pink velvet, while the yellow flowers and
peculiarly formed leaves (resembling a stag’s horn) of the synaphea were
the most remarkable growths that I saw. Everlastings in every colour
imaginable were there. The delicate but striking beauty of various
orchids was shown to great advantage; the calendia (or spider orchid),
with its peculiar spots, was particularly attractive: the douris (or
dog-ear orchid), and the prasophyllum, with its spikes, 18 inches long,
of dense white flowers, were interesting; so was the lyperanthus orchid,
whose flowers turn black when dried; while the drakea (or hammer-head
orchid) looked almost like a little duckling. The glossodia, spotted
white, seemed as if it were varnished. Then there was a sensitive plant
called the pterostylis, which almost resembled a tiny box, with a movable
labellum, which is sensitive, and, when irritated by an insect, closes
the box and imprisons the insect. Droseracea belongs to the fly-trap
family, and has leaves and tentacles covered with a sticky juicy kind of
acid, which arrests the inquisitive little insects, who come doubtless
attracted by the dew on the leaf. As soon as these tentacles are touched
the leaf closes in upon the unwary insect, which is soon absorbed by the
juice exuded by the plant. The flower of the byblis, by far the largest
and most attractive of the species, is of a rich salmon-pink colour.
Probably the brightness of the flower attracts the insect to the stem and
leaves, which are covered with the same juice as the droseracea, but in
this instance the insect is absorbed on the surface of the plant. There
are thirty-six species of insectivorous droseracea.

[Illustration: GATHERING WILDFLOWERS]

There are hundreds of other species of orchids and thousands more of
wild flowers. The late Baron von Mueller said, “Australia is a great
continent, and much of its vegetation is yet unexplored.” The Baron added
“that more than half of the total vegetable species known in Australia
were represented in the West,” and mentioned over 9000 of them. Dr.
Morrison, our Government botanist, informed me that there were more than
3000 species of wild flowers.

As I was leaving the flower-show I noticed some very fine Anthorreas.
“The King Blackboy” is a Western Australian grass-tree much admired.
A handsome painting of the Nutsyia fire-tree, or Christmas-bush, also
demanded notice. This tree bears very bright yellow or amber flowers
about November and December, and the blossoms being of such a brilliant
colour, and growing on trees that attain the height of from 20 to 30
feet, are very conspicuous and visible at a great distance.

Taking the little steamer one morning I crossed to South Perth. The new
Zoological Gardens are worth seeing, if only for the superb view from
them. A recent visitor said that he had seen many gardens in various
parts of the world, but none in a more beautiful position than at Perth.
The gardens occupy about forty acres of ground, and are a favourite
resort on Sundays and holidays. Family parties are made up to go to the
“Zoo,” for many Western Australian children have never seen wild animals
elsewhere, except in picture-books. The grounds are beautifully laid
out; the aromatic flower-beds, ornamental ponds and rockeries, gushing
fountains, miniature castles, turrets, &c., make it a charming place to
spend an afternoon and evening. At night the grounds are illuminated with
hundreds of different-coloured lamps, which send a rainbow radiance
over the scene. Concerts are held every Saturday evening during summer,
and there is a really fine quartet, called the Orpheus, whose harmonious
blending of sweet music in the lovely summer nights is well worth
listening to; the Headquarters band also plays. Many of the animals
awakened by the sounds of music (which is said to soothe the savage
breast) evince much curiosity, others slumber on, no doubt soothed by
the sweet strains. There are two splendid lions in separate cages. The
lioness is very bad-tempered, and on being placed in the cage with the
king of beasts, instead of showing a taste for his society, clawed him
unmercifully, he standing the bad treatment in a most kingly manner. Her
highness was, therefore, placed in a cage by herself to recover her good
temper.

The baby tiger seemed to be a great favourite, and it was quite amusing
to see the antics of the monkeys in their play-room with the little
ourang-outang, with whom they seemed to fraternise amicably and to
play with quite happily. A ride on the donkey was much enjoyed by my
little niece. I wanted her to mount the dromedary, but she declined
that pleasure. Boys are pleased with the ponies, and the handsome
goat-carriages come in for a share of admiration. The sacred Indian cow
from Singapore, the newly arrived leopards, the white kangaroo (a great
favourite), and all the others, too numerous to mention, were thoroughly
inspected, and the children from the goldfields seemed delighted to see
animals hitherto only known to them through the medium of books. Hot
water is provided free of charge, and picnics are frequent; happy parties
of little ones were sitting down in the cool shade and making the place
ring with their voices. A view of the Canning river lies on one side and
of the Swan river on the other, the garden being situated on an arm of
land almost surrounded by water.

[Illustration: SOUTH PERTH FROM THE BANKS OF THE SWAN]

South Perth was in early days intended for the site of the city, but the
business parts having occupied the other side of the river, South Perth
has been left to become a most charming and aristocratic suburb, many
handsome residences, pretty villas and gardens adding to the natural
beauty of the place. An old mill is still standing on the extreme end of
the Point, and eventually a bridge will span the Swan river and connect
Mill Point with Perth at the foot of Mount Eliza, near the park. Land
is becoming very valuable here, and I have bought a plot with a view to
building a villa in this beautiful place.

I did not return by steamer, which only takes ten minutes to cross the
water, but preferred to drive round by land—a drive of about four miles.
We drove about three miles before coming to the glorious Causeway, a
stretch of water which is spanned by an enormous and handsome bridge.
From this point a moonlight view of South Perth, Perth, and the Swan
river winding its way to Guildford, is seen, and forms a very fitting end
to a day’s pleasant excursion.




[Illustration: Fremantle Pier]




CHAPTER VI

    Drive to Claremont—Osborne—Keane’s Point—The
    Chine—Cottesloe—The Ocean—North Fremantle—Arthur’s
    Head—Smelting Works—Our Contingent—Fremantle.


One bright morning I started to drive from Perth to Fremantle, a distance
of twelve miles. Taking the lower road around Mount Eliza, a beautiful
prospect lay before me. The Mount rises 200 feet above the road, which
is only a little way from the broad river; the sun shone on Melville
Water in the distance, while on the other side lay the Canning river,
with trees and hills beyond. The pretty suburb of South Perth on its arm
of land, with the old mill at the extreme end; the many little boats and
steamers going to and fro, made a charming summer-day’s picture. Along
the road past Perth Park we saw the blue and silvery water all the time,
and then, when we came to Crawley, we entered a road fenced on each side.
Valuable land is placarded for sale, and no doubt in course of time will
become even more valuable. Already streets have been laid out for a
suburb, which, being so beautifully situated, will be charming to live
in. After a pretty drive of six miles we reached the fashionable suburb
of Claremont, where there are some very elegant villas and mansions.
A mile farther on is Osborne, the most magnificent hotel and grounds
in Western Australia. This fine building stands in large gardens and
grounds, and is surrounded by splendid conservatories and terraces. There
are wide balconies, arbours, and seats, and, in the matter of beauty,
the place almost realises Claude Melnotte’s description of “a palace
lifting to eternal summer.” It seems almost incredible that three years
ago this exquisite spot was the abode only of the blackboy, banksia, and
other native trees, and a shelter for the dusky son of the soil. Towering
high above the hotel is a turret of spacious dimensions, from which the
growing port of Fremantle, with many merchant vessels and steamships
riding peacefully at anchor, may be clearly seen in the distance. The
adjacent islands of Carnac, Garden, and Rottnest, with their rugged
coast-lines, lashed by the surging waves of the ocean, are but a few
miles distant. The clearness of the air gives a wonderful range of vision
from the tower. As you turn, you behold in the distance the dark woodland
of the Darling Ranges, whose summits seem to touch the sky. In the zenith
of summer heat in Western Australia, Osborne is always delightfully
shaded and cool.

An artesian well in the grounds, which struck water at a depth of 150
feet, gives an abundant supply, capable of supplying the whole of Perth.
No less than 50,000 gallons of water are used every day on the grounds of
Osborne alone. Steamers come to Osborne jetty during the week, and every
Sunday in the summer, bringing hundreds of people to enjoy the scene.
The steamer moors at a landing at the bottom of the cliff, and hundred
of steps have to be climbed before the top is reached. The climb is made
easy by a platform with seats at the end of every flight of steps, of
which there are five, and one can rest on these to enjoy the pleasing
prospect. Pretty villas are built all around the hillsides; dear little
Freshwater Bay, with its numerous bathing-houses and jetties, the pretty
yachts and boats on its bosom looking like white-winged birds, lies at
your feet; and the wild note of the magpies, not yet frightened away
by civilisation as the aborigines have been, is heard from the trees
in the distance. Continuing our drive, we took the inner road up the
hill. Another pretty little bay and suburb called Peppermint Grove, from
the fact that at one time it was a grove of delicate peppermint-trees,
discloses itself. There are many beautiful villas with gardens, a nice
white, hard sandy beach, a fine jetty for the many boats that come from
Perth and Fremantle, and the Yacht Club House. Keane’s Point, with a
handsome old bungalow on a fine site, hides a bend of the river. The
Chine, so called from its peculiar conformation, the ridge appearing
like the backbone of an enormous whale or other gigantic sea monster, is
another pretty spot. Any one who has the fortitude to climb to the top of
the Chine will be rewarded by one of the most exquisite panoramic views
of ocean, river, flower, shrub, sea and sky ever seen. The tints of the
water from the reflection of the azure sky melting into pale yellow, then
into rich gold and crimson from the setting sun, once seen will never be
forgotten. Turning back, we resumed our drive up Forrest Street and into
the main Fremantle Road. We were now in the seaside suburb of Cottesloe,
and away over the hill lay the beautiful Cottesloe Beach, stretching
along for miles. Cottesloe is one of the most flourishing suburbs of
Perth. A few years ago it was all one dense bush; now it is full of human
life, and houses are going up in all directions as fast as the builders
can erect them. Past the quarries we went until a turn of the road
brought us to a view so magnificent that its effect can never fade from
my memory. In the distance the dark blue Indian Ocean rolled in all its
majestic splendour; North Fremantle was in sight, and so was the mouth of
the Swan river. We approached the bridge to cross it, and saw an effect
even more beautiful. From the bridge on which we stopped a few minutes
in order to gaze on this gorgeous scene we saw many fine ships lying at
anchor on the broad ocean; up the river many small boats and steamers
were moored; in the distance were white cliffs and pretty houses; the
magnificent German steamer, the _Friedrich der Grosse_, was just going
out to sea—and altogether the scene was truly a grand one. I hope I
shall not be thought to rhapsodise too much, but I can assure my readers
that I am writing exactly as I felt when first viewing the approach to
Fremantle.

[Illustration: FRESHWATER BAY, CLAREMONT]

When the new harbour is finished, Fremantle will be, as Sir John Forrest
puts it, the Brindisi of Australia. And now we crossed the bridge and
entered East Fremantle, leaving behind us the broad river winding its way
to the ocean between two splendid breakwaters.

On we drove down Cantonment Road into High Street, the principal
thoroughfare, at the top of which is the fine Town Hall with its splendid
clock. From that point the street runs to Arthur’s Head, and is connected
by a tunnel with the sea; on the top of the limestone cliff is an old
building called the Old Cantonment, formerly used as a lock-up. Fremantle
is built on a low-lying neck of land between Arthur’s Head on the one
side and the limestone heights on the other, hemmed in on one hand by
the river and on the other by the sea. The city was named after Captain
Fremantle, who first hoisted the British flag there, in 1829.

There is a fine lighthouse on Arthur’s Head. It is a white stone tower
71 feet high, with a fixed white light, visible for 16 miles. Fremantle
still possesses some old and singular-looking buildings. The old gaol
and court-house, with the harbourmaster’s quarters and the barracks,
will, no doubt, in course of time be replaced by more up-to-date
structures; there are already many very fine new buildings. Fremantle
has an excellent Grammar School, where most of the boys from Perth and
the country districts receive their education. Mr. G. Bland Humble, the
present worthy and respected Town Clerk of Fremantle, was the first
master, having been brought from England in 1886 to teach the young idea
of Western Australia how to shoot.

There are many good hotels, the Hotel Fremantle being the best at the
city end of the town, and the Hotel Australia at the upper end. This
latter is really a splendid hotel, standing in an excellent position,
with a grand view of the river, harbour, and islands beyond. The jetty is
half a mile long, and some large vessels are always lying there.

Fremantle is rapidly increasing in size and population, and social life
is not so divided as in Perth; there seem to be more geniality and not
so much stiffness about the people. A volunteer artillery corps, turf,
bicycle, rowing, cricket, and football clubs provide various forms of
social activity. There is a nice park, also a good recreation-ground, and
several places of entertainment, and the large hall in the Town Hall is
very handsome and superbly decorated. An inexhaustible supply of water is
obtained from three large wells connected by drives. The water is pumped
up by steam into reservoirs at the rate of 45,000 gallons an hour.

The smelting works about two miles from Fremantle, at Owen’s Anchorage,
have lately commenced working, and are a great boon to the goldfields,
which until recently were very much handicapped by having to send their
ore to the other colonies to be smelted.

[Illustration: NORTH FREMANTLE]

The South African War is the general topic of the day, and with what
sorrow do we read of the sacrifice of so many noble lives! Several
contingents of our brave Australians have left the different parts of the
colonies to assist their British brothers with a little of the courage
we have in the Sunny South. The second contingent has just left these
shores, and Fremantle has had the honour of giving them the send-off.
Over 30,000 people assembled to bid them farewell, and a scene of such
unbounded enthusiasm ensued as has never before been witnessed in the
colony. The magnificent steamer _Surrey_ brought the New South Wales
and South Australian contingents, and these soldiers came in for their
share of admiration no less than the Western Australians. The enthusiasm
shown for the Western Australian contingent from the time they left
the camp at Karrakatta until they waved their last good-bye from the
steamer’s side will never be forgotten. The street decorations, although
hurriedly got up, were handsome and patriotic. At the Oval, where the
reception to the troops was held, a huge marquee occupied considerable
space, and rows of tables laden with every delicacy were provided for
the troops and for the many distinguished visitors. Over 200 of the
leading society ladies of Fremantle acted as waitresses, proud to attend
on brave men soon to embark for the perils of war. Although the men were
going away to face battle, all seemed jubilant, proud, and confident.
The three contingents were all like brothers. The cries of the multitude
were: “Cheers for the Cornstalks of New South Wales,” another for the
“Gum-suckers of Victoria,” one for the “Crow-eaters of South Australia,”
and “A great big one for Westralians; do your best, boys!”[1] At the
wharf, prior to the _Surrey_ leaving next day, somebody handed up a
bottle of whisky, intending it for a Westralian trooper. A Cornstalk,
however, became possessed of it. “That’s not for you, it’s for one of the
Western Australians,” shouted the donor. “It doesn’t matter, we’re all
alike, we’ll soon be Federated Australia,” laughed the Cornstalk, and
opening the bottle took a drop, then handed it round to the rest, who all
participated in it with real federal spirit. When the time came for the
troopship to leave, some affecting scenes took place between mothers,
sisters, wives and soldiers, but all bore up as bravely as possible.
Were they not going for the glory of Old England and the honour of their
beloved Queen?

A Bushmen’s contingent has since left all the colonies, comprising men
who are accustomed to rough-riding and thoroughly used to rough life in
most trying conditions. From what I know of many of the Bushmen I have
met in my travels, I should say that they will afford the British troops
valuable aid in reconnoitring the wily Boer.

As we all know, the Australians have since bravely distinguished
themselves, and our late dearly beloved Queen testified her approval of
their actions in many ways. Her late Majesty’s gracious act of proposing
that the Duke and Duchess of York should go so far in order to open
the Federal Parliament of Australia endeared her still more, were that
possible, to the hearts of her colonial subjects. As one of them who saw
the late lamented Prince Edward and Prince George when they went out to
Australia years ago in the _Bacchante_, “I can testify to the unswerving
loyalty and affection of Australians for our beloved Queen and all her
family.”

[Illustration: HIGH STREET, FREMANTLE]

And what a brilliant record our Western Australians, especially those of
the first contingent, who have returned to Perth, have taken back with
them! Truly they deserve the laurel-wreath of honour, while those who
fell on the field of battle, giving up their lives for their beloved
Queen and country, will live for all time in our hearts. I cannot do
better, I am sure, than give Major McWilliams’ description (at the
banquet given in Perth in honour of their return) of the way in which
some Australians bravely distinguished themselves.

“Before closing, he desired to tell them a story about their entry
into Pretoria. He thought it was an incident that all who participated
in would remember to the last days of their lives. The hills around
Pretoria were most strongly held by the enemy. Their mounted infantry,
which included the 1st Western Australians, were ordered to take a hill.
They climbed up the kopje, the horses being led behind them, and fought
until relieved by the Gordon Highlanders. Their little band had to do
the work of infantry, and the handful of men held the top of that hill,
and kept the enemy at bay, until the Imperial troops appeared on the
scene. The latter said: ‘This is our job now; you are mounted, and you
will be required somewhere else.’ The colonials informally handed over
the work to the Highlanders, and an order came from Colonel De Lisle to
move back to the hills to outflank the enemy, if possible. They did so
under a heavy fire, but the enemy, on seeing them, must have exaggerated
their numbers, for they made off into Pretoria as fast as they could. The
Western Australians followed, and on that night got within a thousand
yards of Pretoria. At that time Lord Roberts’ main column was six miles
in their rear. Their infantry decided to hold the position close to
Pretoria until morning. During that night one of their number, a son of
an esteemed resident of Perth—he referred to Captain Parker—was sent with
a few men into Pretoria to blow up the line, and he certainly had the
honour of being the first armed man to enter Pretoria. That, he thought,
was a great thing to claim for a Western Australian. He might also state
a fact not generally known, that the flag of truce on the night before
was taken in by a New South Wales officer, an Australian born. This
little company numbered less than one hundred men.”

                 TWO MORE COLONIAL VICTORIA CROSSES.

    The _Gazette_ of October 4 states that the King has been
    graciously pleased to signify his intention to confer the
    decoration of the Victoria Cross on Lieut. F. W. Bell, West
    Australian Mounted Infantry, and Farrier-Major W. J. Hardham,
    4th New Zealand Contingent.

    At Brakpan, on May 16, 1901, when retiring through a heavy
    fire after holding the right flank, Lieut. Bell noticed a man
    dismounted, and returned and took him up behind him; the horse
    not being equal to the weight fell with them; Lieut. Bell then
    remained behind, and covered the man’s retirement till he was
    out of danger.

    Lieut. F. W. Bell is a Western Australian of the third
    generation. He was one of the handful of men who so
    distinguished themselves at Slingersfontein, when twenty-five
    members of the corps held a body of twelve times their number
    of Boers in check while the main body of troops—to which the
    corps was attached—and the guns retired.

    Near Faauwpoort, on January 28, 1901, Farrier-Major W. J.
    Hardham was with a section which was extended and hotly engaged
    with a party of about twenty Boers. Just before the force
    commenced to retire Trooper M’Crae was wounded and his horse
    killed. Farrier-Major Hardman at once went under a heavy fire
    to his assistance, dismounted, and placed him on his own horse,
    and ran alongside until he had guided him to a place of safety.

    Farrier-Major Hardham is a blacksmith, of Wellington, New
    Zealand.




CHAPTER VII

ROTTNEST

    Steam to Rottnest—The Lovely River—Crawley Point—The
    Island—Boys’ Orphanage—Fremantle Harbour.


A very pleasant excursion is to Rottnest Island, twelve miles from
Fremantle. We left Perth in the morning in the steamer to go down the
Swan river, and then across the harbour from Fremantle to the island.
The day was perfect, the scenery exquisite. I do not think the Eastern
Colonists are aware how beautiful their Western sister is, or they would
flock over here still faster than they are now doing. Leaving South
Perth at our back, we had the magnificent stretch of Melville Water in
front of us. Melville Park Estate is a very valuable property, and is
rapidly being transformed from the primeval bush into a place of busy
life; residential areas are being laid out, houses have been built,
suburbs will soon arise, and land is rapidly going up in value. The
little steamer for Coffee Point was just ahead of us, and at the Point
we could see a fine bungalow, which must be a pleasant house to live in.
Wattle-trees and beautiful flowers were seen in abundance through the
field glass I had brought, and we decided that Melville Water was another
beautiful feature of Western Australia.

We steamed past Mount Eliza, with its beautiful terraces of flowers and
shrubs looking down upon us. The water was shining like a jewel at its
foot. After rounding Crawley Point, where the handsome residence of Sir
George Shenton stands, we soon passed into the loveliest little bay
conceivable (Freshwater), its high cliffs studded with pretty villas, and
the grand Hotel Osborne in the distance. Then on past Cottesloe, and
into the Swan river again, down past Fremantle, and across to Rottnest.
It was a most delightful trip, and I am sure the lovely Swan river is
without a peer in Australia for rowing and yachting; it is perfect.

Rottnest is an island about 7 miles long and 2½ miles broad, and the
scenery is very lovely. I do not know when I shall come to the end of all
the beautiful scenery of Westralia, as the more I travel the prettier
each place appears. The summer residence of the Governor is here, and
although not a palatial mansion, yet the situation is so exquisite and
the fishing on the island so good, that the Governor always enjoys his
time of residence there. An avenue of Morton Bay fig-trees, a mile in
length, has lately been planted on the shore of the Serpentine Lake,
near the viceregal residence. Salt lakes abound on the island. There
are chains of them, and the salt contains medicinal properties, but at
present the lakes are only utilised for the manufacture of salt. There
are some nice gardens, and agriculture is carried on by means of the
labour of the prisoners on the island, for at Rottnest is the prison
for aboriginal offenders and juvenile delinquents. There is a splendid
lighthouse on the hill, with a revolving light visible for 40 miles. A
most peculiar phenomenon appeared at Fremantle during the extreme heat of
the summer, namely, a perfect mirage, so that two Rottnests appeared, one
immediately above the other, and the lighthouse seemed to be of immense
height. Strangest of all, about half way up the double-edged island there
appeared a long line of foam, while beyond the island there seemed to be
a line of rocks—recorded by no chart—on the far-distant horizon. It was a
most uncommon sight. Rottnest has rich little valleys, and all kinds of
fruit could be grown there, for the soil is extremely fertile. There are
some very peculiar rock formations and caves, one particularly fine one
being called, after our eminent tragedian, “The Henry Irving.” No better
spot could be found for an invalid in search of health. Many people have
cause to thank the Western Australian climate for a return to health
after having been threatened with consumption. A friend of mine came
from Victoria very ill, and was thoroughly restored after a few months’
residence here. The long summer, the bright sunshine, the dry warm air
and pure atmosphere are just suited for delicate lungs. The winter is
quite invigorating, with just enough rain and cloud to give variety—the
spice of life. This colony seems to combine all the good qualities of
the famous health resorts about which we colonials hear and read so
much—Madeira, Egypt, the Riviera, &c.

After a most enjoyable day we returned to Perth in the moonlight, and
with the scent of many sweet flowers wafting from the shore, to the
steamer, arrived all too soon at the end of our charming excursion.

A very pretty drive is to Woodman’s Point, not far from Fremantle. This
is a great place for camping out and fishing at holiday times. Numbers of
tents dotted about testified to its being a favourite spot. The boys of
the Swan Orphanage are taken out every year to the seaside for a holiday,
and this year Woodman’s Point was chosen. Their happy faces and healthy
appearance told you how well they were looked after. The poor little
fellows were delighted at the sweets and cakes taken to them by several
lady visitors. Their tents were models of tidiness and comfort; the
dining-room was a floor of bushes under a big gum-tree. With the lovely
blue sky overhead, the sparkling water of the sea close by, the beautiful
view all around of ships, steamers and boats, it is an ideal place for
boys to enjoy themselves, and they appeared thoroughly to do so, playing
cricket, climbing trees, and pursuing other amusements dear to the hearts
of boyhood. Some of them sang and recited very nicely, one patriotic boy
giving “The Absent-Minded Beggar” with much enthusiasm. As we drove back
to Fremantle the harbour looked splendid. A great deal of money has been
spent by the Government to make it suitable for large vessels; at one
time no very large ship could get a safe anchorage. At an expenditure of
over a million of money, however, Fremantle Harbour has now been made
able to anchor and berth the largest vessels coming to the colony. The
trade of Western Australia is now most important, and sums up to the
big figure of £12,000,000 a year; 50,000 people travel between here and
the eastern colonies every year, and millions of pounds worth of gold
produced in the colony have been taken away by sea. The mail-steamers now
put in at Fremantle in place of Albany as heretofore, thus giving great
dissatisfaction to the Albanians. However, the change of port is not only
necessary for trade, as Fremantle is the principal port of the colony,
but will also give people travelling from the other side of the world a
better opportunity of seeing the metropolis and goldfields of Western
Australia, which they were often deterred from doing by the journey from
Albany to Perth, a distance of 338 miles, so it is an ill wind that blows
nobody good.

[Illustration: GOVERNMENT HOUSE, PERTH]




CHAPTER VIII

GUILDFORD

    Henley Park—Hunting—Mundaring Weir—Sir John Forrest—Darling
    Nurseries—Kelmscott—Armadale—Jarrahdale—Whitby
    Falls—Mandurah—Yarloop Mills—Harvey—Collie Coalfields.


One morning I drove to Guildford, 9 miles from Perth. Such a pretty
drive! The Swan river winds its way so far, and is there joined by the
Helena. The many farmhouses and crops of this fine agricultural district
impress one very favourably. About half-way there is a fine hotel and
good pleasure-grounds, called the Hotel Ascot, overlooking the river,
where much boating and fishing are enjoyed by the visitors patronising
the hotel.

Guildford is a pretty place, and, being so near Perth, is likely to
become quite an important town. There are some good residences near.
On Mr. Hammersly’s estate, called Pyrton, after the family estate in
England, is a fine house, standing amongst unrivalled scenery. The
scented foliage of the big gum-trees casts a grateful shade for the sleek
cattle, and in the sweet springtime almost every bit of ground is covered
with wild flowers of exquisite beauty. The Hon. H. J. Saunders’ estate at
Henley Park is a few miles farther on, with a very quaint-looking house
70 years old, and built of sun-dried bricks. The walls are nearly covered
with ivy, and woodbine runs over the fences. All kinds of flowers spread
their rich perfume around. The orchard is close by, the scented blossoms
of the various trees mingling their fragrance with that of the flowers.
Mr. Saunders has a large racing-stable, and takes great interest in
racing matters. The private training-track, made at great expense, is
a mile round, and looked like a smooth lawn; the stud flock of Romney
Marsh bred sheep had been feeding there for the previous few weeks. Mr.
Saunders’ racing-stables are recognised as the best in Western Australia,
and he has a small and select breeding-stud, including Leda by Trenton
and Lady Sylvia by Newminster. His racehorses are likely-looking animals,
especially Henley and Black Rock, which have some very good records. As
we drove back to Guildford the sun was just setting, and the country road
with its red soil contrasted well with the different greens of the trees
and fields, and with occasional waving crops, vineyards, and blossoming
orchards. Everything was perfectly peaceful, until, all at once, the
stillness was broken by a party of huntsmen returning from a good day’s
sport. One of them turned out to be an old friend, who told me that the
country around Guildford is excellent for hunting, and that there is a
very good hunt club. Our Australian poet, A. L. Gordon, writes:

    “Here’s a health to every sportsman,
      Be he stableman or lord;
    If his heart be true I care not
      What his pockets may afford.
    And may he ever pleasantly
      Each gallant sport pursue,
    If he takes his liquor fairly,
      And his fences fairly too.”

[Illustration: Hon. H. J. Saunders]

I put up at the Guildford Hotel for the night, and in the morning
thoroughly enjoyed the fresh fish caught for my breakfast in the river
close by. Some excitement was one day caused in quiet Guildford when,
some new works being in progress, some of the quartz boulders forming
the old foundation were dug up and carted elsewhere; a boulder fell from
the dray, and was crushed by one of the wheels; a glittering object
was noticed in the _débris_, and turned out to be gold; the quartz had
originally been taken from the Darling Ranges.

I went on to Midland Junction, 2 miles away, _en route_ to the Mundaring
Weir, from which source the much-needed river of water is to be taken
to the Coolgardie Goldfields. This gigantic scheme will cost two and
a half millions of money, but what a boon it will be to the waterless
goldfields, of which far-famed Coolgardie is perhaps the most waterless!
In spite of the croakings of those who are adverse to the scheme, Sir
John Forrest will, I am sure, be found right, and when plenty of fresh
water is obtainable at Coolgardie, so that the millions of tons of ore
waiting for treatment can be properly crushed, people will see that the
first Queen of the Goldfields is not yet dethroned.

The reservoir, where the waters of the Helena river will be stored by
hundreds of millions of gallons and then carried across the country to
the goldfields, is now in course of construction, and in two years a
river (so to say) of fresh water, yielding 5,000,000 gallons daily by
means of enormous steel pipes, 330 miles long and 30 inches in diameter,
will be flowing, and the Coolgardie housewives will be able to turn on
their taps for fresh water. A new era will then dawn for that beautiful
city, and its true prosperity begin. The sum paid yearly by the Railway
Department for water on its goldfields’ service would more than pay
interest on the cost of the scheme. The morning that I arrived at
Mundaring Weir the workmen were in a great state of excitement; their
residence blocks were being allotted. There were 130 applications, 6
of which were refused, the applicants not being considered desirable
residents. The Department will not allow an hotel to be established.
Work at the weir was progressing well. At the huge quarries masons were
working up granite into blocks. There is an almost inexhaustible deposit
of granite, and the chief engineer, Mr. C. Y. O’Connor, intends to form
the outer face of the wall with granite instead of using concrete, as is
generally done. One enormous dam, nearly finished, is to hold 10,000,000
gallons of water. The watercourse has been divested of timber, and the
appearance of the landscape thereby greatly changed. The weir, when
finished, will be 560 feet long, and will hold 4,600,000,000 gallons of
water.

[Illustration: GOVERNMENT BORE, NEAR MUNDARING]

The train that carried us back passed through miles and miles of
everlasting flowers. The ground on each side was covered with a carpet
of them. Acres first of white, then of pink, blue, yellow and purple,
charm the eye, and the kangaroo paw, standing up in its vivid hues of
crimson and green, added a still further charm to the scene. On we went
through the country robed in its spring garb of beauty, until we came to
Smith’s Mill, named after Frederick Smith, a young gentleman explorer in
1836, who died of exhaustion at this place after having shown courage and
endurance of hardship worthy of his cousin, Florence Nightingale. Here I
left the train in order to visit the Darling Nurseries, which, although
it is only seven years since they were first planted, are remarkable for
luxuriance. The trees, with their loads of fruit, were weighed down with
their own excellence. Thousands of citron-trees, 50,000 apple-trees,
peaches and nectarines in enormous quantities, plums, pears and prunes
in profusion, persimmons and other Japanese fruits were to be seen; and
as for the flowers, the scent of them was almost overpowering. The roses
were especially fine; all possible sorts seemed to be growing here.
The foliage of the English and Canadian elm-trees and poplars formed
a pleasing contrast to the forest vegetation around. It is only a few
minutes’ walk from the station to this charming place, which is but 16
miles from Perth; and any one wanting a change from the city should take
an afternoon and visit it.

Five miles from Mr. Hawter’s nursery garden is the Haughton Vineyard, now
owned by the Mundaring Wine Company. The vines grow at an altitude of
1000 feet above the sea-level. The wine is delicious. There is a notable
grape growing there called “Tarbinet Sauvignon,” from which is produced
the celebrated Lafitte claret. Mundaring seems to be a congenial home to
the vine, and its productive powers are of a high order.

Another charming place to see, 28 miles from Perth, is Kelmscott,
nestling in its bed of flowers. Everything looked delightful on the
morning that I went there. Nature never appeared more beautiful; it
seemed cruel to pluck the flowers from their beds and crush the sweet
grass with the horse’s hoofs. I felt almost like Mr. Ruskin, who was such
a passionate defender of nature that he would never pluck a flower. Two
miles from Kelmscott is another sweet little village called Armadale. I
put up at the picturesque inn and enjoyed a few days’ quiet rest among
the beautiful surroundings. The orchards, gardens, and vineyards here
are so many that it would take a whole book to describe them. Sir Arthur
Stepney and Mr. Jull own the largest properties, and have recently
equipped a vinery. Only a few years ago immense jarrah and cool white and
red gum trees stood in undisputed possession. Now fruits of all kinds
are growing in luxuriance. Oranges, lemons, and sub-tropical fruits
seem to flourish especially well. So do flowers; blue lechenaultias,
coral creeper, heaths of all colours, heliotrope, primroses, pink, and
yellow blossoms nestle in the grass. Lovely bouquets can be made from
the delicate grey smoke-flower and the pink immortelles, and will last
a long time without water. Six miles farther on we came to Jarrahdale.
As its name imports, this is the home of the jarrah-tree, and there are
large timber mills called the Jarrahdale Jarrah Mills, owned by a London
company with a capital of £300,000. This company have the advantage of
the fine harbour of Rockingham, where large ships call to convey the
timber to all parts of the world. There are five mills on this property.
I stayed at the town one night, and attended a concert got up by the
employées, which was quite enjoyable, many of them being really good
singers and dancers. There is a nice hall, built, of course, with the
handsome jarrah-wood, which polishes so beautifully that it looks like
mahogany. It never shrinks or warps, so that for a dancing-floor it
cannot be excelled. There has been a great demand from South Africa for
this wood, which is almost impervious to the ravages of time. Piles
that have been driven into the River Swan at the Causeway, and others
into the sea at Fremantle, have been taken up after 57 years and found
to be uninjured, having resisted the attacks of the sea worm. This wood
is one of the best for building purposes, for it resists the white ant
and is the least inflammable kind known; yet when burning it throws out
immense heat and makes splendid charcoal. There are many charcoal-burners
about who are making a good living. Iron bolts and nails driven into the
jarrah do not loosen from rust, and there is no doubt the jarrah is the
principal tree of the colony. It has come triumphantly through several
severe tests, and is now in great demand all over the world. The Golden
West does not depend on her mines alone, but, as Mr. Zeb Lane said last
year, “Make no mistake about it, the jarrah of Western Australia will
yet pave the streets of many of the leading cities of the world.” The
late Mr. Ednie Brown, Conservator of Forests, told me that there were
20,000,000 acres of timbered land in Western Australia valued by an
expert at £124,000,000. At present there are 50 sawmills in the colony,
employing over 4000 men, and still the demand is much greater than the
supply, so that there is a great opening for more capitalists.

Whitby Falls Lunatic Asylum is near Jarrahdale, and the poor souls who
inhabit it must, I am sure, find there a real haven of rest. The asylum
nestles in a sweet valley at the foot of the Darling Range, and the hills
make a grand background. Gardens, large fields and paddocks, with cattle
feeding, stretch all round, and close by is a magnificent orchard. Five
miles farther on are the famous Serpentine Falls, whose glittering
cascades falling among the big rocks and boulders, nearly covered with
scented foliage, then bubbling and rippling down the valley in joyous
frolic among the sweet flowers and ferns, form an idyllic picture. By
many this spot is called the “garden of the colony,” and certainly the
luxuriant ferns and flowers seemed to grow more beautiful at every step.
The blackboy and red gum trees grew more thickly than in any place I have
seen, and where those trees flourish everything seems to grow with extra
luxuriance. The blackboy is a most peculiar-looking grass tree, with a
rough thick stem and a crown of thick heavy dark green grass, looking
at a distance, especially in the twilight, like a real blackboy. The
gum from the tree is eagerly eaten by the natives and cattle. It also
exudes a resin from the stem, which is used for pitch in thatching the
native houses, or Mia-Mias, as well as for other purposes; these trees
burn brilliantly. The falls come rapidly down from the Darling Range
in picturesque cascades, falling over the crystalline rocks into pools
below, thence into the river. Twenty-six miles farther on is Pinjarrah.
To see this quiet little place now, one would not imagine that years
ago it was the scene of an immense native rising; that the soldiers and
mounted police had followed the aborigines for miles, and that here the
climax came, and hundreds of natives fell. Things are changed since those
days of bloodshed, and the few aborigines left do not seem to bear any
ill-will to the white fellow. An old native said to me: “I like white
fellow; he take all my land, but he make my house, and my big railway,
grow big corn, big potatoes; black fellow do nothing, white fellow know
everything, so white fellow do what he like—you give me sixpence?” The
black fellow always finishes up any conversation with that request.
Pinjarrah is on the Murray river, and the centre of a large agricultural
district, where plenty of splendid land is available for the selector.
Some economists say that population is pressing on the earth’s productive
powers, and that by-and-by there will be a dearth of animal food; yet
before mankind is starved out he can become vegetarian, as meat diet is
expensive compared with a vegetable one. It is said that twenty acres of
land are necessary to feed one man on meat, while the same land under
vegetable crops would support a great number. One acre of wheat will
support 42 people; one of oats, 84; of potatoes and rice, 176; so let
us not despair while the rich land is still wailing for cultivation.
Cabbages flourish exceedingly at Pinjarrah, and the climate and soil are
well adapted for English fruits. There is quite a thriving village, with
good buildings and private houses. From this place I took a drive of 14
miles through rich fruit-growing country to the charming seaside town
of Mandurah. Pears, peaches and nectarines loaded the trees, and there
is a fine fruit-preserving factory, as well as several factories for
preserving fish. The Brighton Hotel is very comfortable, and you can get
a vast amount of pleasure at this charming resort. Boating, fishing and
shooting can be indulged in to your heart’s content. I had a right merry
time; several people I knew were staying there, and I became quite an
expert at fishing. Across the ferry from the hotel is the Murray estuary,
which is really teeming with fish. The goldfields people patronise
Mandurah largely, and many huge catches of fish have been chronicled
by them on their return to the fields from their holiday. Very large
kingfish are frequently caught with hand-lines. Almost any kind of line
will do; it is amusing to see the greedy things snapping at anything you
put on the hook. I saw one caught that measured 5 feet in length and
weighed 38 lb. Black bream weighing 4 lb. are a common catch. Hosts of
crabs are about, making the fishing more exciting than ever. At one time
I thought fishing the slowest amusement in the world, but after this
experience at Mandurah I am convinced that there is some fascination in
it after all. In two days a visitor caught 17 dozen whiting, bream and
mullet. The mullet is a delicious fish, more like salmon than anything.
Some English people staying at the hotel said it was quite equal to the
English salmon. As you may imagine, plenty of well-cooked fish is always
supplied at table, and any one requiring a quiet and enjoyable rest from
city troubles cannot do better than visit Mandurah, where, in addition to
the splendid fishing, other sports can be indulged in, since plenty of
good duck, teal and snipe shooting is to be got at the lakes 5 miles out.

[Illustration: LUNATIC ASYLUM, W.A.]

Returning to Pinjarrah, I drove out to a fine orange grove. Some idea of
its character can be gained from the fact that some well-known fruiterers
of Perth bought four trees from the owner at £100 per tree, and,
after ripening and picking, made £50 profit per tree. The Drakesbrook
Experimental Government Farm is about 12 miles off, and I there saw
enormous cucumbers, pumpkins, and other vegetables.

Seven miles farther on are Millar’s Yarloop Mills. The export from these
mills is very large; 21 sailing ships and 15 steamers were employed to
take away the timber to various places last year. The settlement presents
a busy appearance. When the train stopped over 100 men came from the
mills to get their newspapers and see if there was any one they knew in
the train. I left the train and looked for an hotel to put up at, but
there is none; however, I obtained comfortable quarters at a private
house. There are several mills connected with Yarloop, among them Iron
Pot, so called from a conical hill near to it. Hoffman & Waterhouse’s
Mills are 13 miles away, and are connected by telephone with the head
mill. The office is very handsomely built of jarrah lined with polished
wood, tongued and grooved. Much of the wood of Western Australia is
suitable for small manufacturing purposes, such as making picture-frames,
walking-sticks and knife-handles, while the jam-wood, with its aromatic
perfume, is the very thing for pipe-making. I am sure a large trade could
be worked up in that business.

Some beautiful artistic work in jarrah carving has lately been done by
Mr. Howitt, of Perth, and was shown at the Paris Exhibition. One piece
especially, a font, is most exquisitely carved. Besides these jarrah
carvings, Mr. Howitt has made some panels from the following Australian
woods—karri, tuart, redgum, sandal-wood, raspberry jam, banksia, she
oak, prickly pear, York gum, blackbutt, wandoo and morrell; each of the
panels is decorated with a carving of the tree’s foliage. I also saw
at Robertson & Moffat’s furnishing warehouse, before leaving Perth, a
handsome dinner-waggon made from seventeen kinds of Western Australian
woods, with which, besides the before-mentioned woods, salmon gum,
gimblet, castor-oil, swamp gum, and curly jarrah were most artistically
introduced in the mosaic part, and with the handsomely carved typical
swan on the top made a very effective piece of furniture.

The Chamber of Commerce, Prague, Bohemia, have recently written to
Mr. Ulrich, of Fremantle, asking for specimens and samples of Western
Australian woods to be sent to that place with a view to future business;
and when the beauty and excellence of the woods become more generally
known I think they will be put to more artistic uses than wood-paving.
Outdoor enjoyments are yearly coming into more favour, and the demand for
outdoor chairs, seats, and tables must increase. The jarrah-wood never
shrinks, and being of a beautiful dark red colour does not require paint.
The timber resources of the colony are marvellous, and it is estimated
that it would take fully a century to exhaust the now matured trees,
while fresh ones would be growing all the time.

The Harvey agricultural area, 9 miles from Yarloop, comprises 43,000
acres; of this 19,803 acres have been surveyed into 155 plots. The
land is splendid for fruit and vegetables, and there are a good many
selections, 10,000 acres having already been taken up. The soil is
rather heavy, and expensive to clear and drain. The Korijekup Estate is
managed by Mr. Asche, and is well under cultivation, the oranges grown
there being especially fine. There are good paddocks for horses to run
in, and the next time our family steed is sent out to grass it will be
to Korijekup. There are about 12 homesteads on the estate, occupied
by different families. The pasture lands are very good, and the soil
well adapted for strawberry and gooseberry growing. There are about 10
acres of these delicious fruits under cultivation. The manager’s house
and men’s quarters are near the river, the latter a substantially built
structure of slabs, made 60 years ago by convict labour for Sir James
Stirling, to whom the land was originally granted (in lieu of payment
of salary). In the winter time there are a great many trappers about,
who gain a good living by trapping the native bear and opossum, for
the skins of which they get 9s. per dozen in Perth. The grey skins,
when edged with black, make beautiful rugs for a cold climate, but the
winters in Western Australia are so mild that things of that kind are
not required. In the early days the old coach-road to Perth from Bunbury
passed near Korijekup, and where there were formerly only halting-places
many flourishing farms now stand. The land about there is very suitable
for dairying, the grass being green all the year round; the soil is brown
loam, interspersed with rich black swamps, and suitable for intense
culture.

Another 15 miles brought me to Collie Station, where I took the branch
train to the Collie coalfields. Until recently these fields have been
somewhat neglected, but are now coming into great favour, the coal got
there having been proved to be of excellent quality, and now being
extensively used. The Government have decided to use it on the railways,
and many of the shipping merchants trading to different places have also
signified their intention of using it. The Smelting Works at Fremantle
are following suit; householders are consuming it largely, and I can
state from my own experience that it is excellent coal, which never goes
out, but burns to the last bit, just leaving clean brown dust behind.
It will in time be a mine of wealth to Western Australia and constitute
a great industry, making work for thousands of coal-miners, for the
deposits of coal are almost limitless. Bores have been used in different
parts of the field, and have proved the existence of enormous bodies
of coal. The Collie coal-mine has recently been bought from the Collie
Company by Mr. Zeb Lane, for the British Westralia Syndicate, and is now
called the Collie Proprietary Coalfields of Western Australia.

Collie is a very pleasant little town, with some hotels, several stores,
and many snug and pretty dwellings. One usually thinks of a coal-mining
town as an uninteresting, grimy place, but Collie is nothing of the kind.
In the midst of a magnificent jarrah forest, at an elevation of 600 feet
above sea-level, this place has, I imagine, a brilliant future before it.
The air is delightfully bracing; the sea breeze blows in from the coast,
and in the near future, when the gardens now being planted by the men on
their residential plots have come to maturity, the miners will be able,
after their work underground, to sit under their own vine or fig-tree
and enjoy the pipe of peace. This is not a mere form of words, but will
be solid fact, for the ground is so good that, beside containing coal
underneath, it will grow all kinds of products on its fertile flats and
valleys.

Many of the men are making very comfortable homes for themselves; they
can see that the field is permanent, and that they may hope to remain
here. Collie will, I predict, be in the future one of the principal towns
of the colony.




CHAPTER IX

    Bunbury—Exploring Days—The Estuary—Early Times—Whaling—Native
    murder—Mr. Layman—Retribution—Pasture Land—Robert Scott—Old
    Residents.


[Illustration: Paper Bark Tree]

Bunbury is 13 miles from Collie, and is the terminus of this line
of railway. In passing through Picton, 4 miles before you come to
Bunbury, you can see the homestead of the Forrest family. It is a
picturesque-looking old house on a little hill with a pretty brook
running below, and the surroundings are very beautiful. Mr. William
Forrest, the ex-Premier’s father, who recently passed away at the ripe
age of 80 years, arrived in this colony by the ship _Trusty_ in 1842, and
first settled at Australind. Some three years later he erected a mill
on what has since been called Mill Point, on the banks of the estuary
near Bunbury, and in 1849 removed to Picton, where he resided until
the day of his death. Mr. Forrest bore with indomitable courage many
misfortunes, such as the burning of his flour-mill, the engine and stones
of which were afterwards removed to Bunbury, and formed the nucleus of
the well-known Koombanah Mill, now owned by Mr. Robert Forrest, his
sixth son. The above-mentioned mill was the first water flour-mill in the
South-West, and was erected in 1849. Mr. Forrest dammed up the Preston
river and utilised it for the purpose of his business. You may be sure
that he was particularly proud of his explorer sons, John and Alick, and
also proud of the fact that one was Premier of the colony, and the other
Mayor of Perth. Sir John made three exploring expeditions, and it is
amusing to hear what “Tommy Pierre,” one of the natives who accompanied
him, said at the banquet held in honour of the explorers’ return to
Perth: “Well, gentlemen, I am very thankful to get back to Swan river,
Bunbury, Fremantle; I thought that we never get back again. Many a time
I go into camp, going through desert places, and say, ‘Master Forrest,
where the devil are you going to? Master Forrest, I give you one pound
to take me back.’ Master say: ‘Hush! What are you talking about? I’ll
take you right through to Adelaide,’ and I hush. I always obey him; I
only black fellow, you know, but I am all thankful; I always very glad to
see white fellow around me.” The _South Australian Register_, of August
27, 1870, says: “On Saturday morning, the band of explorers from Western
Australia, under the leadership of Mr. John Forrest, reached Adelaide.
They were escorted to Government House by a number of horsemen, and the
crowd heartily cheered them as they came up. These men are heroes in the
highest sense of the term. The expedition, as many in Western Australia
still remember, was organised through the instrumentality of Governor
Weld.” The late Premier, who a year before had piloted an expedition to
search for the remains of the explorer Leichhart, readily acquiesced in
the suggestions that were put forward by the then Governor of the colony,
and on March 30, 1870, accompanied by Mr. Alex. Forrest as second in
command; H. M’Larty, a police constable; W. H. Osborne, farrier, &c., and
two natives, he set out for Perth. The party followed the course taken
out by Eyre in 1841, but in an opposite direction, and although they did
not experience the difficulties that Eyre encountered, the troubles
were numerous enough. On March 18, 1874, Sir John Forrest led another
expedition to Adelaide. From Perth his party proceeded to Champion Bay,
and the wild, untrodden desert was safely crossed. On November 3, the
explorers reached Adelaide, and at a banquet which was given in their
honour a few days afterwards, the Premier of South Australia (the Hon.
Arthur Blyth), speaking of the leader, said: “Here we have the likeness
of a man who knew not what fear was, because he never saw fear—who
carried out the thorough principle of the Briton, in that he always
persevered to the end.”

[Illustration: LADY FORREST]

I have before me as I write a picture of Sir John as he was in 1866, 34
years ago; also a picture of the third expedition crossing the spinifex
desert; terrible country to go through. An extract from Sir John’s diary
says: “Tommy (a native) went on with the only horse not knocked up to
find water. I followed his tracks, leading the two done-up horses.
Spinifex everywhere. We can only crawl along, having to walk and drag the
horses with us.” At some places the aborigines were very troublesome,
the camp being attacked one night by 60 of them, who could not be driven
off until some of them had been shot. Sir John Forrest is a man who
has the colony’s interests at heart. By his wisdom and foresight great
tracts of land are being opened up. In his own words: “We have a great
work to do in the great continent of Australia, all of it encircled by
the sea, and flying the flag of Old England, no other nation having any
right or part in it. And what a continent it is! The Western Australian
territory is as big as France, Spain, Italy, Austria, and Germany, and
contains 973,000 miles (square). If you were to walk round it, you
would have nearly a 4000-mile walk. The Empire of Australia represents
nearly one-seventeenth part of the world’s surface. We have great works
and great responsibilities before us, and we are proud of Western
Australia. We want to be in the future one of the brightest gems in the
English Crown.” In 1890 Sir John spoke the following words into Edison’s
phonograph: “I firmly believe that Western Australia has started on
a progressive and prosperous career.” Such words bring to mind the
prophetic words of Cowper’s “Boadicea”:

    The progeny that springs from the forests of our land
    Armed with thunder, clad with wings, shall a wider world command;
    Regions Cæsar never knew thy posterity shall sway
    Where his Eagles never flew, none invincible as they.

It was in 1890 that representative government was granted to Western
Australia, and Mr. Forrest chosen as Premier. In 1891 her Majesty Queen
Victoria conferred on him the honour of knighthood, and for ten years Sir
John Forrest remained Premier of Western Australia (establishing a record
in Australia’s history), a post which he resigned in order to assume
that of Postmaster-General for Australia; but has since been appointed
Minister of Federal Defence in the Ministry of the Commonwealth of
Federated Australia. Not long before her lamented death, our late beloved
Queen was pleased to bestow on Sir John Forrest the Grand Cross of St.
Michael and St. George, he being, I believe, the first Australian born
who has received that honour.

I was quite surprised to find such a fine hotel as Gordon’s Pier in a
country town. The dinner was excellently served, the meat especially
tender, the fish sweeter, the vegetables nicer, and the fruit more juicy,
than usual. Perhaps it was because I had been roughing it a little just
before that I valued the extra comfort I obtained here. A splendid
balcony reached right round the hotel, from which was visible the
sparkling water of Koombanah Bay, with its long pier and beach of silver
sand. The lighthouse on the hill, with its square tower and grey walls,
stood like a sentinel against the sky. The light that shines out to sea
at night is 117 feet above high water, and is visible 12 miles. As it was
a hot night, most of the guests were out on the balcony. I lay back in
my comfortable lounge-chair, inhaled the health-giving sea breeze, and
thoroughly enjoyed a cup of delicious coffee brought me by the attentive
waiter. From the drawing-room, where some of the guests were passing
a pleasant half-hour, and while singing for their own pleasure, also
affording gratification to the visitors outside, came strains of music.
I retired early, and was agreeably surprised to find my bedroom lit up
with electric light. The noise from the machinery rather kept me awake at
first, but I soon passed into the land of dreams. The housemaid told me
in the morning that a great many people from the goldfields stay here in
the summer to recoup after the dryness and heat of the fields, and that
the managers of the mines usually wish to have their bedrooms on the side
near the machine-room, as the noise is home-like, or mine-like, and lulls
them off to sleep.

In the morning I took a waggonette and drove out to explore Bunbury,
going first to the Leschenault Estuary, a sheet of water divided from the
sea by a strip of land 10 or 12 miles long. The surface was dotted with
wild fowl and its depths are full of fish. The Collie and Preston rivers
fall into the estuary. On the shore there are plenty of black swans and
wild duck which seem to be quite tame. On the east side of the estuary
is the site of Australind, to which, 57 years ago, many people came
from England to settle, but finding the place was not what it had been
represented to them by unscrupulous agents, they disbanded and settled in
different parts of the colony, so that Australind now is merely a name.
It is very prettily situated at the junction of the Brunswick and Collie
rivers. There are large dykes about there not yet explored, which may
contain wonderful mineral wealth. Manna gum-trees are to be found, and
yield sometimes as much as fifty tons of gum from one tree.

Bunbury’s history dates from the first settlement of the colony, when New
South Wales sent soldiers to King George’s Sound in order to circumvent
the French, who nearly had possession of Western Australia. Governor
Stirling took up large tracts of country near Bunbury in lieu of salary,
and settlers were granted 200 and 300 acres of land as an inducement to
go there. When, 60 years ago, the intending settlers arrived and pitched
their camps, a few soldiers were stationed for their protection, but as
the natives were mostly friendly and intelligent, the soldiers had little
to do, so whiled away the time by helping the settlers, and as many hands
make light work the little community soon became prosperous.

In those days the post was sent twice a month by an aboriginal foot
postman. Sometimes he got tired of his work, and would leave the post-bag
under a tree and decamp. Then scouts had to be sent out to find the mail.
An old colonist, Mr. R. Scott, related to me many of his experiences at
that time. Mr. Scott’s father arrived in the colony in 1830, and not
liking the look of Fremantle, which was merely a sandy beach and wild
bush, with a few tents scattered about, intended returning to Scotland,
but Governor Stirling persuaded him to go to Bunbury with some other
intending settlers. The younger members of the party traversed the 115
miles on foot, the older people going in the Governor’s ship to the port.
The tramp was a long one, and young Scott’s clothes were so tattered
when he arrived that he would not go out to speak to the Governor, but
hid behind a tree. He was, however, persuaded to show himself, and the
Governor, seeing the poor boy in such a plight, sent to the vessel for a
suit of his own clothes and a cap, no others being available. By cutting
off portions and tucking in other parts the boy was made presentable. Mr.
Scott’s mother, who died some years ago, aged 88, kept those clothes with
great pride until the day of her death.

Whaling was a local industry in those days. Mr. Scott and his brother had
several whaling-boats, and sometimes took as much as 90 tons of whale-oil
to Fremantle. An American vessel went ashore at that time, and the
enterprising captain, being stranded, took up a piece of land and started
a garden, which he fenced in with the staves of olive barrels.

The only native murder at Bunbury was perpetrated in 1840, Mr. Layman,
a settler at Wanerup, being the victim. He was speared by the king of
the black tribe then at Wanerup, about 6 miles from Busselton. This
booka (king) came to Mr. Layman’s camp when a native boy, servant to
Mr. Layman, was packing up his damper (a kind of large colonial scone
cooked in ashes) to take with him as rations when he was going out with
sheep. The booka took the damper from the boy, and throwing him a small
piece, was going off with the rest. Mr. Layman came up and saw this, and
taking the booka by the beard forced him to give up the damper. This was
evidently too much indignity for him, and when Mr. Layman turned his back
he speared and killed him, then immediately made off into the bush. The
settlers, about twenty in number, determined to follow and execute him,
but found many difficulties in the way, as none of the natives would lead
them to his tracks. They, however, tracked him as well as they could, and
to frighten the tribe they shot down every native they came across. This
put such fear into them that an old man called Crocodile was induced to
show them the way, and they then tracked the murderer to the Capel river,
to a hollow tree, whence it was some time before he could be dislodged.
When this was effected he was found to be well armed with spears ready
to fight. He was, however, summarily shot by Corporal Gill, and his
head carried back on a pole to the Vasse (now called Busselton). Since
then the only known murder by natives was that of Mrs. McGowan, who was
speared by a half-witted native. The shooting of the blacks, although it
seems cruel, was the means of showing them that the white man was their
master, and after this no more trouble arose with the various tribes. Had
it not been done the tables would have been turned, and all the white
settlers might have been murdered.

The natives are divided into four families or tribes—the Ballarook,
Deduruk, Donderup, and Gnakerunk. Consequently, if you want to find
out what tribe a certain native belongs to you must say to him: “You
Ballarook?” If he does not belong to that tribe he will say: “No, me
Donderup.” They are all brothers and sisters in each tribe, and bound
to protect one another. When civilised they make fairly good servants,
but never quite lose their wild instincts; and when they have a holiday,
which they frequently take of their own free will, away they go to their
tribe, and revel in free life until they tire and once more long for the
flesh-pots of civilisation, when they again return to their work.

[Illustration: BUNBURY]

Thousands of acres of land are available here for purchase. The Mangles
Estate has lately been opened up for settlement on very easy terms.
Potatoes, onions and other vegetables grow most luxuriantly. The pastoral
and agricultural land is very rich, and as many as three crops a year
are sometimes taken off the same land by Mr. Clarke, who has a farm near
Bunbury. The forest lands around abound with splendid jarrah and other
timber. The harbour is very safe and partially protected by a coral reef.
There are many handsome residences. The Hon. Charles Spencer has a large
house on a hill in the most beautiful position in Bunbury, and there are
some splendid vineyards, the soil being specially good for vine culture.

The town has 1200 inhabitants and the district about 3000. It is very
prosperous, and has many fine public buildings; some of the early
settlers who went through so many rough times are now in the enjoyment of
comfortable homes, and passing peacefully down the vale of life. There
is an exceptionally fine post-office, standing near the spot where the
barracks were erected for the soldiers in the long-ago days. The hospital
is an imposing building, on an elevation commanding a fine view of the
bay, and has very pretty grounds. It would be by no means intolerable to
be ill in this lovely seaside resort, but, as a rule, people who come
to Bunbury get well, not ill. The walking, driving, boating, fishing,
bathing and shooting excursions that are the order of the day give one
no time to think of being ill. Cycling is a favourite pastime, and there
is a very good club. The streets are wide and planted with shady trees.
The Preston river runs into the estuary, its banks are loaded with bright
flowers, and the golden sunshine shining through the trees, the blue
water and the massive breakwater in the distance make beautiful Bunbury
look like a bit of Paradise.




[Illustration: Blackwood River]




CHAPTER X

    Dardanup Park—Donnybrook—Bridgetown—The Grange—Dallgarrup—A
    Prodigious Prize—Greenbushes—Tinfield—The Great Forest.


The Hon. H. W. Venn has a splendid estate called Dardanup Park, 10
miles from Bunbury. The dwelling-house is built in old English style
and surrounded by a garden, where all kinds of beautiful flowers grow
in profusion. There is an enormous shed, capable of holding large
quantities of hay. The dairy cows, standing knee-deep in pasture, are
specially sleek and fat; the milk and cream that I tasted at Dardanup
seemed exceptionally sweet. I went for a six-mile drive to the Ferguson
river, passing many pretty farms, nearly all on Mr. Venn’s land. One
goes for miles down a narrow road like an English lane, except that the
hedges are formed of the beautiful Australian wattle in place of English
hawthorn. The grand Australian trees, red gum and jarrah (some of immense
size), the pretty banksia, the delicate paper-tree, the coral creeper,
which, as its name implies, is of the colour of pink coral, and in some
instances, had embraced the banksia-trees and mingled lovingly with their
broad green leaves, all combined to make a pretty picture. A little Roman
Catholic church and, farther on, a Protestant one, gave token that the
spiritual welfare of the people at Dardanup is well looked after. It is
singular how many native names end with “up.” On to the road to Bunbury
there is a station called Wagerup. An old settler in the district was
not satisfied with that name, and wrote to Mr. Venn, the member for
the district, to say that he was an old settler of 30 or 40 years, and
thought he ought to have a say in the naming of the railway station.
Being a loyal Englishman, he wished it to be called Queen Victoria
Station. I am sorry to say his request has not yet been acceded to.
Another loyal subject at another railway station, where there are about
two other dwellings, has recently built a bush public-house, and outside
is printed, in large letters, “The Palace Hotel.”

Mr. Venn is very much liked by all the farming community. I overheard a
controversy on politics at the dinner-table between several farmers, and
they were unanimous in their opinion that Mr. Venn was the man for them,
and for the country.

Beyond lies Donnybrook, not the great Irish fair of that name, but a
fertile spot of Western Australia. A mile before arriving there we
stopped at Baxter & Prince’s siding, 2½ miles from which are their
well-known sawmills, in which are employed a large number of workmen.
There are some fine farms at Donnybrook, and the estate of the Hon.
J. W. Hackett, with its orchards and gardens, is half a mile from the
station. In these gardens all kinds of fruits, especially raspberries and
strawberries, grow in luxuriance.

On account of the marvellous fertility of the ground there are a great
many applications from people wishing to establish themselves on the
land here, and take up small plots for fruit growing. Two miles out of
Donnybrook is a goldfield, which may some day turn out to be immensely
rich. Gold was first discovered in the surface soil by some men searching
for the alluvial deposit. Further investigations with the miner’s
faithful prospecting-dish eventually led to the discovery of quartz
veins. There are several shafts sunk now to a great depth, all of which
have yielded a profit. Perhaps a new Coolgardie will one day spring into
existence here.

Mr. Maryanski, the well-known mining expert, is largely interested, has
purchased property here, and has now gone to Europe for the purpose of
floating companies.

To drive up the Preston Valley from Donnybrook in the lovely weather was
pleasant. The roads were certainly not all that could be desired, but the
forest scenery compensated for a little jolting, and the more one travels
in the West the more is one convinced of the resources of the colony. The
soil is a rich chocolate loam, and grass and water plentiful all the year
round. Hay is principally cultivated here, as a great quantity of chaff
is required for the horses at the mills in the district.

On my return to Donnybrook, rather tired with my day’s excursion, I
retired early, and after a refreshing night’s rest started for Bridgetown
in the morning. The line has only recently been completed, and was
formally opened on December 2, 1898. It must have been pretty hard work
to make this railway, for the various cuttings are in some parts so deep
that 40 or 50 kegs of powder per day were often used in blasting the
hard rock. There are 178 cuttings and 204 embankments on the line of
only 42 miles, so no wonder it cost the Government a considerable sum
of money. Donnybrook is 208 feet above the sea-level, but Needes Hill,
7 miles farther on, is 770 feet above. After that the road drops down
again to 400 feet, then it rises again to an altitude of 1000 feet, and
at this point comes within 10 miles of the now well-known Greenbushes
Tinfield (of which more anon). A further depression of this elevation
brings it to Hester’s Brook, and then a further rise ascends to Dalgarup
Station, landing at an elevation of more than 1000 feet, whence the line
drops again to Bridgetown, only 510 feet high in the clouds. I quickly
made my way to Warner’s Hotel, and after an excellent dinner proceeded
to investigate Bridgetown and the Blackwood river. The orchards around
this district appeared to be very fine. Sir James Lee Steere, the member
for the district, gives a handsome silver cup every year as a trophy at
the annual show for the best-kept orchard. This has been now won three
years in succession by the Messrs. Allnutt, the Grange. Their orchard
covers an area of 30 acres. Mr. Allnutt, the father of the present owner,
planted this fine orchard 30 years ago. One can imagine what a wilderness
the place must have been then, and what perseverance has been practised
to achieve such a successful issue. The latest development is a steam
sawmill on the property for the purpose of cutting up timber and making
boxes for packing the fruit in. Every kind of fruit one can think of
is here. As well as fruit, magnificent potatoes are grown, and often
yield 15 tons to the acre. Now that the railway touches the place, the
inhabitants say that this will be the chief agricultural centre of the
south-west district. The people seemed so genial that it was really a
pleasure to converse with them.

A very beautiful drive through richly wooded hills, the tender green
grass of which was dotted here and there by clusters of trees and covered
by the perfumed golden wattle and by many spring wild flowers—appearing
between an occasional field of newly growing wheat—brought me to
Dallgarrup, the homestead of Mr. Godfrey Hester, who has over 7000
acres of land altogether. I found this gentleman engaged in skinning
and dressing a sheep; he had taken on a Chinese cook, and all the other
hands, objecting to the introduction of Chinese labour, had left in a
body. Consequently Mr. Hester had to turn to and do the work himself.

About a mile farther on is Blackwood Park, Mr. Gerald Hester’s homestead,
with an orchard of 23 acres, 6 of which bear most lovely apples. There
are 2000 acres, and many cattle and sheep. The house is an old-fashioned
one, having been built 50 years ago for Mr. Hester’s father, who was
the oldest settler on the Blackwood river, and came out 52 years ago
He was the first Stipendiary Magistrate in the district. The house is
in a charming spot, and many handsome willows grow about the running
brook close by. The largest grape-vine I have ever seen is here. Mr.
Hester told me it was planted 40 years ago by his mother. The height of
this marvellous vine is 7 feet to the first branch. There are 6 enormous
branches measuring 8 inches round and averaging 100 feet long. The body
of the vine is 50 inches round. A very large trellis, which from time
to time has been added to, now takes up 39 feet of ground in length by
54 feet in width. The kind of arbour thus formed maybe imagined. 2064
bunches of magnificent black Hamburg grapes, weighing over a ton, came
off this vine last year, which I am sure breaks the record of production
of one vine in any of the colonies.

The drive from Bridgetown to Greenbushes Tinfield through forest country
is most enjoyable. This tinfield has of late been richly developed. Until
recently it was not thought much of, gold-mining having deadened all
other kinds of mining in the colony. Now, however, things have taken a
turn, and quite a large settlement has sprung up, and over 2000 men are
on the field. A good town has been formed where three months before was a
dense forest, and solitude reigned supreme. Jarrah growing on the spot,
and two timber-mills being close by, nearly all the houses are built of
the handsome dark wood, are thus much more pleasing than the usual tents
and camps of mining places, and stand out well against the tall green
forest trees. People have built very nice houses, evidently having an eye
to solid comfort, and thinking the field a permanent one.

The town of Greenbushes is one long street or avenue. On either side
tower the enormous forest trees. The ring of the axe and the crash of
some of these falling giants, together with the immense fires burning
day and night for the purpose of getting out the tremendous stumps
of the trees; the energy of the people, and the numbers of visitors
constantly arriving to see the field, make Greenbushes a lively place.
The town seems to have sprung up by magic; there are 30 stores of all
descriptions, 3 hotels, the Court House Hotel being a very comfortable
one, post and telegraph offices, warden’s court, and other public
buildings.

Miles and miles of the country contain rich tin. The tinfields are on
the highest point of the Darling Range, 1100 feet above sea-level. The
gullies and watercourses are very picturesque being in the heart of the
green forest. I drove down to Spring Gully, where the men were all at
work in their claims, and the various workings were most interesting.
Dumpling Gully is the name of another part of the field.

There have been some rich finds. The Cornwall Mine, on the highest point,
has been proved to carry 13½ per cent. of lode tin. Another lode tin mine
is the Yarana, which has given good results. The lode in this mine is
similar to that found in Cornwall, England, being associated with quartz,
schist and kaolin. Tin ore is most peculiar-looking stuff. Some lumps
of it that are called “nuggets of wood tin,” weigh 30 lb. each; another
kind is like fine sand, and another like gunpowder, and the colours range
from white to red, yellow, ruby, black, grey and brown. Some of the men
have sold their claims to the syndicates for £4000 and £5000, and gone
on their way rejoicing. I was surprised to find plenty of horses and
cabs at Greenbushes; these are, no doubt, accounted for by the distance
of the town—three miles—from the railway station, which I passed going
to Bridgetown. The cabbies were doing a roaring trade, and the whole
community seemed very well satisfied with things in general. Gold has
also been found at a depth of 33 feet, the reef being nearly 8 inches
wide, and comprised of quartz; the formation enclosing it contains free
tin worth about 3 ounces to the dish.




CHAPTER XI

    Busselton—Napoleon’s Grave—Cattle Chosen—“All
    aboard”—Karridale—Touring the Forest—King Karri—The Sand Patch.


Starting from Greenbushes railway station, I made my return journey as
far as Boyanup Junction, where I changed trains for Busselton, or, to
call it by its first name, “The Vasse.” This was one of the earliest
settlements of the colony, and is one of the most picturesque. It has
a beautiful bay, which, like Bunbury, was at one time a great whaling
place. There are about 30 fishermen there, and most of the fish caught
is sent every day by the Perth Ice Company to the metropolis. The bay is
nearly always calm, and English people say that it resembles Bournemouth
in old England. The lovely beach, with its hard white sand, is a
favourite place for cycling.

In the afternoon I sallied forth to inspect the beauties of this place
and was quite delighted with this ideal town. Everything is sweet and
clean; the grass and the trees seemed to me to have a more tender green
than in other places. The beautiful sky, with white fleecy clouds, was
reflected in the sparkling sea; dear little boats were dancing on the
water, and at the jetty, which is a mile long, two ships were moored,
while another had just spread its white wings to fly to fresh seas. It
was a perfect afternoon for fishing, which accounted for the number of
fishing-boats out.

The morning sun shining in all its glory awoke me early. I strolled down
to the pier, and met some boys coming along laden with fish that they had
just caught. I wanted to buy some, but the boys would not hear of that,
and presented me with two for my breakfast, which I took to the hotel to
be cooked, and no fish, I think, ever tasted sweeter.

Looking one way from the top of the lighthouse at the end of the jetty
one saw an exquisite carpet of green stretching for miles, white houses
nestling in shrubberies near the winding river, and sleek cows in the
pasture, nearly up to their knees in the waving grass; out at sea the
fishing-boats were dancing on the waves; a big steamer in the distance
was on its way to the East; a white-winged ship was just disappearing
from sight on the horizon; and all these, with flocks of birds soaring
across the sky, formed a picture pleasant enough to charm any eye.

There are some remarkably fine old houses about Busselton; Fairlawn, the
old Residency, for one. The immense China tree in front of the house was
a favourite spot with the late Colonel Molloy, when resident magistrate.
Under its shade he sat many a time transacting the business of the
Residency, and soldiers of the Queen have often passed beneath its shady
branches. Colonel Molloy was with Sir John Moore’s army, and also fought
under Wellington at Waterloo. A magnificent willow-tree, planted by the
Colonel in 1862, a few years before his death, from a slip growing over
Napoleon’s grave at St. Helena, is now 12 feet in circumference. I asked
for a slip as a memento, and it was graciously given to me. Fairlawn
now belongs to Mr. R. Gale, who has a nice dairy, with all the latest
improvements, stables and stockyards. As much as 380 lb. of butter,
from 60 cows, is made weekly by the Laval cream separator, worked by
horse-power. This part of the beautiful country is so noted for its fine
milch-cows that there would be great scope for a large butter factory,
since real nice country butter is seldom to be obtained in Perth at any
price; and I am sure housekeepers would hail the advent of fresh pats of
butter from the country with delight.

Mulberry-trees were loaded with their luscious fruit, and the bees
were hovering around and sipping the sweets from them. Honey is very
plentiful. In some orchards at Busselton there are as many as 130 hives,
yielding four tons of the sweet commodity.

Mr. J. Bussell’s estate has a singular name, “Cattle Chosen,” and it
was a strange chance that named it so. Mr. Bussell, the oldest settler
in these parts, had taken up land at Augusta, nearer the coast, but was
not entirely pleased with the place, and while driving some cattle to
the Swan Settlement lost one of his cows. On his return journey he saw
cattle-tracks, and following them up found not only the lost cow, but a
beautiful calf also, on the richest pasture he had seen. Considering the
circumstance as an omen of good luck, and delighted with the locality,
he applied to have his grant, 6000 acres, transferred to the Vasse, and
named the place “Cattle Chosen.” The town was afterwards called Busselton
out of respect to his name.

The homestead of Cattle Chosen is a pleasant place. Willows grow over the
pretty brooks and white bridges. An avenue of palm-trees leading to the
house, and an old cannon in the garden in front of it, add romance to the
scene. I was shown some marvellous ears of wheat grown by Mr. Tanner near
here, 12 inches long by 8 inches round; also cabbages 12 lb. in weight.
Tomatoes grow by the ton, and as to potatoes, 11 tons have been taken off
one patch of two acres. There is some swamp land near Busselton which it
is said would produce as many potatoes as the whole of Ireland.

In Mr. Pries’ orchard apples and pears load the trees so heavily—some of
the trees yielding 16 cases of fruit each—that the boughs actually break
beneath the weight. Wax models of some of the pears grown here are to
be seen at the office of the Agricultural Bureau, St. George’s Terrace,
Perth.

The children on the beach and in the flowery meadows seemed to revel in
their play, and their healthy faces and merry laughter proclaimed that
doctors were not required. No wonder they looked so well, with such a
beautiful place to live in! The summer temperature is never over 100°,
and the winters are mild. With the ample supply of milk, butter, eggs,
fruit, and other good things, the lives of these children are cast in a
pleasant place.

Mr. Locke, the member for the district, has a great racing-stable at
Lockville, and several horses are training for the coming races. I
admired the beautiful creatures very much. Several of them have already
won important races. Mr. Locke has also many dogs, which have taken
prizes at various shows; he is further well known as one of the best
judges of horseflesh in the colony, and the breeding of bloodstock is
carried on extensively on his estate.

The recreation-ground is a very level ground of 20 acres, and sport of
all kind is carried on there. Near the fine new bridge is the pretty
English church, covered with ivy, with the peaceful God’s Acre adjoining
it. St. Mary’s Catholic Church, served by that genial and benevolent
parish priest, Father Tracey, is near. Busselton, in addition to its
agricultural capabilities, offers a good opening for the timber business,
and one gentleman, Mr. Porritt, late of Queensland, who has settled
there, with the intention of developing this trade, has obtained a lease
of the Ballarat tramline, and purchased two sawmills, as well as taking
up 60,000 acres of forest land. Employment will thus be given to a great
many men, so emigrants will be welcome.

Tin has been found close to Busselton, at Quindalup, and as water is
plentiful close by, profit to the district is likely to arise from the
discovery.

The morning sun was shining in all its splendour over the fair River
Vasse when the driver of the four-in-hand mail-coach cried, “All aboard!”
I climbed to the box-seat, and with a crack of the driver’s whip off we
went. The day was beautiful; the air was exhilarating, and after the
50-mile journey to Karridale I felt inclined for a good dinner. Luckily
I had supplied myself with sandwiches and sherry, or should not have
fared too well. As the journey is nearly all through the bush, one must
not expect to find luxuries in the way of provisions. The scenery and
country we passed through satisfied my eye and soul, but after four hours
in the coach I began to feel that the cravings of the material inner
woman required satisfying also, and was very glad of the little basket
that had been prepared for me. The peppermint-trees growing by the road
are very pretty. These graceful trees grow in thickets, are very shady,
and give a pungent scent. We passed many homesteads on our way, and right
in the middle of the forest a large brick building loomed up. I thought
at first it was a church, but found it was the Newtown Agricultural
Hall. There are no people living about it now, but I suppose there will
be a settlement some day, and Newtown is evidently taking time by the
forelock. When I saw the first karri-tree I was surprised. Without doubt
it is the handsomest kind of tree in the colony. It over-tops all the
other trees, towering to the sky, with delicate feathery leaves, and the
huge trunk, as straight as a mast, is covered by white smooth bark. Some
of these trees are known to reach great heights—as much, indeed, as 400
feet. Captain Pemberton Walcott is stated to have measured one whose
circumference was 60 feet. I did not see any quite as large as that, but
they certainly looked gigantic.

On approaching Karridale we passed the racecourse and cricket-ground,
where several lads were at play. This spot is singularly picturesque,
and the district is one of the oldest in the colony. (Augusta, where
the trees grow to 400 feet high, is 11 miles from Karridale, and is the
site of one of the earliest settlements in 1826, but it has never been a
favourite place, and has been abandoned several times.) The magnificent
forest trees await the woodman’s axe; life and industry are everywhere;
the people are like busy bees. I was agreeably surprised to find such a
large township. It is a regular little colony of itself, right away in
one corner of the continent of which we are so justly proud.

[Illustration: DAVIES’ KARRIDALE TIMBER STATION]

Karridale is the headquarters of Mr. Davies’ Karri and Jarrah Mill
Company, and 18 years ago was an impenetrable forest. Mr. Davies has
42,000 acres leased from the Government for 42 years from 1882, and the
mill was started in that year amid many difficulties that have been
overcome only by much perseverance. To-day the settlement is a credit to
Mr. Davies and to the colony, and there is a population of 800 persons
dependent on the estate for their living. There is a good post-office,
through which last year the sum of £2340 was remitted; 3700 telegrams
were sent, and 15,000 letters were posted; all the result of the energy
and enterprise of the gentleman above mentioned, who is assisted by his
handsome sons. The Government now derives a revenue of £5000 per year
from this district. Many of the employées have pretty gardens by their
cottages, which are dotted about the bush in most picturesque fashion.
The single men have rows of cottages to themselves, and there is a large
dining-room built for their use, presided over by a good housekeeper,
and as house-rent is free, and there are no rates or taxes to pay, this
seems to me to be a paradise for the working community. Any article
that a civilised being requires is obtainable here; you might almost
say, from a needle to an anchor. A large store adjoins the office, and
although it is a private agency, settlers in the district also can get
their supplies there. There is a nice hall for entertainments, which are
often got up by the people, and a ball is one of the frequent recreations
in the winter-time. A handsome little church has just been built, which
we observed when coming into the settlement. Moreover, there is the
unusual institution of a hospital for horses, of which there are 200
in the place. A hospital for the people is being built, but everybody
looks so very healthy that I think it will be almost a superfluity. Two
market-gardens and orchards give one an idea of the splendid productivity
of the soil. Ten tons of potatoes per acre, and apple-trees that yield
seven cases each, are quite usual. There is plenty of good grass, and
the bullocks of the estate, 300 in number, live entirely on it, without
artificial food, which means a large saving, and they look splendidly
fat and strong. Mr. Davies was the first man to introduce karri timber
into the markets of the world, and now the company send supplies of it
through England, China, Egypt, India, South Africa, Mauritius, and all
the eastern colonies. Melbourne has patronised karri timber largely.
For wood-blocks it has great strength, and has been proved by British
Admiralty tests to be equal to English oak. The floors of the art gallery
and museum in Melbourne are laid with karri-wood, and in London, Pall
Mall, Piccadilly, and Regent Street have lately been paved with karri
blocks. A log cut over 40 years ago was presented by Mr. Davies to the
Kew Museum. It had been in the ocean 30 years, and is now as good as when
first cut. Karri-wood has the further advantage of not being slippery,
a very essential point in wood-blocks. The karri is an exceptionally
quick-growing tree, and when the matured trees are cut down the young
trees shoot up at once. All the latest improvements are to be found at
Karridale, electric lighting and a telephone service running to the port
and to the lighthouse at Cape Leeuwin. Mr. Davies has a very handsome
house, built in bungalow style.

[Illustration: Felling the Giant Karri]

Taking a seat one morning, by invitation, in the inspection-car, with
its comfortable seats, I started for a tour through the forest to the
adjoining mills at Baranup, where a great many men are employed, and
where there is another little place, more evidences of happiness and
prosperity, and more little cottages nestling among the trees. In
the butcher’s shop I saw an enormous block, the complete section of
a tremendous tree. Seeing a strange lady on the car, the men looked
somewhat surprised, but quite pleased. I wished to see the felling of one
of the kings of the forest, upon which four men were then engaged, two
at each end of the cross-saw. It takes six to fell one of these giants,
and when it is coming down one needs to stand “off the grass,” as the
saying is. When felled, the tree is marked off into certain lengths and
severed into so many logs, then numbers of horses and bullocks appear on
the scene and drag the logs to the nearest landing, then they are put
into the truck and borne off to the mill. At Baranup I was to see the
King Karri that I had heard about before coming, and now, when I saw it,
I was satisfied that, although not yet 400 feet high, it is a king of the
forest; indeed, this giant tree is the largest on indisputable record
in Western Australia. It stands in its great majesty in one of the most
picturesque spots of the colony. Its gnarled and weather-beaten roots of
immense size show that it must be of great age. Its dimensions were given
to me by Mr. Davies, and are as follows:

    Girth 4 ft. above ground     30 ft. 8 in.
      ”   6 ft. 2 in. ”          28 ft. 1 in.
      ” 132 ft. 6 in. ”          20 ft. 7 in.
    Height to top of branches   342 ft. 0 in.
        ”     first fork        146 ft. 0 in.

This tree would make 146 loads of timber and cut up into 3000 sleepers,
enough to lay a mile and a half of railway. Around here are many more
tremendous giant trees awaiting the woodman’s axe. The demand for Western
Australia hardwood is now far greater than the mills can at present
supply.

[Illustration: THE SAND PATCH]

Hamelin Harbour was another surprise. Next morning I proceeded on an
excursion to that place, the train taking a quantity of wood-blocks for
Melbourne streets. A mile and a half on our journey we arrived at the top
of Hamelin Hill. A perfect panorama lay around us; the forest was at our
back, while in front lay the Southern Ocean in all its grandeur, with
little bays and headlands falling into its depths. The pier at Hamelin
Bay, which is seen in the distance, a mile and a half off, is 1800 feet
long. As we approached the bay, the homes of the people employed there
and a charming little lake at the bottom of the valley, with Mr. Davies
yacht and several pretty boats lying at rest on its placid bosom, added
fresh charm to the scene. Arrived at Hamelin Bay, I took a walk down the
long jetty, and the salt seabreeze from both Indian and Southern Oceans
fanned my cheeks with a breath so fresh and bracing that I almost felt as
if I had wings to my feet. Two large vessels were being loaded; the men
seemed to be vying with each other in the effort to do the most work. Two
very large and rather dangerous-looking rocks are not far off the jetty.
I think one is called Mushroom Rock, and certainly it looks more like a
huge mushroom than anything else but a rock. The other is Peak Rock. At
one of the cottages the wife of one of the men was most hospitable, and
made me a nice cup of tea and some toast, which I enjoyed after my early
morning’s start.

On my return to Karridale, having some time to spare, I drove out about
a mile to see the Sand Patch, which is a most peculiar place. It is a
tremendous sandhill 100 feet high, a few miles from the sea, and has
slowly moved inland a few inches every year. Tops of trees may be seen
over the summit, looking like bushes. It is 2 miles wide, and can be seen
a long way off at sea. Many sea-captains take their bearings from it. An
attempt has been made to arrest its march by planting 70,000 grass roots
in the direction it takes, so as to stop its advance, but whether the
attempt will succeed will only be proved by time.




CHAPTER XII

    Deepdene Caves—Margaret Caves—A Welcome Lunch—Cape Leeuwin.


The Deepdene Caves were my next place of call, Mr. Bruce kindly driving a
party of us to them, and explaining everything to us in a most agreeable
fashion. I enjoyed the drive so much that I was almost sorry to arrive.
The approach to the caves is through a deep dell, where there is a brook,
called Turner’s Brook. A very quaint old house stood on a slope, and
the high cliffs in the distance looked picturesque. But I could see no
sign of a cave, and when we came to a stop I was still looking for one.
However, Mr. Bruce soon stopped the trap, and we got out and were guided
by him through some dense bush up the hill until we came to a yawning
gulf, like a gigantic chasm. I own to feeling a desire to turn back,
without seeing the caves at all, so forbidding did the approach look,
but pride came to the rescue. It would never do to say I was afraid,
so assuming a valour, though I had it not, I followed my guides, who
had now lit candles and also armed themselves with bundles of blackboy
rushes. We entered the cavern, and I found the chasm not so terrible as
I had anticipated. The first large gallery once had a number of fine
stalactites, but some vandals have torn them away. The path now became
very steep, and I had to cling to jutting stalactites. It was very dark,
the candles had gone out, and the vapours we breathed were not exactly
refreshing; but I had to go on—on—on. I was not sorry when my friends
set light to the friendly blackboys and lightened the darkness. We were
now in a splendid hall, roofed with icicles. There was an almost perfect
opera-box, with lace curtains, carved arm-rest, pillars, and everything
complete. The ground sounded rather hollow; I did not feel comfortable,
so we moved on to another vast cavern, called the King’s Council Chamber.
It was a grand sight. The light, of course, was imperfect, as the cave
is of enormous size, fully 100 feet high. The stalactites hang from the
domed roof like huge crystal lights, and shadows play about the walls,
which look as if festooned with lovely lace. Great seats seem to fill the
cavern in the middle. One could almost imagine a king and queen holding
court there, with all their attendants, and being suddenly turned to
marble. It was all very grand, but I felt glad when I was out in God’s
sunshine again, with the blue sky over my head and the blue sea at my
feet. Darkness and gloom, however grand, do not forcibly appeal to me.

Various other beautiful caves have been discovered comparatively
recently, and named the Margaret Caves, in compliment to Lady Forrest.

No beaver ever made a more artful concealment of the entrance to his nest
than the lip of the Wallcliffe Cave. Part some peppermints, push aside
the flowing fronds of ferns and bend low, almost on all-fours, creep
slowly for 30 feet, eyes bent to ground, and then, what a transformation
scene! The fairy grotto of a pantomime, the lustrous lair of the King of
Jewels in the Arabian Nights—these are the only similes that give even a
prosaic idea of it. A circular chamber, richly bedecked by gleaming white
stalactites, with mammoth bunches of grapes, fleecy wefts apparently as
soft as lambs-wool, but solid as marble, and—upspringing from the floor
of the chamber, as if greedy to clutch the fruit, yet frozen in making
the grasp—a monstrous hand several feet long—these are just hints of what
we see.

[Illustration: A WESTERN AUSTRALIAN CAVE]

The Warrawerrie or Blackboy Hollow Cave is about 2 miles south of
Wallcliffe, and is a mantrap for the unwary, for if you fall in instead
of using the ladder that the discoverer (Mr. John Bussell) made in order
to sound his find, and was thoughtful enough to leave behind him, you
drop 15 feet. This vertical hole will not take in any one of very round
proportions. So rough and high are the boulders that we scrambled over
on the floor of this cave by the dim, flickering light of a candle,
that we called it “Spion Kop.” It was more than worth the scramble,
however. There is another chamber of this cave that has never been
entered. A broken column, apparently cut from Italian marble, as pure
as alabaster, would make a noble monument for a patriot. There are also
semi-transparent shields which look like snow-white tapestry from an
Indian loom, but which touch shows to be hard as flint.

While all the caves we saw are worth many times the journey, the most
beautiful is, in my opinion, that known as Doodjijup, a mile south of
Blackboy Hollow, and 100 feet above the slanderously entitled “Devil’s
Pool.” A lady could go through this cave without soiling her dress. You
enter this lovely “bower” from the side of a high limestone ridge and the
commanding situation allows a pretty prospect of water and lea, with the
shimmering streak of the Doodjijup brook in the foreground. The access
to the cave is rather steep and somewhat rugged, but when once the inlet
is gained the labour is rewarded, and the visitor can move at ease and
admire the terraces, the columns like the pipes of a cathedral organ, and
the pendants that glow like the stars of night in the three chambers of
this wondrous arcade.

Nearly 3 miles south there is a descent of about 100 feet, first through
an enormous pit like the excavation of a quarry, and then by the side
of a limestone cliff, when the “door” of Calgadup Cave is disclosed.
The floor of this cave is moist enough to show that it is the bed of a
subterranean creek; it is about 70 feet across. The chamber sides are
hung with many stalactites of myriad shapes and colours under the rays
of our artificial light. What would be taken in a lady’s boudoir for a
very beautiful opera-cloak of swansdown thrown over the top of a low
pillar stands out in the foreground. This is a stalagmite “growing”
upwards, while the stalactite is formed downwards like the tendrils or
fruit of a vine. Here, too, in my opinion, is the gem of all the caves,
the suspended dome, the delicate tracery of whose splendid and fantastic
fretwork hangs in mid-air, held by almost gossamer crystalline threads.

A running stream which flows over the bed of Crystal Cave, half a mile
south of Nannup Caves, gives it its name. This cave, of sandstone
formation, is almost a ruin owing to the ravages of marauders and the
falling of karri timber overhead, which have wrought havoc among its
former grandeur. Ascending some 50 or 60 feet another vast chamber is
entered; the dome-shaped roof that is set off by colonnades is cracked,
and to all appearance unsafe. Already this season, although there are
few facilities for visiting the caves or for enjoying the fishing and
shooting of Hardy’s Inlet in the cool climate by the seaside, about 70
goldfield visitors have equipped themselves at special expense for the
tour, which, I understand, they found highly beneficial, interesting and
enjoyable.

From the caves we returned to Karridale, and during the pleasant drive
I somewhat recovered from the fatigue of so much cave clambering. The
next morning early I was fortunate in getting a seat in a buggy to Cape
Leeuwin, the first Australian land sighted by mail-boats coming from
England, and the last seen by those that leave for the dear homeland.
I was anxious to see this place and to go up the famous lighthouse.
So off we went, bidding a regretful farewell to the hospitable people
of Karridale. We had a drive of 16 miles before us, but I am never so
happy as when seated behind a good pair of horses and spinning merrily
along. I feel sure that, though thousands of people have seen the cape
and lighthouse from the sea, very few have been so fortunate as I was
in being able to visit it by land. So I felt particularly well pleased
with myself and my trip through the west that day. As we drove along
for 7 miles nothing particular was to be seen, except perhaps that the
forest vegetation seemed to grow more luxuriantly than ever, and in
greater variety; I noticed several kind of trees that I had not seen in
other parts. Then we got occasional gleams of water shining through the
foliage, and the hills around loomed in grandeur to the sky. The trees
seemed to become smaller as we went along; that was because we were
near the coast. A few miles farther on a pretty house on the banks of a
lovely broad sheet of water, the Blackwood estuary, came into view. A
lady, seeing us driving along, came out to meet us, and cordially invited
us into the house to partake of refreshments in the shape of fruit and
fresh milk with hot scones, which had just been baked for the family
lunch, and of which we had arrived in time to partake. The horses were
glad of a little breathing-time, during which I looked round at the scene
before me. Over the broad sheet of placid water wild ducks and swans were
dotted. A fisherman had just come up with a haul of fish, the finest
whiting I have seen for some time, and a tremendous schnapper. In the
distance could be seen the white sandy bar, with its long white breakers
stretching out into the depths of the ocean beyond. What an ideal spot
for a sportsman, a convalescent, or a pair of honeymooners, so quiet,
so peaceful, so beautiful! Mr. Ellis has lived in this place for years,
and will tell you how, 50 years ago, food was almost unobtainable, and
American whalers were looked to for nearly all supplies. It is most
interesting to talk to this gentleman. Governor Broome, Governor Weld,
and Sir Gerard Smith (the late Governor), have visited this place, and
enjoyed Mr. Ellis’s hospitality. We soon passed through the old and once
ill-fated settlement of Augusta, and I wondered why fate was so unkind
to such a charming spot, especially as there is such a natural harbour
as Flinders Bay close by. On we went and reached Point Matthew. Now we
were near the corner where two great oceans meet. On we drove to the
edge of the peninsula and soon arrived at Cape Leeuwin, and its fine
lighthouse. In 1867 the coast east of Cape Leeuwin was called Nuyts Land
from a passenger on board the _Guilde Zeepart_, or Good Shepherd, on her
voyage to Japan. Cape Leeuwin, or Lioness, was so named in 1822, after
the vessel from which it was first seen, or, as others say, because the
cape standing at the corner of the two oceans, with the breakers dashing
round, seemed like a lioness defending her home. Be this as it may, I
came here, and was delighted. Years ago, during a heavy storm, I was a
passenger in a sailing barque loaded with pearl shell that was blown out
to sea 600 miles beyond Cape Leeuwin, but we safely weathered the storm
and I live to tell the tale. Since that time I have always had strong
recollections of this particular cape.

As we drove up the lighthouse stood before us like a sentinel guarding
the seas. We were now on that corner of our continent where the Indian
and Southern Oceans meet. Right on the southern point at the foot of the
high bare hills, and 700 feet above the sea, stands the white lighthouse
and its shining dome, the building of which was an event of national
importance. It was a solemn and magnificent sight. To-day the sea was
beautifully calm, but sometimes the breakers roar and lash the strong
lighthouse in their fury; then mariners have to beware of the Lioness
and to keep at a safe and civil distance. The base is 70 feet above
high water-mark, the foundations are deep down to bed rock, 23 feet.
The building was erected by Messrs. Davies and Wishart, and cost £6000,
exclusive of the dome and light. The handsome white stone of which it
is built was all quarried half a mile away. The walls are 7 feet in
thickness on the ground-floor. To get to the top we had to mount a spiral
iron staircase, broken at intervals by 7 floors. These breaks give one
time to breathe and comment on the peculiar sensation of mounting to
the top of a lighthouse; strange it is certainly, but I would not on
any account have missed it. A heavy iron column goes down the centre to
hold the chain and the three-quarters of a ton weight propelling the
clockwork that causes the light to revolve. It takes 7 gallons of oil
each night to keep this burning. Mr. Tattersall, the head keeper, was
most attentive and kind in explaining all this to me. On the fifth floor
is the telephone connected with the men’s quarters and with the Karridale
Post Office, from which all messages are forwarded by telegraph. Here
also observations are taken every two hours and recorded. Down the wall
there is a lightning conductor. The lighting apparatus is on the sixth
floor, and is a wonderful piece of mechanical work. The operative power
is clockwork, and the light reflected is equal to 250,000 candles. The
flash is sighted fully 30 miles out from land on a clear night. Are
not the improvements in lighthouses since the days when little Grace
Darling stood on her bible to reach the lamp that lighted the shipwrecked
mariners to safety truly wonderful?

[Illustration: LIGHTHOUSE (OLD AND NEW)]

I must confess to feeling very giddy in the head when I stepped on the
balcony outside the dome, but it was the grandest sight of my tour. On
the north side was Hamelin Bay, on the east the mouth of the beautiful
Blackwood, and the many little islands, reefs and rocks, lying at our
feet; also Cumberland Island; while away on the land side stretches the
vast forest with its millions of giant trees, combining to form a picture
not easily forgotten.

The lighthouse-keepers, of whom there are six, work four hours each and
are then relieved. They report every ship that passes, and wind up the
clockwork weights every hour. Coming down to _terra firma_ again, and
before leaving this grand piece of man’s work, I read the following
inscription on a huge block of stone: “Foundation-stone laid by Sir John
Forrest, Premier of the Colony, 13th December 1895.” And on the other
side: “Dedicated to the World’s Mariners, 10th December 1896.”

Outside are some comfortable-looking stone cottages, where the
lighthouse-keepers live. My only feeling of regret as I left was that
Leeuwin Lighthouse is not more accessible, so that many people could take
the same enjoyable tour that I had taken; but time may change even this
cape’s inaccessibility.




CHAPTER XIII

    Pretty Newcastle—Oranges!—New Norcia—Native Love—The
    Mission—Northam—The Grand Old Man—Ploughing Match—Oat Crop—The
    Show.


There is without doubt a great field in Western Australia for workers
who will settle on the land and cultivate it. Newcastle is a little
town, nestling at the foot of hills and beautifully situated near the
Avon river. It is a splendid farming district; the soil will grow almost
everything. I saw some magnificent oranges and vegetables. The cattle are
as fat and sleek as can be. Rain had been falling when I was there, and
now the sun was shining and a beautiful rainbow rose over the hills. The
pink everlasting flowers—acres of them—surrounded by the green grass, the
pretty winding river, the white bridges and long good roads made up a
very pleasant picture. There is plenty of good land around here waiting
to be taken up and utilised. Newcastle is one of the oldest Westralian
towns, and the roads and bridges were nearly all made by convict labour
in days gone by. There is a great quantity of stone lying about, and
granite is obtainable in large quantities a little way off. There are
vineyards and orchards, and an elderly woman at the Clackline Junction
Station seemed to be doing a good trade with an enormous basket of
splendid oranges and bunches of pink everlasting flowers. She came across
the meadows and joined the train at Delmore on the way to Newcastle a boy
helping her with the big basket of oranges just gathered from the trees.
She told me she came to meet all the trains and invariably did good
business.

[Illustration: NEWCASTLE]

Gold was found about here in 1887 by Mr. Glass, of Mugakine, who found a
piece weighing 11 grains while digging a well. The ground about the hills
is very rocky, but the flats are fertile and favourable for fruit-trees
and vines, and there is plenty of water in ponds; Mr. Clarkson, in the
early days, found sandstone ranges rising 1000 feet; small rivers fall
between these ranges into the sea.

New Norcia, the Benedictine’s Mission settlement, is situated on the
Victoria plains, about 50 miles from Newcastle by road, and 80 miles to
the north of Perth. You can also go to New Norcia by taking the train
to Mogumbur on the Cue line, and thence driving 15 miles to New Norcia.
Here the late good Bishop Salvado, laboured amongst the aboriginals for
over half a century, and died at over 85. The religious community numbers
about 60 monks, most of whom are Spanish. The Abbey is called Abbey
Nullias, and there are a cruciform church of stone, a monastery, and 51
other buildings. Over 1000 acres of land are cleared and fenced, 800 are
under cultivation, and 150 aboriginals are clothed and educated by the
monks. The object of these good men of the Mission is to civilise and
christianise the natives. Bishop Salvado describes his first interview
with the aboriginals thus: “I tried to begin a conversation by signs
with these poor Australians, so hideous to view, though mild and almost
timid; but all that they would say was ‘Maragna’ (food).” In 1846, Father
Salvado and Father Serra, with a few catechists, were guided by some
natives to the site which is now called New Norcia. Fifty acres of land
had been granted them by the Colonial Government, and thus was laid the
foundation of this now well-known and flourishing settlement. In 1848
the first R.C. Bishop of Perth, Dr. Brady, sent Father Serra to Europe
to obtain subscriptions and more missionaries for New Norcia, and 1250
acres of land were purchased by him with the collections obtained in this
way from Europe. In 1849 Father Salvado went to Europe, taking with him
two native Christian boys. There he collected large sums of money, and on
his return a number of missionaries, competent in agriculture and trade,
returned with him, thus giving new life to the Mission, where they built
a chapel, cottages, corn and granary mills, wooden houses, workshops,
and quarters for natives. The land was soon cleared by these good and
energetic men, assisted by the aborigines whom they had befriended, and
to-day one can look around the Mission and see happiness, prosperity, and
contentment on all sides. All the aborigines now there are civilised,
but, for years before they became so, they looked on the Bishop as a god
who possessed superhuman knowledge, especially in doctoring the sick. One
native whom he had relieved leaped and danced, and shouted war-cries,
and said: “Father, when you die I shall be so sorry that I shall kill,
not only one man of the enemy’s tribe, but six kangaroo-hunters, to show
everybody the love I have for you.” Many years have passed away, and
if you now visit New Norcia you will see 1000 acres of fields, stocked
with sheep and cattle; a most prosperous agricultural settlement; corn
in abundance; barley, hay, vegetables, tobacco, and acres of vineyard,
from which a wine, said by those who have sampled it to be excellent, is
made. Fine olives are grown; olive oil, pure and clear, is made; candied
almonds, figs, raisins, grapes, and apples are in profusion. The Bishop’s
only luxury was snuff, grown at the Mission, which is very aromatic and
provocative of much sneezing. Almost everything required and used is
made and produced on the spot. The aborigines learn quickly and are most
devout Christians. The Mission has a brass band of natives, who have been
well trained, and their efforts are most pleasing.

Bishop Salvado was in Perth a few months ago, and received a warm welcome
from all creeds and classes; he was then on his way to Rome, in which
city he recently passed away.

Progressive Northam, the gateway of the goldfields, in the lovely Avon
Valley, was the scene of my next visit. The green undulating fields
through which I passed in the train on my approach to Northam showed a
perfect blaze of wild flowers in every spot where there was room for
them to spring between the well-cultivated farm lands. The rich soil
of this beautiful valley is quite different from the deep sandy soil
near the coast, or from the loam and ironstone of the ranges of the
Darling. Quantities of water are always obtainable by shallow sinking,
should other supplies fail. The fat cattle always seem to be waiting
to accumulate wealth for their owners, and the comfortable-looking
farmhouses impress one with the idea of solid comfort within. Northam
has a population of 2000 people, is increasing fast, and prospering more
than any other agricultural district in Western Australia; and being the
starting-point of the Yilgarn, Coolgardie, Kalgoorlie, Mount Malcolm and
Mount Margaret goldfields, is really the threshold of the fields, as well
as the great centre of the agricultural industry in this part of the
colony.

A large staff of railway men is employed in the locomotive department,
over 400 men being paid every fortnight at Northam. The railway platform
is half a mile long, and I believe a magnificent railway station will
shortly further improve the town.

Northam has gone ahead with gigantic strides. On my first visit, a little
over two years ago, it was a very small place indeed, in fact two places,
as I found to my sorrow when I got out of the train at the wrong station
(there are both East and West Northam) and had to walk a mile and a half
up a desolate country road to get to my destination. Now houses, shops,
banks, &c., are built nearly all along that road, and omnibuses ply from
one end of the town to the other. Northam bids fair to become one of the
most important towns in Western Australia.

There are some charming estates about here, notably that of the Hon.
George Throssell, late Commissioner of Crown Lands, and now Premier
since Sir John Forrest relinquished office. Mr. Throssell might almost
be described as the father of Northam. He has resided in what he so
poetically describes as his lovely valley home for 36 years, and it is
chiefly due to his strenuous exertions, the devotion of his energies to
its development, and his manly spirit of help to all, that Northam is
what it is to-day. Mr. Throssell goes home to Northam after his week’s
official work every Friday and remains until Tuesday in the company
of his wife and numerous and happy family of sons, daughters, and
grandchildren. This grand old man has a large and important business in
Northam in conjunction with Mr. Stewart, and branches in different parts
of the colony as well. The machinery stores are well worth inspection.
Every possible kind of English and American machinery for tilling the
soil is here to be seen. The drill and fertiliser now coming into use
make farming a pastime and pleasure, instead of the weariness and hard
work of past ages. With these new implements of agriculture, 600 acres of
land can be drilled with only 20 lb. of wheat to the acre, in place of 75
lb., as in olden days.

Many new implements were going out to the Jenapullen ploughing-match,
a few miles away, for trial that day; so, availing myself of the offer
of a drive there, I started off to see this match. The pastoral country
appeared very thriving as we drove along by the beautiful River Avon, and
the richness of the soil gave ample promise of the harvest to come. Bush
flowers were growing all round, native grasses were flourishing in wild
luxuriance, healthy green crops were waving in the gentle breeze, giving
promise of a most abundant yield and adding beauty to the surrounding
scene.

On arrival at the ploughing-field, I found many kinds of entertainments
going on as well as the ploughing, which I was sure was very splendid,
although I did not understand the art. There was a fine collection of
vegetables, bread, butter, fruit, and many other things; also some very
splendid horses, bred in the district. After the ploughing-match was
over, the folks amused themselves with jumping, running, and pony races.
Every one looked prosperous, happy and contented, and no doubt was so,
for there are many well established farmers in this fertile district, who
long ago secured for themselves a position of independence.

[Illustration: AVON RIVER]

What a future lies before this wheat-growing district! One of the most
prominent townsmen of Northam says that more wheat has been produced
there than in any other part of the colony. Many farmers are also
thinking of raising pigs, to be turned into the toothsome bacon. Mr.
Throssell told me that there are big openings for bacon-curing, as the
quantity of bacon and ham imported to Western Australia last year was
very large.

The Department of Agriculture is doing good work, and experts are sent
out into the different farming districts to teach the benefits of mixed
farming to persons not already acquainted with them, and any one who
wants advice on the management of vineyards, orchards and farms can, by
writing to the Department, have an expert sent at once.

There is also scope for the establishment of a butter and cheese factory
here. This valley of the Avon is an ideal spot for a large dairy, and
might have thousands of sleek cows grazing on the rich pastures, and
hundreds of rosy-cheeked dairymaids turning sweet cream into butter and
cheese for the dusty goldseekers.

Northam has a fine town hall, some handsome churches, a convent,
magnificent post-office, and many beautiful mansions and villas standing
in fine grounds with nice gardens. Many of the favourite English flowers
flourish here. Roses, honeysuckle, geraniums, and mignonette grow very
fine in this soil, and the flowers indigenous to the colony bloom in
sweet and infinite variety. The splendour of Western Australian flowers
cannot be imagined by those who have not seen it. Their dainty delicate
odours are unsurpassable, and if people in other lands only knew of our
glorious wealth of flowers, I am sure they would be anxious to obtain
seeds and cultivate the lovely blossoms.

Coming from one of the splendid homesteads around Northam, I passed a
wheatfield in the valley that extended farther than my eye could reach.
Oats grow to perfection. One farmer in the valley, who has a field of 90
acres, last year harvested as much as 36 bushels to the acre; barley is
also grown with great success.

Our young country has a chance of great and lasting prosperity for
population increases and new people settle on the rich lands to cultivate
them. Mr. Throssell says: “We look forward to seeing our harbour filled
with ships laden with not only gold, timber, pearl shell and wool
products of the colony, but also with golden grain, wine and fruit.” Our
Agent-General in London, Sir E. Wittenoom, recently said at a dinner in
Paris: “There is something fascinating in the phenomena of the rise of
this new colony of Western Australia, which 10 years ago, with an area
equal to nearly half that of Europe, had only the population of the Isle
of Man. Gold reefs were discovered, and the population advanced with
great strides in less than 4 years from 50,000 to 186,000.”




[Illustration: Camel Water Train going to Coolgardie]




CHAPTER XIV

    Southern Cross—Early Discoveries of Gold—Heavy Tramps—Walking
    on Gold—Bayley’s Reward—Fabulous Finds—The Potato
    Ground—Bayley’s Death—The 90-Mile—The Treasure House—Great
    Boulder Find—The Londonderry.


Lake Polaris, or Southern Cross, was so called by the Phœnix party of
prospectors, who, owing to an accidental discovery of gold by Mr. Ansty
at Mugakine in 1887, determined thoroughly to prospect the country from
Newcastle and the Yilgarn hills. Their first discovery of payable reefs
was named Golden Valley, and, as would be supposed from the name, the
reefs were rich. Travelling by night, guided by the Southern Cross, the
party went on, and 30 miles farther on found reefs still richer on the
site of what is now called Southern Cross. Two of the prospectors were
eventually lost in the Bush, and their mates, taking a black fellow for
tracking, followed their tracks, mostly in circles, for 30 miles, and at
last found the two poor fellows dead, doubtless from thirst, as they were
without clothing, which is always a sign of that terrible death.

Southern Cross was destined to become in a short time a most important
place in Australian history, although it did not become the talk of the
world, as Coolgardie afterwards did. It was from Southern Cross that the
news of the magnificent discovery of Bayley’s Reward and the other rich
finds at Coolgardie came. From the time when Mr. Colreavy, of the Phœnix
party, first found Golden Valley until now, the finds of gold on the
Coolgardie goldfields have been without parallel in Australian history.
Fraser’s Mine, Southern Cross, paid the first dividend received from any
mine in Western Australia. Captain Oats, one of the most genial men in
the West, is the legal manager for Fraser’s Mine.

When the train came to a stop on our arrival at the Cross, as it is now
usually called, I must confess that I was not much attracted by the
appearance of the place, for anything more dreary-looking one could not
well see. Imagine a sandy desert, with here and there a stunted-looking
tree, a string of camels, with Afghan guides, some bare-looking houses,
and a few mines with poppet-heads standing out like crosses against the
sky. That is Southern Cross. The train stops at 7 A.M. for 40 minutes for
breakfast, and, after travelling from five o’clock the previous night,
one feels inclined for hot coffee at least. I hurried across to the
hotel, and after partaking of a really excellent breakfast, felt a little
more friendly to the place, and had my luggage taken off the train with
the intention of stopping here a day to make inquiries. After a two-hours
rest I started off to see Fraser’s Mine, and then found that I had to
walk half a mile in order to reach the town, the part where the hotel is
being only the railway portion of it. Across flat uninteresting ground
affording very scanty herbage to a few grazing goats, I came at last to
the town proper, which is one fairly long street and two cross ones, of
little houses and shops. I here presented my letter of introduction to
the mayor, who, with his wife, was most hospitable; and, in fact, I found
that, in spite of the dreary-looking surroundings, Southern Cross was
not a bad place after all, and that there were a great many nice genial
people living there. Fraser’s Mine is another two miles on. Nothing
much is to be seen, but close to the mine is a small empty house. It
is the house formerly inhabited by the notorious Deeming (who murdered
and cemented three wives and four children), in which he had stored
the cement in readiness for a new grave for his next wife when he was
stopped by his arrest. I looked inside with a kind of morbid interest,
remembering well the stir there was in Melbourne at the time when this
terrible man committed his last awful crime.

When one thinks of the hardships people had to endure when gold was
first discovered in this desert, and when water was scarce and food
still more so, one feels that they deserved all the money and gold they
got.[2] It then took four days to get to the Cross from York and Northam,
and the Bush roads were terrible. One party of fifty Victorian miners
started from Albany on foot, on what was known as Holland’s Track, and
after undergoing terrible privations, 35 of them reached the Cross in
safety. Holland’s Track is so called from the following circumstances:
John Holland and party set out from Brown Hill, 103 miles from Albany,
to reach Coolgardie _viâ_ Southern Cross, the distance being nearly 350
miles. They paid £50 for three horses and a conveyance. Their road was
through an almost impenetrable bush. Holland’s way of finding the road
was to ride ahead, the team having instructions to follow his tracks. He
then made observations from the highest points, and was enabled to judge
many miles ahead the nature of the country before him and the probable
whereabouts of water. In this respect he was singularly successful. He
would then take his bearings, retrace his tracks, and lead the team
in as direct a line as possible to the place. The length of the track
cut was 230 miles. The greatest portion of this was through country
unexplored, and 130 miles were traversed without encountering tracks of
any description, save that of an occasional emu. There were many high
granite rocks in the country, one of such height and extent—200 feet—that
they named it King Rock. On investigation a splendid supply of water was
found on the top of this, and at the base there is a salt-water lake 2
miles in circumference.

Another party started overland from Adelaide to the Western Australian
goldfields, and went through hardships that can be better imagined than
described. The course taken was from Port Augusta along the west coast to
Israelite Bay, thence to Fraser Range and Southern Cross. The track ran
through dense forests and sand plains, where little exists save stunted
herbage, which not even a camel could eat, every bush on these plains
being armed with thorns. The party camped about 6 miles from Southern
Cross on the only decent patch of pasture for 100 miles.

A Bendigo miner, with his party, started from Narrogin, beyond Broome
Hill, for Southern Cross. After going 15 miles they got bogged twice
on the road, the horses being in the bog to their knees and the dray
to the axle. The second time the men had to carry all their things on
their backs. Next day they had to cut away with an axe big trees that
had fallen across the track. Another day they camped 100 miles from the
Cross, and on getting up early found the horses gone. After a long search
of 15 miles, during which time they had nothing to eat, they finally
found them. Next day the party set out again, and after 25 miles the axle
broke and the dray became a total wreck; they then waited coming events,
and luckily a teamster came along and took some of their things. The rest
they had to leave behind. They arrived at Southern Cross after three
weeks travelling.

[Illustration: TEAMS RETURNED TO SOUTHERN CROSS FROM COOLGARDIE]

These are a few of the experiences of the early days of the Golden West.
After such experiences Southern Cross, no doubt, seemed an oasis in the
desert. Who will say these poor men did not deserve success? I truly hope
they got it. It was five years after the discovery of Southern Cross that
Coolgardie was discovered by Arthur Bayley, who had formerly been working
at the Cross, but afterwards went to Nannine and took 1000 ounces of
gold from a claim there; then returned to the Southern Cross in 1892,
started from that place prospecting, eventually finding Coolgardie.

People who were here in 1892 tell me that when the news came of Bayley’s
find the excitement was indescribable. Southern Cross was almost
deserted. Coolgardie lies about 120 miles from the Cross, and along the
track were to be seen men in scores, using every means of locomotion
conceivable. Some were lucky enough to get teamsters to carry their
swags; others had to carry them on their backs; others, again, had
pack-horses; some had what is called a “one-wheeler” cart. The wheel is
fixed underneath, in the centre is a frame or miniature platform, on
which the goods and swags are placed; four men take hold, one at each
corner, and a start is made. One enterprising man pushed in front of him
an ordinary beer cask, which he had rigged up to resemble a miniature
road-roller. His goods were on top and he was in the shafts. Other
adventurous spirits had their goods in wheelbarrows, which they drove
through the heavy sand. Camels sometimes crossed as much as 22 miles of
sand plain at a stretch, getting one meal at the end. As pack-camels only
travel at the rate of 2½ miles an hour, such a journey would occupy the
whole of the daylight, then the Afghan drivers would let the camels lie
down until the moon rose; then on again in search of food, until at 7 in
the morning perhaps they were lucky enough to find some salt-bush on the
shores of a salt lake.

At the stores at Southern Cross in those days you would see all sorts and
conditions of men coming for their provisions. New chums with white soft
hands would sometimes appear on their way to the goldfields. Those poor
hands would look very different after their owners had put in a month on
the burning sands of the mines.

The railway to Coolgardie from Southern Cross was begun in 1894 and
opened soon afterwards.

[Illustration: Bakery and Miners’ Camp, Southern Cross]

It was with feelings of curiosity that I viewed the desert-looking
country as the train approached the world-famed place. It is nearly
always in waste, arid, and uninteresting places that gold is found. As
the train drew up at the spacious station and I stepped out on to the
wide platforms, where some hundreds of people were waiting, I looked
round me and said to myself: “Am I really at the famous Coolgardie at
last, the Queen Gold City of the West?” I took a cab—dozens of them were
waiting—and drove to Summers’ Hotel, where apartments had been reserved
for me, and with a sigh of contentment gave myself up to the thought of
thoroughly inspecting this famed place. After a very good dinner, with
white-waistcoated waiters in attendance, and with every elegance and
comfort that could be suggested, I took my coffee on the broad balcony
overlooking Bayley Street. I found several people who were here in the
early days, and who gave me all the information I desired about the past
and the present. The first thing that struck me in Coolgardie was, “What
a splendid lot of men there are here!” They were, indeed, unusually tall,
stalwart, and good-looking. And why not? The pick of the Australian
colonies, the flower of our manhood, were here seeking for gold. Next
I was struck by the fine wide streets, lit with electric light, the
handsome buildings, and, lastly, the beautiful horses to be seen in cabs
or carts, or ridden by horsemen. It is wonderful to view this city of
the Golden West which was so recently a desert of sand, mulga-trees,
and scrub, where an occasional emu or kangaroo was monarch of all he
surveyed; where Sir John Forrest and his party of explorers twice camped,
little dreaming of the wealth of gold lying beneath their feet.

The facts about the finding of Coolgardie are thus given in Mr. Bayley’s
own narrative: “One morning before breakfast, while going after horses,
I picked up a nugget weighing half an ounce, and before dinner found 20
more ounces in the same way. We had left Southern Cross three months
previously, prospecting, in consequence of the report of Mr. Hardman, the
Government geologist, who had issued a map showing the places where gold
was most likely to be found, and had not found any gold of consequence
until now. The spot where we made the first find was about 200 miles from
the present Reward Claim. In about a month, by specking and a little dry
blowing, our gold consisted of about 200 ounces. Our rations ran out and
we made tracks to Southern Cross, but went back to the old workings, and
on Sunday afternoon, while fossiking around, we struck the reef. That
evening we picked up about 50 ounces of gold, and on Monday we pegged out
a prospecting area on the reef. That morning a party of three men came on
the scene. They had followed us from Southern Cross. That day we obtained
300 ounces from the cap of the reef. The party who had followed us stole
about 200 ounces from our claim, so we had to report it. For that purpose
I went into the Cross, carrying 554 ounces, which I showed to the Warden.
The field was then declared open. After another two days we collected
another lot of gold, amounting to 528 ounces. I conveyed them to Southern
Cross, and a fortnight after returning to the field had to make another
trip there, escorting 642 ounces. All we found was right on the surface,
and all we did was to knock the stuff out and dolly it with a pestle
and mortar. There were six cartloads of tailings left. After the gold
referred to had been extracted from the quantity of stuff, we obtained a
further amount of 298 ounces. We got a little over 2000 ounces altogether
out of the claim. We only had a five-acre lease of the Reward Claim.”

The news of the unprecedented richness of Bayley’s Find had long ere
this found its way over the entire world. Shortly after the goldfield
was proclaimed, and when the enormous richness of Bayley’s Reward Claim
was flashed all over the Australian continent, Mr. Sylvester Browne, of
Melbourne, a brother to Mr. T. Browne (better known as Rolf Boldrewood,
author of the famous Australian book, “Robbery under Arms”), travelled
to Coolgardie and, after making an examination of the property, bought
the Reward Claim from Bayley and Ford for £6000 and a sixth share in the
mine. The bargain completed, Mr. Sylvester Browne and some three or four
other gentlemen (mostly connections of his) set to work with their own
hands, and with no other tools but picks, shovels, hammers, and an iron
dolly, extracted the enormous quantity of 9000 ounces, or £36,000 worth
of gold, in a few weeks. On April 8, 1893, a parcel of 2500 ounces, worth
£10,000, arrived in Perth, and was lodged in the Union Bank. Then, on
June 7, 3185 ounces more were received by this bank and exhibited, and
on September 6 a third lot of 3605 ounces were deposited by Mr. Everard
Browne on behalf of Bayley’s Reward Company, and, finally, during the
Christmas holidays, a trophy, valued at £30,000, was gazed upon by
admiring crowds at the office of the bank. The trophy is a stirring
sight. It consists of 7000 ounces of smelted gold and 600 or 700 ounces
of rich quartz specimens, and everybody, from the Governor downwards, has
been to see it. This gold was taken from a depth of only 40 feet, while
some of the biggest nuggets at Ballarat, Victoria, were found more than
1000 feet below the surface. It is now placed beyond all doubt that our
golden reefs are what is termed “permanent,” a fact which pessimists,
both in and out of the colony, have until now been loath to admit.

[Illustration: BAYLEY’S REWARD MINE—UNDERLAY SHAFT]

Facts are stubborn things, and an ounce of experience is worth a ton of
theory. Here was a mine which in a few months yielded over,£80,000. The
following is an extract from a Perth newspaper:—

“The cry from Coolgardie is still of astounding discoveries of such rich
gold-bearing rock as mankind has never known before. There is actually
being exhibited at Counsel’s Stores a lump of gold and stone weighing a
little over two hundredweight, in which, it was estimated by experts,
there was nearly a hundredweight and a half of the precious metal. It
looks as if the time were within reasonable distance when _Punch’s_ old
prophecy would be realised, and the Cheapside hawkers be seen going about
with gold snuff-boxes and a ha’porth of snuff for a penny.”

One of the prospectors wrote thus: “I left the field at the end of
January last, when things were at their earliest stage, and even then
phenomenal finds were of daily occurrence. I remember one evening
particularly when the whole camp was thrown into a furore of excitement
owing to three men coming in with a gunny sack full of quartz some 60 lb.
in weight (I saw and handled the stone myself), and before the evening
they had dollied 150 ounces from it. At Adams’ Reef, 25 miles north of
Bayley’s, I saw tons of stone on which the gold was sticking in small
nuggets. There was one place we christened the Potato Ground, owing to
the large size of the nuggets picked up there.

“On Sundays, by way of rest, picks and shovels were abandoned, and almost
every one in the camp went out for an afternoon’s specking (looking on
the ground for nuggets). Before leaving Coolgardie I had the pleasure of
seeing over Bayley’s Reef. I shall never forget the sight; it settled my
career, and I do not think I shall ever follow any avocation but that
of a miner; for there on this reef, instead of, as one usually sees in
an ordinarily rich reef, specks and perhaps here and there nuggets of
gold—on Bayley’s there were veins, in fact, literally outstanding bars of
gold. So much so that if Mr. Bayley had given me leave to do an hour’s
work on it and take the results, my trip to the old country and back to
Western Australia would have cost me nothing, and I warrant I could have
had a pretty good time too.”

Arthur Bayley did not live long to enjoy the wealth he acquired through
his discovery, as he died at Melbourne in 1897, at the early age of
34 years. Gold-mining will trouble him no more. The handsome city of
Coolgardie remains a monument to his memory.

Many other reefs had by this time been discovered by various parties at
different distances from Coolgardie, one notably big and rich one at the
90-Mile, called the “Roaring Gimlet.” No stores or provisions lay that
way, consequently great privations had to be endured. However, those who
managed to remain got surprisingly rich stone on the surface. Here the
quartz was quite white and barren looking, but, on sinking, rich alluvial
gold was found at the rate of 250 ounces to the ton. Half-way to the
90-Mile, at what they call the 45-Mile, surprisingly rich results were
also obtained.

The camp at Bayley’s was at this time a scene of intense excitement; 3000
men were on the field. Such a collection of habitations was never before
seen—blanket-shelters, bush-humpies, and tents covered the ground; men
were digging, specking, dry blowing, and knapping every bit of available
quartz. Then provisions and water got scarce; famine was feared, and many
of the miners had to move on. “Water, water, everywhere, but not a drop
to drink.” Many a poor parched prospector on the weary tramp has said
this, and many explorers in this vast country have given the same cry. No
water—this is the terror of the Australian desert, more deadly than wild
beasts or savages in other countries. As the dragon in olden days guarded
the gate of the Hesperides wherein grew the golden apples, so thirst,
famine and fever seemed at first to guard Nature’s treasure-house.
Civilisation and engineering have now greatly diminished these terrors,
and in the new Eldorado large cities have arisen where once was an
inhospitable desert.

The marvellous City of Kalgoorlie stands on the site of Hannan’s Find.

Twelve months after the finding of Coolgardie an important discovery
was made 24 miles away in a north-easterly direction. About 150 miners
had set out to search for some lost prospectors near Yerilla. They were
compelled by lack of water to halt, and actually camped on the spot
where the find was afterwards made! Rain fell and the main body went
forward and continued their search, but two of the party, named Hannan
and Harrigan, remained, and stumbled on what has since proved to be the
richest field the world has ever known. They had begun specking, and
obtained nearly 100 ounces in a few days. As gold is worth nearly £4 per
ounce, that was good work. They returned to Coolgardie, reported the
find, and secured an area equal to 10 alluvial claims. Nearly 2000 men
followed them on their return to the find, most of whom remained there.
It would be impossible to tell in words the value and marvellous richness
of this new Eldorado. Nine thousand ounces of gold were taken from 4 tons
of stone at Hannan’s mine, and other claims of 50 feet square yielded 400
and 500 ounces of gold each. Some of the prospectors were new chums, and
had never been on a goldfield before. One who knew nothing of mining sunk
his shaft by sheer luck fair on the gold. Hundreds of practical diggers
had walked over the ground before, little thinking that the ironstone
gravel was so rich in the precious metal and that they were passing over
thousands of ounces. Another man dollied (that is, crushed by hand labour
with a heavy weight) 650 ounces in three weeks, the only implements
being half a bottle of quicksilver and the head of a pick. Many a time
these prospectors of the gold country have felt that a spring of fresh
water and a few loaves of bread would be more welcome to them than all
the gleaming gold they were getting. Under what trials did they work! No
water to wash the dirt, and yet the ground so moist that they had to dry
the dirt before they could blow it to find the gold; yet they persevered,
and many found fortunes by hard work and persistence. No wonder many
miners say that gold-mining is not so easy as falling off a log.

An Adelaide syndicate at this time sent Messrs. W. G. Brookman and
Pearce, with a capital of only £150, out of which passages, camels, and
rations had to be found, to prospect around this marvellous new find,
which they did with such success that they discovered a still more
wonderful place 3 miles from Hannan’s Find, and now called the Boulder.
Their find has since proved the greatest of all. The first claim was
called the Great Boulder, and the property included two ironstone hills,
one 100 yards long by 50 feet wide; the other twice that size. These
hills were covered with rich stones, the prospectors picking them up from
all parts, and Mr. Pearce picked up several large slugs (nuggets) at the
foot of the hill. They afterwards took up several more claims, and soon
found these to contain enormous gold-bearing reefs. Messrs. Brookman and
Pearce, by keeping to the old adage, that “a still tongue makes a wise
head,” remained undisturbed, and were able to take up all the ground they
wanted. Lake View Consols, Ivanhoe Associated, and other rich mines were
taken up by this little syndicate, and are now valued at £21,000,000. Mr.
Brookman, as you may suppose, is now one of the millionaires of Western
Australia.

The next great find was the Londonderry, in May 1894, when thousands of
ounces were dollied out from the surface. Lord Fingall bought out the
claim for an interest and £180,000 cash. Then followed the Wealth of
Nations, from whose first find was taken an enormous quantity of gold
and specimens worth £20,000. This claim was soon bought up for £150,000.
The inevitable rush to both these places followed. The men all seemed
to run mad in their thirst for gold. It was at this time that almost
everything showing gold was snapped up and put on the London market.
Stories savouring of the Arabian Nights were in free circulation, and
thousands of people from all parts of the world began to flock to
Western Australia, which from comparative obscurity has now become the
greatest gold-mining country the world has ever seen, and, no doubt, the
interior of this vast country holds an almost inexhaustible quantity of
gold-bearing quartz, which in years to come, when railways and other
appliances have made it easier to reach the far-off fields, will be
discovered and used. We may see such marvellous discoveries of gold
that “Golden Western Australia” will be the fitting name for the once
neglected Cinderella of the colonies.




[Illustration: Bayley Street, Coolgardie, 1897]




CHAPTER XV

    Coolgardie—The Camels are Coming—The Landlord’s Record—Meeting
    a Friend—A Goldfields Camp—“Nap”—The Reward Mine—Bonnie
    Vale—Londonderry—Nearly Lost—King Solomon’s Mine—Hampton Plains.


At 9 o’clock in the morning after my arrival in the Golden City, I stood
gazing in amazement at a string of 135 camels, with numerous baby camels,
such funny-looking creatures, walking by their mothers! The Afghan
leaders came crying “Hoostah,” and their Indian dresses and huge turbans
made a most picturesque sight for eyes that had before only seen the
like in pictures, or, yes, one, I think, at the Melbourne “Zoo.” Then
another camel came trotting or galloping with a European on its back, who
seemed as much at home as on a horse. I am told camel-riding gives one
a sea-sick feeling. I have never tried the experiment of a ride, though
several ladies on the fields have done so. To look at the camel you would
think a step-ladder required to mount one, but it is not so, as the camel
kneels down and allows you to get on his back; you then cling on tight,
while he proceeds to get up, which he does with an awful jerk, at the
same time making a peculiar bellowing noise, which sent me away to a good
distance. When I tell you that a camel’s hind legs will reach any part
of him, over his head, round his chest, and on to his hump, and that he
has the unpleasant habit of shooting out his legs without warning, and
also that his neck is of the same pliancy, you will not wonder that the
“ship of the desert” has no charm for me. The camel is the great beast
of burden of Western Australia; the first were brought as an experiment
to the West by two Hindoo traders; these animals quickly came into
favour in the waterless districts, and now there are thousands of them
carrying supplies to the different parts of the colony. They are very
obedient to their Afghan masters, but it is difficult for a white man
ever to obtain great influence over them; they never seem to take kindly
to white people. A string of these useful but ungainly animals is led
by one of their own species, a string passing through a peg in the nose
of every camel in the train, and keeping them in a line. The headgear
of a leading camel is a gay affair; a network of fancy coloured wool
with many a bright-hued tassel and white shells, finished off with blue
and red beads. The Afghans are very careful and proud of their “leading
gentleman.”

[Illustration: EARLY DAYS, COOLGARDIE]

Taking a drive round Coolgardie I was much surprised at the size of
the place. It is four miles square. Driving out to the racecourse we
passed the recreation-ground. As it was Saturday, many of the boys of
the town were playing cricket. We passed through the suburb of Toorak.
Certainly there are no fine mansions; for the most part the places
are Hessian camps with occasional tents, but there are also some very
comfortable-looking wooden cottages, many with praiseworthy attempts at
ornamentation, painted light green, and not at all unpleasing to the eye
in this sandy and desert-looking country. There are no large trees here
at all, a few medium-sized ones, and plenty of mulga scrub and salt-bush,
which looks most dry and uninviting, but contains much nourishment, so
that sheep and cattle thrive well on it, and mulga is almost the only
food of the camel. Returning to Coolgardie, we passed through the town
again and crossed the railway bridge to the other chief suburb, Montana.
Here we saw the fine residence of Warden Finnerty, and the hospital,
called John of God. On we went past the suburb along the road to the
famed Londonderry. The country just here was very pretty; there is a deep
gully on one side with a good deal of vegetation, which, after all the
sand and mulga, was most pleasing to the eye. The sun was just setting,
and the brilliant red of the sky seemed to cast a reflection on the
earth. The mines in the background, with the tents scattered round, a
camel-train along the bush, and the town in the distance, formed a unique
picture. Returning we took another direction, past the oldest part of the
town, and past the Afghans’ camp. The day’s work was done and hundreds of
camels were lying down or munching the mulga. The Afghans were preparing
their evening meal and chattering to one another in shrill voices. I
soon saw quite enough of this part, and was not sorry to return to my
comfortable quarters at the hotel.

The population of Coolgardie and the immediate neighbourhood is at the
present time about 13,000; a few years ago there were more than twice
that number, most of whom have gone to the Kalgoorlie and other fields,
as the enormous richness of Coolgardie is now a thing of the past,
although many mines are still yielding well.

There is a really splendid post-office, also a court-house and warden’s
offices, recently finished. These are three of the finest public
buildings in Western Australia. There are many other fine buildings,
notably the Grand Hotel, Union Bank, and Beaconsfield Chambers. The
Chamber of Mines is another handsome building on a splendid site, and a
most valuable place for the mining community. The Chamber of Mines keeps
the people of the world well informed concerning the great gold-mining
industry, and communicates statistical information of a trustworthy
character to every member interested in the mines of the colony, as well
as information concerning the fairness and justice of legislation dealing
with mines. One half of the building is occupied by the Coolgardie Club.
Looking at these magnificent buildings in the wide and spacious streets,
all lighted up by electricity, and supplied with every luxury, one can
scarcely realise that a few years ago Coolgardie was a sandy desert;
where many men went through hardships almost beyond imagination; where
fever reigned supreme; where the bare necessities of life were daily
longed for in vain; where comforts were the things to be only dreamed
of and the isolation was terrible; where tinned meat, the only kind
obtainable, became almost hateful, and received the name of “tinned dog”;
where one could almost cry, “Water, water everywhere, but not a drop
to drink,” since the pioneers often found themselves in a wilderness
with nothing but salt water, quite unfit to drink, and refused even by
the camel, who is supposed to drink almost anything obtainable. Camels
would stray away seeking for water, and then the owners would return
to their camps disheartened, saying that they had no time to look for
gold, it took all their time to look for water and camels. The terrible
longing for home news, and the uncertainty of getting any; the wall that
seemed to divide the miners from the rest of the world, together with
the feeling that there was untold wealth of gold lying beneath their
feet if they could only hold out and keep up strength to get at it, made
their lives almost intolerable, and many of those first prospectors have
gone under, poor fellows! leaving others to reap the reward and to make
Coolgardie the wonderful place it is to-day.

Then came better times, when sufficient food could be obtained, and
water condensers were brought, which, by a certain heat process, made
the salt water more fit for use, although it was still sometimes so bad
that the rich prospectors often performed their ablutions in champagne by
preference to it.

Going down Bayley Street that morning there was quite a stir outside one
of the smaller hotels. Of course, woman’s curiosity prompted me to stop
and look, and I found a wedding-party just returned from church. The
landlord of this hotel, Mr. Faahan, has really had a unique experience
in servants, for this is the twenty-second of his women assistants,
presumably in the bar, who has entered the bonds of wedlock while in
his employ. The hotel is one of the oldest in Coolgardie. I have since
entered it and met the genial Mrs. Faahan, who took me outside and showed
me an old tree beneath which the first drink under licence was served in
Coolgardie. The place that is now the kitchen was then the bar, gold-dust
was plentiful, and champagne ran like streams of water. Opposite to Mr.
Faahan’s is the Cremorne Theatre, a very large place now, but in the
first days it was a shed with a stage made of rough planks laid across
beer-casks, and no accommodation for visitors to sit down, and it is said
that the miners used to pass the time between the “turns,” as they call
them, by calling out the favourite players and throwing nuggets or screws
of gold-dust at them. Good old days!

[Illustration: WATER CONDENSER—FILLING THE WATER-BAG]

Taking my bicycle I went for a tour of inspection around the various
streets adjacent to the town, where I found many very nice houses, and
to my surprise saw a lady in a very nice carriage drawn by a pair of
greys. Truly, I ought to be surprised at nothing in wonderful Coolgardie.
The roads here are the most level and the best for cycling I have ever
ridden on; not only are the streets remarkably wide, but the footpaths
also. The town is on quite a plain. Riding merrily along I was overtaken
by a man cyclist, who did not favour me with more than a passing glance,
lady cyclists being no rarity here. I, however, recognised him as an
old friend and called out, “Jack, don’t you know me?” He stopped in
astonishment at seeing me riding about Coolgardie on a bicycle, as we
had last said good-bye in New South Wales, three years since, before
his leaving for the Golden West, whither I then had no intention of
migrating. After a little chat, in which I discovered that Jack had not
struck a gold patch or “made his pile yet,” he invited me to the camp to
dinner with himself and the boys (his mates), and feeling quite anxious
really to see for myself what the inside of the camp was like, I did not
require a second invitation. We accordingly rode off side by side, past
endless rows of tents and hessian camps, all alive with the miners now
home for their dinner. Some of them had wives in the camp to cook their
dinner, but the majority of the campers had to cook for themselves. “We
must hurry up, for I am cook this week,” said my friend, and pointing to
a parcel on the bicycle, remarked, “Here is our dinner that is to be.”
No tinned dog now, as it used to be, but real, genuine steak. On arrival
at the camp we found two of the boys anxiously awaiting the arrival of
the steak, and somewhat surprised at seeing Jack accompanied by a lady
cyclist, whom, however, they greeted with much heartiness. Poor fellows!
here were four of them all away from home and mother; all had given up
good appointments on the other side to come over and search for gold.
They were all very jolly, however, and said that they had no cause to
complain of Coolgardie. My first anxiety was to inspect the camp, which
was a neat one. It consisted of five little Hessian houses: four of
these were the sleeping apartments of the four mates, and two of them
especially were models of comfort, as far as the boys could manage it.
One was lined with bright cretonne, a shaded lamp by the side of the
bed, a rough bookcase with the owner’s favourite books and photographs
of various friends opposite; a nice cosy chair and a wooden table, made
by my friend Jack, completed the furniture. Then another had his camp
lined with green baize, very nice in winter, but too hot, I imagine,
in summer-time. Here was a nice little table, two shelves painted with
white enamel paint, and some sketches done by the owner; many little
presents that had been sent from home were being proudly shown to me
when we heard the welcome sound, “Dinner is ready.” We then adjourned to
the fifth tent, which proved to be dining-room, parlour, and card-room
in one. A table down the middle covered with oil-cloth, a bench at each
side, with a side shelf and rustic dresser, formed the furniture. The
steak was cooked splendidly. My thoughts went back to the time when I
had seen Jack last, quite a swell young man at Newcastle, N.S.W., and
now here he was in a wide hat and shirt-sleeves, cook to the camp, and
looking, I must say, all the better for his roughing experiences. They
had brought out the man in him. Before he was somewhat inclined to be
effeminate, now he had become a fine fellow. But I am wandering away from
the dinner-party. The butter was good, although it was tinned butter,
and the bread as light as a feather. “The baker calls every day,” they
told me, “and if we are all out we pin up a memo. on the door and tell
him how many loaves to leave.” “Now,” said Jack, “I must go out and
get the pudding.” I felt I ought at least to assist, and was also a
little curious to see how it was being cooked, so getting up in spite of
protests that I was the guest and must do nothing, I went out to quiz. I
found the fireplace consisted of two iron spikes in the ground with a bar
across, from which hooks were hanging, and on the hooks were two billies
(tin cans with wire at top to hang by), one with tea and the other with
pudding. I was presently to have what we call in the colonies “billy
tea.” I could see no pudding-cloth, but presently Jack fished out a
shining tin which proved to contain one of Swallow and Ariel’s Melbourne
plum puddings, and a delicious one it was. Mothers in the colonies and
in England need never fear that their boys away on the goldfields do
not get nice puddings or cakes while Swallow and Ariel are to the fore.
Returning to the dining-tent pudding laden, I found the boys had just
extracted from a tin a sweet cake and also a preserved pineapple. This,
with tinned Viking cream and the billy tea, finished up a dinner fit for
a Princess of Coolgardie, as indeed I felt myself to be that evening,
with those four boys doing me homage. I found out afterwards that they
had all these nice things in the camp in reserve for Christmas, but they
were only too glad to open them all in my honour. Apropos of tinned
articles, the piles of discarded tins on the fields make one open one’s
eyes; there must be millions of them. One of my friends told me that in
earlier days, when everything in the palpitating heat-waves and fearful
grilliness of the camps got destroyed with heat and dust, they used to
come home to their meals feeling almost inclined to fall down and worship
the tinned vegetables and meat that they had buried in holes to try and
keep cool, and that these were the only eatable things to be got. Canned
apples were a special luxury for Sundays, and took them back to orchards
and gardens where they had wandered in the past. “Those apples, with a
lump of plum pudding, full of good things, sustained our waning energies
and brought us up smiling out of our then dreary camp life, and,” said
another, “it brought back happy recollections of civilisation and home.”

After dinner we played a game of Nap on the camp-table, and I was the
winner of nine shillings, after which they all escorted me back to
my hotel, calling in on our way to see some other friends at another
camp, which proved to be a more pretentious place than the first, and
consisted of one of the pretty cottages before spoken of, the tenants
again bachelors. The inmates, a mining manager, his secretary, and clerk,
are attended by a Japanese servant; a very nice piano was in the pretty
drawing-room. One of the boys sang “Queen of my Heart,” in compliment he
said to me, and after a friendly glass of wine we resumed our bicycles
and rode gaily into the town, where I bade them good-bye, after spending
a most enjoyable afternoon in a goldfields’ camp.

[Illustration: Burbanks Grand Junction Mine]

I went next day to see Bayley’s Mine, where those wonderful first
finds were made. As I drove down broad Bayley Street and looked at the
stately buildings, I could not but think of those early days and of the
excitement of that time.

Of course I did not expect to pick up lumps of gold as people did then,
but I certainly intended to keep my eyes very wide open, for I knew it
was not an infrequent occurrence for men to find good slugs of gold about
Coolgardie still. There are always a lot of men fossicking (looking for
gold at the surface) about Bayley’s, and recently a man found a specimen
of quartz weighing 144 ounces, and containing 97 ounces of pure gold;
later on he found several smaller pieces near the same place. The country
around Bayley’s is not very striking. Beyond the mines working and the
smoke from their batteries there is nothing to be seen except miles of
holes where the prospectors have been at work seeking for gold. It must
have been a busy scene when they were here. Thousands of miners digging
away, and then washing the stuff in tin dishes to see if there was a show
of gold; and if one hole showed nothing, away they turned to another. The
manager of Bayley’s took me round and told me that the mine is still very
rich.

[Illustration: Vale of Coolgardie Mine]

I think the people of Coolgardie ought to erect a memorial pillar to mark
the wonderful spot which may well be called the Mother of Coolgardie.
Little did the pioneers think, when they camped on this spot a few
years ago, that the arid desert would turn into a fine city, with more
golden country farther out, and other cities, with tens of thousands
of people earning good wages, and many amassing large fortunes. Such a
transformation in so short a time the world has never known.

After leaving Bayley’s I crossed through a network of poles until I
struck the main road, and drove off to Bonnie Vale, which deserves its
name, the country being very hilly and quite surprisingly fresh and
green. Here many fine mines, viz., the Vale of Coolgardie, New Victoria
Consols, and others, under the control of Mr. A. E. Morgans, the member
for the district, are in full swing, and only wanting plenty of water
to give big results. A very nice little town lies close to the mines.
In another direction are the Big Blow and the Flagstaff; then come
Burbanks and Burbanks Birthday Gift. Burbanks Birthday Gift is really
a splendid mine. The main shaft, with its steel poppet-heads, is well
worth a visit, and so are the interesting models of different parts of
the mine, which were sent to the Paris Exhibition. Lady Charlotte Mine is
well worth inspection; a fine new battery has lately been erected, and
operations are now in full swing. The gold I saw from this mine—what they
call “coarse free gold”—was very splendid, and the quartz with the gold
showing through was exceedingly rich.

I next visited the famous Londonderry Mine, some five miles farther on
through the bush. I had some difficulty in finding my way, as, after
leaving the last mine a few miles behind, there were several tracks, and
I did not know which to take. However, I took the one to the right, and,
after going on another mile, came across a party of five prospectors,
who looked somewhat surprised when I drove up and asked to be directed
to the Londonderry. They were, however, most civil, and gave me the
requisite directions, one even offering to accompany me. That, however,
I thought unnecessary, so I drove off, and soon came in sight of the
big poppet-heads of Londonderry, and none too soon, for I had just
discovered that a portion of the buggy I was driving had given way and
I could not have gone on much farther. The mine and its surroundings
gave one a very favourable impression. Everything looked bright and
nice. I drove up to the manager’s office, who immediately sent a man to
take the buggy to the blacksmith’s shop for repair, the horse to the
stables for a feed, after which he kindly invited me to his house, and
giving instructions to his housekeeper to attend to all my wants, had
to leave me, as it was time to go down the mine for inspection. I was
not at all sorry for a rest in a cool room, with a cup of tea and some
excellent cakes made by the housekeeper, for after the drive of ten
miles in the hot sun through the Coolgardie bush I felt that there are
drawbacks to travelling. When the manager came up from below he escorted
me over the mine and showed me everything of interest. Londonderry was,
after Bayley’s, the richest find near Coolgardie, and held a wonderful
record. The mine is the brightest-looking I have seen. Everything about
it seemed spick and span; the manager’s house was a model of comfort.
There was a store, a blacksmith’s shop, offices, and, indeed, every
appurtenance that could be desired for a mine. The manager unlocked the
great iron safe and showed me such gold that I had never seen before. I
felt like Shakespeare’s Benedick, “I did not think that I should live to
see such gold.” It was really the most brilliant and beautiful sight I
had ever seen. One large block of white quartz was thickly studded with
gold in nuggets all over it. I wanted to pick one off, but on trying to
do so found it firmly imbedded in the quartz. Over a dozen magnificent
specimens came from one rich pocket. Down below in this wonderful mine,
at the 200-foot level, a huge case is fitted up with iron doors for the
reception of the rich surplus ore that the safes cannot hold. I admired
some peculiar-looking specimens that I was told were felspar, which is
valuable for glass-making, and is found here in large quantities.

[Illustration: JUBILEE AT RED HILL MINE]

After all the kindness I had received from the manager I bade him a
reluctant farewell, as it was getting late and a ten-mile drive through
strange country to Coolgardie lay before me, but I knew there was a moon
that night, and did not fear the Australian bush at all, so I refused
the offer of an escort, and drove off by a different road from the one
I came for I wanted to see the township of Londonderry before I left.
This is about half a mile from the mine, past the tidy camps of the men,
who all came out and bade me a cheery good-bye. I stopped long enough
in the town to see that it is remarkably well laid out, with a very wide
principal street, a few very nice buildings, viz., post-office, store,
hotel and church; also a nice recreation-ground, where a number of the
miners and other townfolk were playing cricket. But I had to hurry away,
so, turning round a corner and following the telegraph-line, I started
for Coolgardie. The sun was just going down, the heat of the day was
over, and with the evening a refreshing breeze had arisen. I drove on
quite happily. Nothing happened, except that I met two swagmen in the
Bush, who looked at me so hard that I must confess I whipped up the horse
and got on as quickly as I could. I was now on quite a different road
from the one I came by. Everything looked strange, and I began to wonder
whether I was lost, but consoled myself by looking at the telegraph-line,
which I knew must lead to Coolgardie. The Wealth of Nations Mine lies in
this direction, one of the Western Australian golcondas of early days,
where discoveries of gold, frequently in pockets—small holes containing
comparatively large quantities of gold—such as had not previously been
known, were made near the surface, and caused the wildest excitement. It
was, however, too late to go there now, so I continued on the same road.
Another mile brought a big mine in view, and to my relief I found myself
at Burbanks again, and on the main road, so I was all right, and drove
merrily along, meeting only a carter or so walking by the side of their
teams, who, seeing a lady driving alone, said, “Good-night, missus,”
and went steadily on. As we got to the rise of the hill at Montana the
presence of hundreds of lights gave me welcome to the Queen City of Gold,
so there was a safe ending to that day’s journey, and both myself and
horse were quite ready for a good supper when we arrived at the hotel.

Next morning I started for Hampton Plains, which is a large area of
ground taken up many years ago by an English syndicate at 2_s._ 6_d._ per
acre for pastoral purposes. However, when the rush of ’92 broke out at
Coolgardie, the news travelled to England that the great rush was only a
few miles from their territory. No wonder that they then immediately sent
out an expert, Mr. Lapage, M.I.E.C.E., to reconnoitre. On Mr. Lapage’s
arrival he found that a considerable number of alluvial surface holes had
already been struck, and 1000 ounces of gold had been taken out within
their boundary. Going over the land he found shows of gold in various
places; owing to the scarcity of water, nothing much, however, had ever
been developed there until recently, when the estate was thrown open to
prospectors. Large brickworks are now started on one part of the plains,
and the demand from Kalgoorlie for bricks is so great that the company
have lately duplicated their plant in order to make bricks enough to meet
the orders they receive.

On my way to Hampton Plains I called at Bayley’s South, which are
yielding up very good gold. I saw a lot of ore come up out of the mine
that showed gold distinctly. I felt myself becoming quite an expert now.
The ore brought up here is in part hornblende schist, carrying very
visible gold. The manager told me the gold had evidently been shed from
the reef into the surrounding country rock, where there are cross reefs.
I also saw some ironstone, which I was told was very rich, but the gold
in it was so fine that one required to use a magnifying-glass, with the
aid of which I could distinctly see it.

I next visited King Solomon’s Mine—not Rider Haggard’s famous one but
an exceedingly interesting namesake. Here there are quantities of the
diorite mixture of felspar and hornblende, with gold distinctly showing
through. This is an unusual and peculiar geological formation, and the
best specimens found on the field are at this mine. The gold has been
found impregnated in the diorite at a considerable distance from the
reefs, probably deposited there by water. I presently passed the Golden
Queen, and thought this such a nice name for a mine that I had to get
down and inspect it. I was lucky in just being in time to see two bars
of gold come up from the smelting works, and felt very covetous. The
manager told me that if I liked I could take them. I tried to do so and
found they were too heavy for me to carry, so perforce had to leave them,
much to my regret. I now approached Hampton Plains, a very flat part
of the country, as its name indicates. I looked around in vain for a
hostelry where I might put up and refresh myself and horse, but no sign
of anything of the kind appeared; about a dozen nice-looking houses in a
line were all I could see, the rest was plain, plain, plain. I summoned
courage to open the double gates of one of the houses and drove up to
ask for a drink for my poor horse, who seemed almost overcome with the
heat of the day. A man seeing me came to inquire what I wanted, and while
I was speaking to him a lady appeared on the broad verandah and kindly
invited me to enter. I was really glad to do so. Mrs. Ridsdale—for such
was the lady’s name—kindly told the man to put the horse up and go and
try and find enough water for a drink for him. They were really without
water on this dreadful hot day, waiting for the water-carts to come with
supplies. However, I was hospitably entertained with soda-water and
claret and biscuits, and after a rest, finding that my horse had been
refreshed with water, and also with some food, the carts having arrived,
I started off to investigate Hampton Plains. I did not find a great deal
to see. Several claims have been taken up, with no very great results so
far, except at the Italians Reward Claim, where some very rich stuff has
been got from the mine. There I was shown some handsome specimens, which
were kept in pickle-bottles, and very much admired one large nugget,
weighing 15 ounces. The land around here seemed suitable for pastoral
pursuits, if it were not for the scarcity of water, a difficulty which
will be overcome when the river of fresh water arrives at Coolgardie, and
there will no doubt in time be plenty of gardens and orchards, for the
soil is most productive. I saw a finger-post marked, “To Red Hill.” That
is another goldfield likely to be rich in the future.




CHAPTER XVI

    The Golden Butterfly—Norseman—Gold Exhibits—Coolgardie—Alluvial
    Treasures.


Before leaving for England Mr. St. John Winne, the manager of the
Butterfly Leases at Red Hill, showed me some marvellously rich gold
specimens that he was taking with him to show the English investors. One
particular piece from which the mine derives its name is in the shape of
a butterfly—wings, body, even the little horns are perfectly like one. I
have read the “Golden Butterfly,” and have seen many golden butterflies
careering in the air, but never thought to have one of natural solid gold
in my hand. Mr. Winne has now returned from England, and I believe the
English shareholders’ eyes were fairly dazzled with the samples of the
prospective wealth before them.

[Illustration: Golden Butterfly Nugget]

It is 40 miles from Coolgardie to Red Hill and Lake Lefroy, and the
journey is anything but pleasant; the “Brumbies,” however, knew their
way, and the manner in which they got through the bush was astounding.
There was no road, only a track, but they took us safely over fallen
trees, &c., for which we were duly thankful. There were several camps
of prospectors about and the men seemed to be quite contented, and were
getting gold; they were, however, like all alluvial miners, rather
reticent about the quantity. Water is very scarce; it was a good thing we
had provided ourselves with water-bags and a good hamper of provisions,
otherwise we should have fared badly, for the only bush hotel we came
to was made of the proverbial tin, and everything inside was nearly at
boiling-point, so we preferred camping out under a tree. Water-bags are a
great institution in Western Australia. They are made of canvas, and have
a metal spout; as you drive along they swing in the air, which makes the
water delightfully cool. Lake Lefroy is a beautiful-looking lake, and I
longed for a bathe after the intense heat and dust of the day; but, alas!
the water was but a mirage, and you could only look and long. It was,
however, a beautiful sight; the white salt on its surface, stretching
for miles, seemed to reflect the blue sky with the sun shimmering on it.
There are a great number of lakes in Western Australia, but they are
nearly all dry and salt; no water can be obtained except by boring, and
then it has to be condensed before it is usable. After being condensed it
is quite palatable, and many fortunes have been made on the goldfields by
people owning condensers.

[Illustration: The Main Shaft, Butterfly Leases.]

Red Hill is not a bad little place. The accommodation of the Bush
“hotel” was very primitive, but we were in the “back-blocks” of the
West, and felt that we must not be too critical. There were several
mines and numbers of alluvial miners at work getting good results,
and very sanguine of making a big find one of these days. I saw the
stope (excavation) where the Treasure Chamber was, in which all the
before-mentioned gold at the Butterfly Mine was found, and I wished a
similar rich pocket might be struck while I was on the spot. Thirty miles
from Red Hill is Wigiemooltha, and 65 miles farther on is Norseman, a
rich mining town in the Dundas Goldfield. In the future there is to be a
railway line through these places, and, the people hope, to Esperance,
a seaport 200 miles from Coolgardie and 237 miles from Albany. Norseman
is a very flourishing goldfields town of over 1000 people. There are
some good mines there, the foremost one, The Norseman, turning out
considerably over 1000 ounces of gold per month. The Princess Royal and
Break o’ Day Mines have also given splendid results, sensationally rich
gold having been recently found at the latter mine.

The clergyman at Norseman performs the tying of the marriage-knot for
many hundred miles around, and it is recorded that two couples were so
anxious for connubial felicity, and wrote so many pressing letters for
the minister to come and unite them, that he started on his bicycle for a
150-mile ride through the desert country, and that when within 20 miles
of the place the bicycle broke down and he had to push it the rest of
the way! Had this not happened he had intended going on another trifle
of 100 miles or so to make another couple happy! The breakdown, however,
put a stop to his travels, and the couple are perhaps still watching and
waiting for the parson, who returned to Norseman per camel.

An exhibition was being held at Coolgardie during one of my visits
there, and was very interesting on account of the many magnificent gold
exhibits. As well as the gold, there were many splendid exhibits from the
agricultural districts, which opened the eyes of the goldfields people,
most of whom had never been in any other part of the colony but the
goldfields, and who had an idea that gold was Western Australia’s only
product. Many of these people have been so much impressed that they have
taken up agricultural land with a view to having a country residence,
to which they can retire after the heat and dryness of the goldfields
and recruit while planting their gardens. In the Agricultural and Fruit
Court bunches of grapes, weighing 8 lb. each, apples, pears, and quinces,
2 lb. each, pomegranates, oranges, and other fruits, were shown in rich
and tempting profusion. A trophy of pumpkins, marrows, and cucumbers of
all hues, shapes, and sizes was displayed. The crown of the trophy was a
huge brown pumpkin weighing 165 lb.! A vast array of watermelons, some
weighing 50 lb. each, mangels and other sorts of homely vegetables, of
immense size, were to be seen. All kinds of cereals were represented. It
is a fact that no less than 32 distinct varieties of wheat can be grown
in the colony. The wool I thought very good, considering what a small
quantity is grown here yet. The collection certainly demonstrates the
fitness of certain parts of the colony for raising flocks. One fleece of
330 days growth weighed 13½ lb. I was also surprised to see some cotton
that was grown on the East Murchison at Mount Warragi.

The row of gilt pyramids representing the output of gold from each field
struck my eye as soon as I entered the exhibition. It is interesting to
remember that, when the Colonial and Indian Exhibition was held at South
Kensington, London, Western Australia was not known as a gold-producing
country, and was represented principally by wild flowers. In this
exhibition the collection of auriferous ores was simply marvellous. There
were many bags of rich gold ores from all parts of the country, as well
as curious beautiful and interesting specimens of tin, iron, copper,
asbestos, mica, and coal; in fact, samples of almost everything found
beneath the earth’s surface in this wide colony. Then the gold: gold in
granite, gold in quartz, gold in diorite, gold in telluride, gold in the
wash, gold in the pug, gold in all kinds of alluvial deposits—in fact,
gold, gold everywhere. A section of the calcite vein from the Block 45
Mine, where the telluride was first discovered, is interesting. The
auriferous breccia from Nullagine, in the North-west, was shown to me
by my guide, who explained that the stuff was of similar formation to
the gold deposits of the Rand in South Africa, in which diamonds are
sometimes found; and, speaking of Nullagine, there is now a syndicate
there looking for diamonds. The mine is called after Lady Forrest, some
small diamonds have been found, and from the latest reports fresh wonders
are expected there soon.

There was a splendid specimen of fine flake gold, and a magnificent large
piece of quartz with gold all through it. This was from the Brown Hill
Mine. The Golden Horseshoe showed such wonderful specimens of richness
that my eyes were fairly dazzled, and it is impossible to enumerate them.
Free gold, mustard gold, and the sparkling sponge gold that really shone
like diamonds were shown me, and a part of the rich finds that were
discovered when the shares went up to £45; it nearly took my breath away
to look at them. The Associated Mines had a wonderful exhibit, the finest
of its kind in the world. It consisted of a block of ore showing massive
telluride gold of different kinds. A dark mineral in the centre of the
block when analysed proved to be sulphide of copper. By way of contrast,
a small piece of ore containing telluride has been placed in front, and
acid employed to dissolve the tellurium, and this helps one to comprehend
the value of telluride.

The Boulder Perseverance had a very fine collection of different kinds
of ore and gold and also some diamond drill cores which I had not seen
before. The magnificent collection of the Lake View Consols, consisting
of 68 specimens, showing telluride of gold, 34 valuable samples of
sulphide ore, and 32 pieces of oxidised ore, showing immense quantities
of gold, besides many others showing the various stages of oxidisation,
really ought to be seen, words cannot describe their beauty. The Great
Boulder Mine showed 14 splendid specimens of rich oxidised ore from the
100-foot level, containing sponge and free gold, and 15 specimens from
the 200-foot level. In the centre of these was a block of ore with a
hole right through it full of sponge gold; there were 12 specimens of
rich sulphide ore from the 300-foot level, 10 very interesting samples
of tellurides of gold, mercury, and silver, and saucers with chips of
telluride of gold. Kalgurlite, which is a new mineral, a telluride of
gold, silver, and mercury, containing 35 per cent. of gold, 10 per cent.
of silver, and 46 per cent. of tellurium, was also exhibited, and a very
unique collection of sponge gold occupied a case in the centre of the
court. This was found in a very large vugh, and 60lb. weight was obtained
from one spot in the oxidised ore. It was composed of a mass of minute
crystals, and is the most brilliant form of gold found upon the field.
From the 400-foot level came some marvellous samples of ore showing
telluride of gold and free gold, and from the hanging wall of the lode,
and the foot wall of the same level, more rich specimens were shown.

[Illustration: The Miners’ Holiday]

There were some splendid exhibits from the Ivanhoe Mine, and from
hundreds of other mines on the field. Those I have first mentioned were
from Kalgoorlie alone. There were splendid exhibits from Coolgardie,
Kanowna, Menzies, and Murchison Mines, and from many other parts of the
colony, whose unparalleled richness called forth the following remark
from an American mining-man, who was visiting the court at the same time
as I was, and who had come from Cripple Creek in Colorado: “Wal, I’ve
seen a big lot of specimens in my time, but I must take off my hat to
these; they lick creation!” I returned next day to have a look at the
alluvial gold from the famed Kanowna. The court of alluvial diggings
was attracting a great deal of attention, not because of its richness
but also on account of the stir made in 1897 by the rush there, when the
rich alluvial gold was first struck by George Sim. Not only has Kanowna
proved itself a mine of wealth for thousands of hard-working alluvial
miners, who chiefly worked the claims themselves, and consequently
had all the gold “on their own,” as their saying goes, but it also
produces a very fine building stone. There was in the exhibition a most
remarkable-looking perfect crystal 17½ inches long and 9 inches thick,
which was discovered in the alluvial wash at Shand and party’s Claim. The
display of alluvial matter in all its varied forms shown in this court
was almost enough to spur on any one to become a prospector. A golden
harvest has been reaped by thousands of men in a few short months, for
the rush to Kanowna began in November 1897, and at that time the town
of Kanowna was virtually dead; three months later it was estimated that
there were 2000 miners in the field and 20,000 people in Kanowna all
told. In twelve months the field was virtually worked out, and although a
few parties are still getting a reward for their labours, there are not
now more than 1000 men on the field. The stuff called “pug,” from which
they get very fine gold, is a most peculiar greenish, soft, putty-looking
substance, and there was a fine show of it from Hampton’s Claim in the
Golden Valley. This was found 61 feet down, and the deposit is 7 feet
thick. Some splendid specimens of lode material showed crystalline gold
extremely rich, worth 40 ounces to the ton. The Red, White and Blue
Claim, owned by Pratt and party, displayed rich ironstone alluvial
wash. This claim yielded 4500 ounces of gold, worth £18,000, and only a
few partners divided it. Some green alluvial wash which has given rich
results was from the Moonlight Lead, which also showed flake gold; and
from the Magpie Claim there was rich alluvial ore shown worth 9 ounces
per ton.

Rich treasures similar to these were sent from the mines to the Paris
Exhibition, and the Western Australian Court was universally said to
have the finest collection of minerals the world had ever shown. The
Bobby Dazzler nugget, weighing 413 ounces of solid gold, valued at £1500,
was a surprise to many beholders; among the hundreds of other solid lumps
of the precious metal sent to Paris was the large nugget that was cut in
two by one of the two men who found it, and who then drew lots for the
sections and found that there was only a difference of 30s. in the value
of them. Another slug of gold, worth £639, had the distinct mark of a
pick on it. I suppose the man who found it could hardly believe in his
good luck until he struck it a second time. Another strange lump of gold
is shaped like the map of England, another like a camel’s head. The last
“clean up” of the Westralian Mount Morgans Mine was sent in bars of gold
worth £11,600. The Westralian Government purchased from the owners of
various mines I mention in these travels over £100,000 worth of gold for
the exhibition, and this, supplemented by quantities more since won, will
be shown at the Glasgow Exhibition this year. The pearl-shell exhibit,
was composed of 600 enormous gleaming shells, which, when lit up by
electric light, looked like a fairy grotto. During last year there were
179 vessels engaged in the pearl-shell fisheries in Western Australia,
and their aggregate tonnage was 2707. The number of men employed was
1165, of which total 991 were Asiatics. The pearl-shell raised amounted
to 720 tons, valued at £80,479, and the value of pearls found was
£15,529. Also our colony took four first prizes for timber, wool, wheat,
and minerals, at the Paris Exhibition, besides eight gold medals, five
silver ones, and five bronze for other productions.




[Illustration: Hannan Street, Kalgoorlie, 1898]




CHAPTER XVII

    Kalgoorlie City—The Six Great Mines in the Golden Mile—Mr.
    Kaufman—Early Predictions Verified—Associated—Lake View Consols
    and Great Boulder.


Hannan’s, or Kalgoorlie as it is now called, is 24 miles from Coolgardie,
and as I took my comfortable seat in the railway carriage, sped along
the once forsaken desert and arrived at the now famous City of Gold,
with its broad streets and splendid buildings, it seemed incredible that
such a transformation should take place in a few short years. It would
be difficult to point to any place in the world that has developed so
rapidly. During their short existence Kalgoorlie and the Boulder City
have turned out over 31 tons of gold, and Coolgardie has been quite
outstripped by her younger sister. I think, when gold is measured by the
ton, the colony from which it comes may be fairly considered marvellous.
It is only seven years since Hannan and Harrigan threw themselves down
to rest on the ground at the eastern corner of what is now Kalgoorlie,
and, fortunately for thousands of lucky people, discovered gold, and
now, as far as that precious metal is concerned, Kalgoorlie is the hub of
Australia. Kalgoorlie is a well-laid-out city. Bicycle tracks are laid
down on the 30-foot wide paths, electric lights are everywhere, trees
have been planted in the broad streets, and by-and-by will afford shade
in the hot days for which Kalgoorlie is noted. The new post-office is a
splendid building, and has cost £40,000. The warden’s and other public
offices are also on a grand scale. There are several magnificent hotels,
especially the Railway, opposite the station, and the Palace, covering
half an acre of ground, which I have made my headquarters. This hotel
is far the best on the goldfields of Western Australia; every luxury
is obtainable; it has a spacious dining-room with electric fans always
going, exquisite drawing-rooms, and good attendance.

There are several newspapers, the chief of which is the _Kalgoorlie
Miner_, edited by Mr. Kirwan, who identifies himself in every way with
the interests of the people as well as with his editorial duties;
the miners have a staunch friend in him. There are many fine shops,
especially jewellers, where gold nuggets of all shapes and sizes
made into handsome ornaments may be bought. Land at Kalgoorlie is
daily increasing in value. An offer of £100 a foot was refused by
an acquaintance of mine for a plot she is lucky enough to own. Some
mining-men, including the well-known Mr. Zeb. Lane, were dining at the
next table to myself on one occasion, and one of them remarked that he
was sure that in a few years there would be 300,000 people in Kalgoorlie.
You may be sure, holding that opinion, that the gentleman was looking
out for investments. A handsome new theatre is being erected in Hannan’s
Street. At present the Miners’ Institute supplies the entertainments. The
suburbs of Piccadilly and Mullingar stretch far beyond the town site, and
the three miles to Boulder City are fast being built on, and will shortly
form one continuous busy road. Three fine breweries supply the needful
refreshment to thirsty souls, and altogether Kalgoorlie is a splendid
goldfields city, but the summer weather is almost indescribable. One of
the days had been unbearably hot and oppressive; but dark clouds were
overhead, and I said, “Soon we shall have a rain storm, which will cool
the air.” My friends whom I was visiting laughed, and one of them, with
a merry twinkle in the eye, said, “There will probably be a storm, but
you will soon get accustomed to this kind of weather; _wait awhile_.” In
the evening Fitzgerald’s “Great World Circus” being in town, we decided
to risk the “storm,” make up a party, and go to the performance. All
went well until about nine o’clock, when suddenly came “the dreadful
thunder”—the clouds had broken; then came, not the rain, but dust, dust,
_dust_—red, stifling, blinding, and terrible; for the roof of the “Great
World Circus” had been completely lifted off by the red-dust fiend, while
with his breath he had extinguished almost every light in the tent.
Crash! whiff! whirl! and the “willy willy” had madly danced far away. One
minute’s terrified silence and then through the remaining red haze could
be seen the circus performers bravely continuing their entertainment as
if nothing had happened; and blended with the echo of the distant din
could be heard the strains, “Gaily the music go-o-es, so gaily.” But
the vast audience of upwards of 3000 people, who, though the roar had
been so strangely “hush,” had witnessed enough excitement for one night,
gradually filed out through the rent of the swaying canvas wall, my
friends and I amongst them, arriving home very white-faced, underneath
the brown-red war paint so cunningly and weirdly distributed on us by the
fiend. After wiping the dust out of my own eye, I remembered the twinkle
that I had seen in some one else’s, and I laughingly exclaimed, “Was that
the ‘thunderstorm’ you recommended me to ‘wait’ for?”

[Illustration: Palace Hotel, Kalgoorlie]

“We had a narrow escape,” tersely and grimly (I had almost written
grimily), remarked my friend; but he must have rubbed the twinkle out of
his eye and the dust into his temper for he declined to see the joke;
however, as mirth is catching, we were soon a merry party once more,
and I was regaled with “willy willy” stories of roofs being carried
for miles, and of houses being torn down by these huge “dust spouts,”
and, as at intervals I heard the “thunder” in the distance, I could
well believe the dancing, whirling devils capable of anything. Many
good theatrical companies now visit the goldfields, but the expenses of
a travelling company are very large, the railway fare from Perth being
about six pounds each return ticket first class, and four pounds second
(there is no third class in the colonies). The hotel tariff is from
twelve shillings per day (Palace sixteen), the smallest drinks (a big
item in such a hot and thirsty country) are a shilling each, and half a
crown is the usual price for a bath, as before said. There are no large
theatres on the fields, but the managers make the prices for admission
high, the community not caring how much they spend if they really wish
to see anything; in fact, that is one of their little worries, they are
always looking out for something to spend their money on. Horses, yes,
the best procurable, and they are a very high price. Champagne is from
twenty-five shillings a bottle, and that is the first drink the lucky
miner calls for; his great mania is “shouting,” as they call it, that
is treating wine to everybody they know. “Wives and families to spend
it on?” “Oh, yes; but they are on the other side,” meaning the Eastern
colonies; “I always send them plenty to live on, and when I’ve made my
pile (fortune) I’ll go home with it; in the meantime I must do something
to make life endurable here,” and the Hebe at the bar smiles sweetly,
and for it receives perhaps a diamond bracelet. I am not speaking of
the miner who earns his weekly wages, but of the man who is lucky in
his speculations of shares, or who owns part of a mine, and when they
strike rich, as they call it, spends his money lavishly. I sat on the
Palace Hotel balcony in Hannan Street one afternoon and watched the crowd
passing up and down; I was surprised to see the women so richly dressed,
elegant Redfern tailor-made gowns and Worth carriage costumes (although
no carriages were to be seen, but plenty of buggies with dust-covered
hoods) were much in evidence; many of the rich women send to London and
Paris I am told for their gowns. Occasionally a plainly-dressed woman in
a tweed or Assam silk costume with neat sailor hat would pass, probably
a mine manager’s wife or English visitor, but the majority of the women
of the goldfields spare no expense in the style and richness of their
dresses. At the present time the population of Kalgoorlie, its suburbs,
and Boulder City is nearly 60,000. In a very short time electric tramways
will be running, and extensive swimming baths are now being built. There
are many good churches, which shows that in the rush for gold the welfare
of the soul is not neglected. Goldfields places are usually looked on
as somewhat lawless. I can assure my readers, however, that those in
Western Australia are an exception.

[Illustration: Hannan Street, Kalgoorlie, Early Days]

Over the hill, not to the poorhouse, but to the rich Mount Charlotte
Mine, I one morning took my way. From the hill a splendid view is
obtained, and for three miles beyond nearly all to be seen is mines,
their poppet-heads and batteries showing distinct against the sky. The
manager of the Mount Charlotte Mine was away, so I could not get much
information, and so, like Jo in “Bleak House,” I had to move on. The
next mine is Hannan’s Reward, where gold was first struck (found) at
Kalgoorlie; and although such wonderful results came from this place at
first, the mine has now been outpaced by many others. I passed dozens
more of mines, but did not stop until I got to the Brown Hill Mine, under
the control of Messrs. Bewick, Moreing & Co., one of the finest on the
field. This mine, as its name indicates, is on the top of a hill, and is
a most imposing-looking one; wealth seems to speak from the buildings
around it. The manager’s house is a splendid bungalow style of place,
replete, I believe, with every modern comfort. Outside is a tennis court
and other evidences of the manager’s tastes. The offices are large and
convenient. The manager, Mr. Feldman, being away in England, I did not
go down the mine, therefore cannot tell you anything about it; but Dr.
Diehl, who represents the London and Hamburg Gold Recovery Company in
connection with the Brown Hill Mine, has lately made a most interesting
discovery _re_ the treatment of sulphide ore, likely to be of much value
in the mining world. From this place I went to the Crœsus, thence to
Block 45, another mine that has given big results. Of course there are
many mines that have not proved as rich as those mentioned. Mining seems
to be like fishing: there may be any number of fine fish, but it does not
fall to the luck of all anglers to catch them.

Away again past more mines, down through Golden Valley, now past
the Oroya, North Boulder, Bank of England, and Coolgardie Mint—all
splendid mines; then up the highest hill at the Boulder, as this part
of the goldfield is called, where I came to the great Australia mine
(Associated). From this place one has a glorious view of the other great
mines on the Golden Mile, so-called on account of the marvellous quantity
of gold that has been and is still being extracted from its depths—Lake
Mew, Great Boulder, Ivanhoe, Boulder Perseverance, and Golden Horseshoe.
They present a magnificent spectacle. It is almost impossible to describe
in words the wonders of the golden hills on which these wonderful mines
are placed.

Close to the Golden Mile is a small square of business places—hotels,
stores, different kinds of little shops, and a brewery; this was the
beginning of Boulder City, but in consequence of the influx of people
and the increasing prosperity of the mines, it was found necessary to
establish the Miners’ City, a mile farther away, the intervening ground
being required for mining. According to mining laws any ground taken up
for that purpose cannot legally be built on, but miners are allowed to
camp there on sufferance, and the area is therefore dotted over with
mushroom-like tents and canvas houses.

The Australia is the largest of the Associated Mines. Everything seen
is of the latest date; every appliance that man’s ingenuity can devise
is here. To convey the stone along the open cut to the mill there is a
wonderful aerial tramway composed of wire cables, on which the trucks
run high up in the air; it is a marvellous way of conveyance, but more
peculiar still is what is here called the “Flying Fox,” which has an
iron bucket on a single rope of twisted wire. Machinery on the top of
the shaft and above the crushing mill conveys it to its destination;
then the bucket empties as if by magic, and flies back to the bottom of
the open cut, a quarter of a mile journey, to be again replenished. It
seems almost incredible that a girl ever had the courage to take that
journey, and yet one actually performed the perilous feat. The manager in
jest had dared her to do it on her visit to the mine, and she, being a
strong-willed Scotch girl, took him at his word, got into the new aerial
car, flew through the air, and arrived quite safe at the bottom of the
cut, while every one present held their breath with amazement; and I
believe that all the workmen, on seeing a pretty girl deposited at their
feet in place of the usual prosaic empty bucket, stood in consternation
and amazement, wondering what the clouds were going to rain next. The
underground workings of the Australia are brilliantly lit with electric
light, which shows up the gleam of the rich gold through the ores so
beautifully as you peer through the light into the magnificent chambers
of oxidised or sulphide ore, you can almost imagine yourself in Aladdin’s
Cave. On the 300-foot level there is a magnificent chamber or stope, 16
ft. high and 40 ft. wide, from which thousands of tons of ore have been
taken, returning 8 oz. to the ton. A specimen weighing 1½ cwt. had just
been broken off. It was studded and seamed with rich telluride. Owing to
the telluride lodes, mining presents wonderful possibilities. There is
no knowing what marvels may any day come to light. The rock-drill, whose
motive power is compressed air, had pierced down 550 ft. There was a
large gang of men down the mine timbering, enormous great poles, almost
tree trunks, were being put in position, propping up the earth to make it
safe. It made me shudder to think of the dangers of a miner’s life, and
yet, comparatively speaking, there are very few accidents in the mines
here. The genial underground-manager told me that every precaution was
taken in all the mines nowadays. We emerged from the shaft once more into
the light of day. The first thing to strike the eye on the top were the
enormous looking cyanide tanks, then the amalgamator’s rooms, where we
saw all the modern appliances for extracting the gold, wonderful vats of
chemicals where the rich tailings were lying waiting for the chemical
action to take place, ripple beds, then ball mills, pug mills, rock
breakers, and enormous stamping batteries in their various houses; then
last, but not least, the new roasting furnaces with their huge boilers,
and other parts looking like some immense military fortifications; these
are used for smelting, and cost £100,000. There were 20,000 or 30,000
bags of ore waiting for treatment, full of gold. It is wonderful to see
the gold being smelted. To stay in the furnace-room for a minute or two,
even before the furnace-door was opened, was like taking a Turkish-bath.
I was quite content to stay on the outside when it was opened, and to
see the man, dressed in an asbestos suit from head to foot, pull out
with a great iron hook the red-hot pot full of molten gold and pour it
like golden sunshine into a mould. After seeing this man at his work I
thought him a kind of hero, and wondered what he weighed in the asbestos
suit. About 200 yards from the mine are the large and commodious offices,
and the quarters of some of the managers of different departments. The
gold produced from this mine up to the end of November 1901 was 214,485
ounces, and the dividends paid amounted to over £258,750.

[Illustration: A Boulder Mine and Offices from Lake View Consols]

Driving over to the Lake View Mine was not altogether pleasant, as, when
nearly half-way down the steep and stony hill, my horse stumbled and
nearly fell; however, a kindly pedestrian seeing my difficulty came to
my assistance, and, much to my relief, led him down to the foot of the
hill. I then crossed over to Lake View, which is said to be the greatest
gold-producer of this marvellous field, outrivalling even the famed Mount
Morgan in Queensland, which was almost a mountain of gold. Mr. Charles
Kaufman purchased this wonderful mine for a company when he was on a
visit to Australia; seeing the wealth and magnitude of the Kalgoorlie
mines, he did not hesitate to pay the sum of three-quarters of a million
sterling, and to take a quantity of shares for himself, and since that
time he has also purchased other large mines. There is a very large
and efficient staff of experts in their different departments on high
salaries. Lake View Consols, to give the mine its full title, was, until
the advent of Mr. Kaufman, a mine that seemed fated to bad luck. It was
at that time owned by an Adelaide company. The first manager pronounced
it a failure, the second died of typhoid, and the third, Mr. O’Neill,
managed to pay out a dividend of 3_d._ per share! This was the first
dividend ever paid on the field. Since then many dividends of £1 per
share have been made. When Mr. Kaufman purchased Lake View he soon had it
equipped properly and started on a new basis. Now, in place of the meagre
poppet-heads and small shafts, a gallows-frame towers 120 ft. into the
air, and immense shafts, sending up their continuous supply of splendid
ore, give token of the change that has taken place. When you go down the
mine in the “cage,” as they call it, you need only close your eyes and
fancy you are in an elevator. When you get down 100 ft. you step out to
a drive running 1700 ft., then on the north side you go 450 ft., and
must not go any farther, because you are near the Boulder Perseverance
ground, which is another rich mine close by. Here is an immense body of
rich high-grade sulphide ore, 51 ft. wide. Teluro sulphide (in which
telluride is found) and sulphide ores differ from oxidised ore, which
is usually of a light colour and shows the gold freely; the other ores
have a silvery-grey appearance, seldom showing gold, but when treated at
the mills and smelting works they frequently yield a large percentage of
it. Down again the visitor goes in the cage to 500 ft., the mine growing
richer and richer to the bottom. Coming up again, the stope[3] at the
300-foot level,[4] from which such phenomenally rich telluride, assaying
150 ounces to the ton, has been taken, shines like a star-bespangled
sky on a dark night. The shares in this great mine have been sold at £28
10_s._ At that time the production was one hundred and twenty thousand
pounds worth of gold per month. The immense quantity of huge timber down
below is astounding. I am sure there must be enough used in timbering
this great mine to build a town. The level at the 100-foot is quite
large enough to give a ball in; the electric light and electric bells
are all ready, and the air is so beautifully cool that this would be an
ideal place for a ball on a hot summer’s night. The production from this
wonderful mine has been enormous, and when one has been down and seen
all I saw below, one does not wonder at it; it is a perfect marvel of
richness. I went over all the drives, stopes, cross-cuts, &c., and saw
everything. In place of men pushing the trucks of ore below, as is the
case in other mines, horses were drawing 8 or 9 trucks at a time. One
of the horses is a real pet with the miners, and at crib-time (mid-day,
dinner-time) he is unfastened and allowed to walk about the drive. He
always finds out where the men are, and comes up for bread or cake, which
he eats with a relish. He is lowered down the mine every morning in a
net, and is as quiet as a lamb now; at first, when he was very young,
he did not like the lowering process at all, but he has since got quite
used to it. Such bodies of rich ore have been opened up that years will
be occupied in treating it, the plant belonging to the mine not being
yet large enough to cope with the quantity. After the magnitude of the
under workings, nothing surprised me on the top, although the rumble and
stamping of the batteries, the hum of the mighty machines, the beautiful
bright engines that seem to work with perpetual motion, the enormous
furnaces, the magnificent cyanide plant, with its wonderful machinery
for extracting the gold, the electricity that seems to fill the air and
almost takes one’s breath away, are all so vast and wonderful that a
sense of something like awe came over one, and I was not sorry to get
into the open air again and see the blue sky above me.

Only five years ago a miner returned to Adelaide, South Australia, from
the West, and called on a sharebroker, giving him 500 Lake View shares to
sell at as high a price as possible. They were sold for a few shillings,
and when the miner got his cheque he remarked “he was sorry for the
‘bloke’ who bought them, as he had been working on the mine and knew she
was no good.” Those 500 shares would now be worth several fortunes to
that miner had he kept them. The biter was bitten; I wonder how he feels
at the present day about it?

[Illustration: Overlooking the Great Boulder]

That Mr. G. Brookman, of Adelaide, was certain five years ago of the
great future of Lake View Consols is shown by a piece of paper with his
calculations on it, now in the possession of Mr. Fotheringham, also of
Adelaide, which reads as follows:—

“Reef on Lake View, 3000 feet long, 100 feet deep, equal to 300,000
feet, 6 feet wide, equal to 1,800,000 cub. feet, equal to 140,000 tons;
3 ounces to the ton, equal to 420,000 ounces; £4 per ounce, equal to
£1,680,000; allow £420,000 for cost of raising and crushing, &c., leaves
£1,260,000 available for dividends.”

This great mine stands first in the field as a gold-producer, the total
yield in 1900 being 528,368 ounces, and dividends at the time of writing
having been paid to the amount of £1,187,500 (one million one hundred
and eighty-seven thousand five hundred pounds). When Brookman and Pearce
arrived at Coolgardie where Bayley found his Eldorado, and not finding
much there, went on to what was then called Hannan’s, now Kalgoorlie,
to look at Cassidy’s Claim, they saw plenty of the golden metal to
gladden their eyes. They began to work upon a reef, but Mr. Pearce, in
his wanderings around the then Bush in spare time, was attracted to some
ironstone hills. He prospected about, and was so well satisfied that he
and his mate shifted camp and began to work on what is now the Ivanhoe
property. Not keeping exactly within the pegged ground, they discovered
a rich leader (a small lode running into a large one) not far from the
camp. This was the first gold found on the Great Boulder. They then
pegged out 20 acres around each find, and keeping their good fortune to
themselves (knowing that a still tongue makes a wise head), soon pegged
out what is now Lake View Consols. The present value of these syndicate
holdings, if realised, would be about £30,000,000! So little was thought
of the leases at first that they were called “Brookman’s Sheep Farms.”

I have a few pieces of really fabulously rich telluride that were
given to me from the same place, the 300-foot level, which yielded the
magnificent specimens sent to the Glasgow Exhibition. The veins of the
precious stuff were nearly four inches thick. They are so handsome that
it seems almost a pity to break them up and turn them into what is called
“filthy lucre.”

After coming from the mine I, with the rest of a party that I had been so
fortunate as to meet on my visit here, was hospitably entertained by the
manager. I then resumed my journey. This time I thought myself growing
so clever, and beginning to know so much travelling alone, that, seeing
an opening between two large heaps of what I afterwards discovered to be
rich tailings (from the crushings of the ore from which all the gold has
not been extracted, and when treated by cyanide, which is a solution for
extracting every particle of it, often gives good returns), I started to
take a short cut through. I had, however, not thought of the air-tram
going along with its freight of ore overhead, and just as we were going
through the opening whirl it went along, frightening the poor horse,
who nearly upset the trap. But a second time that day I was saved to
continue my journey, this time by two miners, who were just emerging from
a shed close by, and who said, “Private road, missus.” However, on seeing
my look of distress, and on my mentioning my business as a lady explorer,
they let me pass on my way again rejoicing. From the side of Lake View
on which I now was, a totally different view presented itself. The large
buildings of the mine completely block the township of the Boulder, and
for a mile ahead nothing can be seen but mines, mines, mines, and on the
flats tents, Hessian camps, offices, and mine-managers’ houses. Many
good-sized places about here are boarding-houses. The majority of the
men camp and cook for themselves, but some of them merely sleep in their
tents and take their meals at the above-mentioned houses, usually looked
after by two or three women, who do the mending and washing required.
They speak in highest terms of the conduct of all the men; indeed, from
what I saw and heard, the camps are very well conducted, and I am sure
I have met with the greatest kindness and politeness from the mining
community in general. I drove all round these mines and camps, but only
stopped once to get a cup of tea at one of the houses, where I found the
housekeeper most kind and communicative.

[Illustration: Hannan’s Star Mine]

Hannan’s Star, Boulder Main Reef, and Chaffer’s are the mines adjacent to
the one I next stopped at—the Golden Horseshoe. Here I interviewed Mr.
Sutherland, the manager, at the office, who sent for the underground boss
(as he is termed), Mr. Morgan, to show me over the mine. To give an idea
of the wealth of this famous mine I must tell you that, when shares were
£8 each, such magnificent finds of gold were made that they went up in
value to £51! On going below, Mr. Morgan courteously showed me all over
the golden mine which has proved so profitable. He also showed me some
of the most magnificent gold, and specimens I have ever seen. These were
some of those that were found when the shares went up to the tremendous
price before mentioned. Sometimes the gold is found in solid pieces;
when mixed with quartz, the pieces are called “specimens.” We went down
to the 200-foot level, and saw the wonderful place where the finds ran
for weeks at a rate of 80 ounces and 90 ounces to the ton; 2000 ounces,
valued at £8000, were won in a few days. This was oxidised ore, and at
the same level is still abundant, but not quite so rich as the above
quotations. We then proceeded to the 400-foot level, where more rich
ore and wonderful workings were seen. Then along a drive down another
shaft to the 700-foot level, through stopes and cross-cuts, picking out
more specimens until I was fairly bewildered. Coming up we stopped at
the 400-foot level, where the rich sulpho-telluride ore showed free gold
quite plainly. Mr. C. D. Rose, the chairman of this mine, estimates that
the monthly production from oxidised ores alone will reach 14,000 ounces,
and will be maintained at that. This estimation has been more than
reached, one month’s production of the mine since that time having been
15,280 ounces of gold.

[Illustration: The Ivanhoe Mine]

When the mine’s great richness was first becoming apparent, a very
jovial meeting of the shareholders was held. The shares had then made
a big jump to £17. Previous to the time when the shares in the Golden
Horseshoe were £7 10_s._ a strong “bear” attack was made on them. (A
“bear,” in mining parlance, is a speculator who sells stock he does not
possess, with the idea of being able to purchase at a cheaper price
later on.) The mine was at that time “jumped” on account of some legal
technicality; but, instead of this producing the desired effect of a
fall in prices, the shares shortly afterwards rose, and the “jumpers”
made a hasty retreat, sadder but wiser men. A director of this mine told
me of the time, not very long past, when he advised his friends to buy
shares up to as he had himself done. Some of them acted on his advice,
but shortly afterwards the shares went down to £2 10_s._ He was then
overwhelmed with inquiries as to what was the matter. After making a
strict examination of the Golden Horseshoe properties, and seeing the
large bodies of valuable ore below, this gentleman’s advice was to stick
to the shares. Shortly afterwards they rose to £5 and £6, and now, as I
before said, they have been as high as £51 per share, and up to 19 ounces
of gold to the ton of ore has been got. This speaks for itself, and no
doubt it is one of the best mines in the world. I was told a story about
this mine, which at first I thought too incredible to be taken seriously,
but which I am assured is a fact. It is stated that an old lady recently
entered a London broker’s office and produced the certificates for
various shares which she said she wanted to dispose of, saying she would
take £5 for the lot. The broker found most of them to be shares of a
valueless kind, but one represented 500 Golden Horseshoes, which he sent
into the market and sold at £40 each, so that the old lady, instead of
getting £5 for her entire collection, was credited with £20,000 for one
slip of paper alone!

I made my next move onwards along a narrow road between two hills. On
one side is the Ivanhoe, and on the other that marvellous mine the Great
Boulder. This is the second on the list as champion gold-producer, having
produced over 449,726 ounces. If each ounce of gold were to be coined
into four sovereigns, these ounces would represent over a million and a
half of money, of which £910,000 has been distributed in dividends. Mr.
George Inglis, well-known in England and on the Continent, was one of
the foundation members of the board of the Great Boulder Mine, and was
instrumental in finding some of the working capital of the company, and
has been deeply interested in it ever since its inception. The offices of
this great mine are close to it. I had to wait some little time before
seeing any one who would conduct me round, everybody seeming to be up to
their eyes in business. I accordingly mounted a hill to the open door of
a large building, which I found to be the amalgamators’ room. Here was a
feast of gold in bars, in ingots, in oval shape. It had just been brought
from the smelting-room, and the police escort was waiting to take it into
the bank at Kalgoorlie. I was fortunate in arriving at the time I did.
I had seen gold before, but never to this extent in its newly smelted
state; it was a revelation.

The manager, Mr. Hamilton, was very courteous to me, and on my telling
him I wished to go underground at once acceded to my request. It was
hardly necessary to show him the letter I carried with me from the
Minister of Mines, Perth, asking all managers to extend their courtesy
and help to me in my travels on the goldfields. On arrival at the shaft,
a crowd of men had just come up, and another crowd were waiting to go
below; they were changing “shift,” which is the term used to denote
their working time of eight hours. During the week the mines never
stop working, consequently relays of men are required. In these shifts
their hours of labour are changed at certain times, and so the men are
sometimes on what is termed day shift or night shift.

[Illustration: Mr. Zebina Lane]

When I descended the 800-foot level the men who were there were taking
their mid-day meal, most of them sitting down on the great stones. Their
bright dinner cans, which contain three compartments, one for tea, one
for bread and meat, and one for sweets, looked very clean and nice, while
the many candles that lit up the otherwise gloomy cavern, the picks,
shovels, and other mining implements lying about, helped to make up a
characteristic scene of underground life.

The diamond drill was at work. It was wonderful to see how the diamond
penetrated the hard rock, for the quartz must be nearly as hard as the
diamonds are themselves. Mr. Hamilton gave me a piece of the core of the
drill, which I shall place among my treasures from the mines. I peered
down the 300 feet below where I was, as the mine went down to 1100 feet,
but it was so dark and wet that I had no wish to descend any farther, so
mounting the cage I again ascended, stopping at two of the other levels
and climbing all around them, and seeing all the wonders beneath the
earth, and collecting more specimens.




CHAPTER XVIII

    The Ivanhoe—The Famous Stope—Climbing the Ladders—Boulder
    Perseverance—The Rock Drill—Down 500 Feet in a Bucket—Blasting
    the Rock—British Westralia Syndicate—Mr. Frank Gardner and our
    own Zeb. Lane—Kalgoorlie again—Wages on the Mines—Yield of the
    Goldfields.


The Ivanhoe Mine is quite close to the Great Boulder, and next morning
I set out to take a look at that, although I must confess I was getting
weary, having walked many miles underground in the last few days.
However, I was determined to go over the 6 biggest mines of the field,
so away I went. The manager received me in the kindest manner, and
offered me his room to prepare in, and told everybody to do everything
I wished, as he had important business at Lake View, and could not take
me down himself. The important business afterwards turned out to be that
he was taking over the charge of the Lake View Consols as well as the
Ivanhoe. Accompanied by three gentlemen visitors and the underground
manager, I descended the great Ivanhoe Mine. I had a particular wish
to see an enormous stope, 1500 feet long, about which I had heard; so
at the 600-foot level we got out and went along a long drive until we
came to what looked like a hanging ladder. If I wanted to see the famous
stope I had to mount this ladder. It was very narrow, and I felt rather
dubious of my climbing powers; however, it was only about 60 feet high,
so I ventured. I climbed up very carefully and got into the stope quite
safely. After walking along for a few feet I found we had to bend down
to get along; next we came to a small aperture through which we had to
creep; then we could not walk any more, but had to go on our hands and
knees, like our Darwinian ancestors. I had not bargained for this, but
having come down below to go over the 1500-foot stope, I went on. So,
gradually creeping and sometimes walking doubled up, we got to the end
where the men were working. They all threw down their picks and spades
and looked in amazement at me coming along that stope; they never did
it. There was a ladder over 100-ft. long by which they went up and down
to their work. I had been told about this ladder, but I felt afraid of
the 100 feet ascent, and preferred walking, as I thought, through the
stope. I must here explain that the stope was originally quite deep
enough for any one to walk comfortably in, but after the lodes—mineral
veins containing ore—have been taken out, the stopes are filled in with
refuse tailings, which have been treated by cyanide, and later thrown out
for refuse and used as filling-in stuff. Of this I had traversed 1500
feet, bumping my head innumerable times against the hanging wall. Oh!
I was tired, and the worst of it was that I had to go back, or else go
down in mid-air on a 100-foot ladder. After sitting on a boulder for a
few minutes’ rest, and accepting many compliments from the miners about
my courage, I decided to descend the ladder, which I did in fear and
trembling, but got safely to the bottom, for which I felt duly thankful;
and we went down to another level, and saw much more rich stone waiting
to be taken up; then up to the 400-foot, where the sulpho-telluride ore,
worth 10 ounces to the ton, was being taken out; then to the 200-foot
level, where the rich oxidised ore is. There is a million’s worth of ore
at sight here, and yet in the first year of the mine’s existence many
shares were forfeited for non-payment of 6_d._ calls. The market value is
now over £2,000,000; production of gold, 304,848 ounces.

[Illustration: Roll-up at the Boulder Perseverance Mine]

After coming up from the Ivanhoe Mine, a telephone message was given
me that the underground manager, Mr. Flynn was waiting at the Boulder
Perseverance Mine to show me over that. So, hastily untying my horse, who
had been taking his food under the shade of the offices of the Ivanhoe,
I hurriedly drove over to the Boulder Perseverance, and after making a
change in my toilet, such as was necessary, jumped into the cage and went
swiftly down to the 300-foot level. Here we stopped and walked through
the long drive to the stopes, where much richness was to be seen; it was
a veritable jewellers’ warehouse. Mr. Flynn gave me a pick and told me
I could knock out some sulphide ore for myself, which I did, and many
beautiful specimens from this mine are in my collection. While here I
heard a tremendous rumbling noise, and thought the mine was falling in.
On inquiry I found that the miners were blasting rock 200 feet below us
at the 500-foot level. I expressed a wish to go there, and Mr. Flynn said
it would not be safe for half an hour, and then I should have to go down
in a bucket, as the cage only went to the 300-foot level. After walking
all over the stopes on this level we went up to the 200-foot level, and
I saw all the wonderful oxidised ore. I learned much during my travels
underground. Oxidised ore is always found on the top levels. At a depth
of 300 feet the sulphide ore, which contains telluride, is reached.

Going through the various drives we often met miners walking along to
different parts of the mine. We were all carrying candles, so could
peer into each other’s faces, and the look of surprise on some of them
at seeing a strange lady rambling about underground was quite amusing.
Then we would come on a group of workmen at a stope; then sounds of the
rock-drill would make me curious to go in its direction. The heat is
fearful in places where the rock-drill is at work making holes for the
dynamite charge which is to blast out tons of rock. The men were just
going to begin a new hole, so I asked to be allowed to start it. The
sensation was like an electric battery; I held the drill too tight, I
suppose. However, I persevered for fully five minutes, and when we looked
at the machine I was told I had drilled quite a quarter of an inch of
rock, so I felt very proud, especially as they told me no lady had ever
touched the rock-drills down here before.

[Illustration: Lane’s Shaft, Boulder Perseverance Mine]

By this time I was ready to go down in the bucket, so we took another
walk of about a quarter of a mile along the drive to another shaft called
Lane’s Shaft, named after Mr. Zebina Lane. In this shaft was the bucket.
Never having been in a bucket before for the purpose of a downward
journey of 200 feet I felt a tiny bit nervous. However, the journey was
perfectly safe, and when I arrived at the bottom I saw a grand sight
which I shall never forget. There was still much smoke hanging about from
the blasting. Some 20 men with candles alight were waiting about in the
gloom, some of them partly black from handling powder. Over 70 tons of
sulphide ore had just been blasted out, and lay about in great pieces
and boulders. The cave—for such it looked—fairly sparkled with richness,
the different minerals in the sulphide rock shining like diamonds. I
climbed over the great boulders and went all over the stope, picking out
any sparkling bits that took my fancy, and a miner was sent on ahead to
try the sides for fear of any loose rock falling on me. The lode here is
41 feet wide, and very rich indeed. It was pretty rough climbing, I can
assure you, but I would not have missed it on any account. On the return
journey I went up the entire 500-foot shaft in the bucket, and although
deeply interested by all I saw, I was not sorry to breathe once more in
the sunshine away from dynamite and rocks.

Some idea of the wealth of this mine may be given by the fact that the
last shipment from the western lode averaged 17 ounces per ton. The
high-grade oxidised ore in the upper levels, of which I spoke before, is
an immensely rich body of mineral, continuing in richness for an eighth
of a mile. Another lode, on a lower level, near the Lake View Consols,
is nearly three-quarters of a mile long, and so phenomenally wide and
rich that even Americans, who are generally apt to throw cold water on
our mines, admit that its equal is unknown in the world; in fact, the
Boulder Perseverance shows every sign of becoming the richest mine on the
field, for the more it is opened up the better it looks and the richer it
becomes.

Mr. Zebina Lane and Mr. Frank Gardner, besides controlling the Boulder
Perseverance, the Boulder Bonanza, Great Boulder South, and other rich
mines in Western Australia, have more recently taken over Hannan’s Public
Crushing Company, Central Australian Exploration Syndicate, and Collie
Coalfields, lately floated with a capital of £150,000. At the banquet
given to Mr. Lane last year previous to his departure for London, he said
that on this coalfield there was enough coal at sight to last the colony
for 20 years. It was Mr. Lane who in 1893 placed the now wonderful
Great Boulder Mine before London investors. The Boulder Perseverance
Mine shares could at that time be bought for a few shillings, now they
are of high value, and Mr. Lane has made a large fortune out of his
various mining transactions. Among the properties in Western Australia
turning out among them the enormous quantities of gold of which we know,
the properties partly controlled by Mr. Lane have turned out nearly
half. Western Australia has no truer friend than he; he battled on
behalf of the colony for years before prosperity came; went all over the
goldfields, endured all kinds of hardships on the arid plains, and earned
his success fairly. The other two gold mines on the Kalgoorlie field
belonging to the British Westralia Syndicate, and under the part control
of Mr. Lane, namely, the Great Boulder South and Boulder Bonanza, are
lower down the field, over the Golden Hill, and near the Great Boulder
and Lake View Consols. The aforesaid mines join each other, and no
doubt the continuation of the famous lodes of these great mines will be
eventually picked up by the Great Boulder South and Bonanza. The diamond
drill is being used to advantage, and great things may be looked for in
the future from its developments.

The British Westralia Syndicate was formed by Messrs. F. L. Gardner and
Zebina Lane in October 1894, and registered on the 6th of that month
with a capital of £80,000 fully paid-up shares, the Syndicate really
consisting of only four members, the other two being the late Mr. Barney
Barnato and Mr. Woolf Joel, who was assassinated in Johannesburg.

Since the incorporation of the company, regular dividends of 50 per
cent. per annum have been paid, and last year a 50 per cent. bonus was
divided in addition. As I said before, the shares now stand high in the
market, and show every likelihood of rising to £20. The Syndicate’s
palatial offices in Moorgate Street are, if not the finest, one of the
finest suites in the city of London. Mr. F. L. Gardner is the chairman
of the company, and Mr. Z. Lane the managing director and superintending
engineer.

In addition to the above-mentioned mines, Mr. Lane has recently taken in
hand three properties in the Nannine country, Upper Murchison, all of
which have developed into paying properties and are making good returns.

Mr. F. L. Gardner, chairman of the British Westralia Syndicate and
its offshoots, has long been associated with Australian mining, but
was drawn into West Australian ventures by his old friend Zeb. Lane.
His speculations in Great Boulder, Perseverance, Lake Views, Crushing
Company, Boulder South, and the ever-increasing dividend-paying British
Westralia Syndicate, have amply repaid him for his courage.

An American by birth, with all the strength of mind and will of a big
investor, he is a tower of strength in the market, known as a man
of strict integrity and sound financial position, being in fact a
millionaire, he has now the strongest following in London, and with Mr.
Zebina Lane to engineer the mines which he controls, will soon be, if he
is not already, the biggest man in the Western Australian Market, which
more particularly concerns this book and this colony than any other
market in which he may operate. Pity it is, for the sake of Western
Australia, that we have not more combinations of such straight-going men
as these two have proved themselves to be; then the investing public
would have more confidence in mining speculations, and would certainly
have, in horse-racing phraseology, a run for their money.

[Illustration: _Frank Gardner_]

Mr. Z. Lane, generally known as “Zeb.,” may be described as the pioneer
of successful gold-mining in Western Australia. Born, brought up,
and educated to the mining industry, he for many years successfully
managed the great silver mines of Broken Hill, New South Wales, and was
unanimously elected the first mayor of that city when it grew into a
municipality. He left Broken Hill in 1893, and paid an extended trip
to Western Australia, where, after careful examination, he fixed on
what is now known as the Golden Mile; but as Western Australia was then
so little known, he had difficulty in getting working capital for the
various holdings and had to drop some of them, but pinned his faith to
the Great Boulder and the Perseverance (certainly two of the best), and
floated them both in London amongst his own friends. He started the first
10 stamps on the Boulder on April 10, 1895, afterwards increasing them
by degrees to 30, and has since that date been instrumental in shipping
over 15 tons of gold from the mines under his individual control—surely
a wonderful record in a new waterless country, with so many difficulties
to be contended with! He is a man of few words, but of iron will
and determination, and is one of the most popular men in Western
Australia—has been repeatedly asked to allow himself to be elected to
Parliament and to the Mayorial Chair of Perth, but prefers to look after
his mining interests. Perhaps he is quite right in doing so. He is a
Justice of the Peace for every colony in Australia, is a good public
speaker and debater, and will be greatly missed in Western Australia
should he decide to settle down in London, as many of his co-directors in
the various companies are anxious that he should do.

[Illustration: Hannan’s Public Crushing Company]

Crossing another road I came to the Brookman Boulder, a very fine mine.
Mr. Brookman has amassed a large fortune and settled in Perth, and is
spending his money where he made it, instead of going away to other
countries to live, as most of the lucky people do. Mr. Brookman and
Captain Oats recently paid a visit to Ballarat, the Queen Gold City of
Victoria, and at a banquet given in his honour, Mr. Brookman said that in
a few years Kalgoorlie would, no doubt, be as fine a city as Ballarat, an
opinion with which I most emphatically agree. I must mention that this is
one of the places that caused such a stir in the world fifty years ago,
on account of the wonderful goldfinds there.

Two of the largest nuggets found in the district were the Welcome in
1858, weight 154 lbs., value £8872; and the Welcome Stranger in 1869,
weight 190 lbs., value £9000. I trust this digression will be pardoned.

[Illustration: Central Boulder Mines and Manager’s House]

There are two large and splendidly furnished clubs here, namely, Hannan’s
and Kalgoorlie for the well-to-do, and several institutes, affording
opportunities for reading and recreation to the miners. I must not forget
to mention the fine park, cricket ground, and racecourse.

Having finished my journey round the wonderful mines, I feel how poor
has been my description of them. It has been almost impossible even to
mention half the important discoveries that have been made in these
marvellous chambers of the earth. I have tried to explain some of the
developments that stand out most strikingly. The rapid progress that is
being made in all ways makes it quite safe to say that what has already
been done is as nothing to what will be done in the future, and that
by the time the new century is a few years old, and all the latest
processes of extracting gold from the ores are in full swing, we may hear
of such great returns as will amaze the most incredulous. As I go along
the three miles between Boulder City and Kalgoorlie, and think of the
wonders I have seen, it seems quite safe to say that very soon the whole
three miles will be covered with buildings and the predicted population
of 300,000 an actual fact.

The scale of wages on the field is as follows:—

    MINE MANAGERS’ ASSOCIATION SCALE.

    OCCUPATION.         RATE PER DAY.
                          _s._ _d._
    Timbermen             13    4
    Rock-drill men        13    4
    Miners (wet)          13    4
    Bracemen              11    0
    Truckers              10    6
    Blacksmiths           15    0
    Labourers             10    0
    Carpenters            15    0
    Millmen               13    0
    Batterymen            11    8
    Battery boys           8    4
    Engine drivers, 1st   13    4
    Pitmen                16    8
    Assistants            12    6
    Miners (dry)          11    8
    Plattmen              11    0
    Tool sharpeners       13    4
    Strikers              11    0
    Draymen               11    8
    Fitters               15    0
    Masons                15    0
    Feeders               10    0
    Cranide labourers     11    8
    Engine drivers, 2nd   11    8

There are more than 6500 men working in the Kalgoorlie mines, and over
£28,000 weekly is paid in wages. The cable from the Government to the
Agent-General for Western Australia, London, October 1901, gave the
crushing returns of the colony for that year as 1,580,950 ounces, valued
at £6,007,610, making a total gold production of £27,726,233 sterling.
Several millions of money have been paid to the shareholders of the
various mines in dividends since the Adelaide and Coolgardie Syndicate
took up the ground at the Boulder, and that ground, which was chaffingly
alluded to by the prospector’s friends as a “sheep farm,” has certainly
produced many “golden fleeces.”

The Kalgoorlie field has yielded in its short life over thirty-one
tons of gold, Western Australia’s total output since it first entered
the world’s list as a gold-producer in 1886 is sixty-two tons of solid
gold; now, with the new machinery that is being erected, with the latest
methods for extracting gold from ore, it will not be surprising if the
output from each of our golden giant mines should shortly be doubled.
In all the mines I have been down there is enough amazingly rich ore at
sight to keep the crushing stamps going for years. Miners should be proud
of having brought Western Australia into the position of the greatest
gold-producing country in the world.

The Witwatersrand, South Africa, has but a narrow belt of gold-producing
country, thirty miles long. In Western Australia the auriferous belt is
over one thousand miles in length, and three hundred miles in width, and
out of a territory of 975,920 square miles, the area of the goldfields is
324,111 square miles. Bear raids and slumps may come and go, unscrupulous
speculators may cause depression in the share market through bad reports
for their own gain, “but the gold is here,” and energy, pluck, and
perseverance, will overcome all the difficulties there may be to obtain
it, in this truly golden West.




[Illustration: Saturday Afternoon at Kanowna]




CHAPTER XIX

    Kanowna—The Great Alluvial Rush—Big Nuggets—“The Joker”—Father
    Long’s Golden Sickle—Nobility Represented—Bulong.


Looking at the town of Kanowna, White Feather, at the present time, one
can hardly believe that two years ago there were 20,000 people there. It
is now a quiet settled little town, the outskirts riddled with holes,
like an immense rabbit warren. Even what was once the large cemetery is
now dug up in all directions, with just a little plot fenced in where
burials had really taken place. The other portion, which, owing to the
richness of the surrounding ground, was thrown open for digging, had, of
course, not been used for burial purposes. I first went to Kanowna in
November 1897, at the commencement of the great rush. I wanted to see
a rush on the spot, and accordingly started one morning by coach from
Kalgoorlie. On arrival at Kanowna, quite a stranger, I had to carry my
own portmanteau around and look for a hotel to stay at. There was no
sign of a man about the little town. I afterwards found that all the
men were up at the Lead, as it was called. At this time there were only
three hotels in the town, now there are more than twelve. I was fortunate
enough to secure the only vacant room in Donnelon’s Hotel; so, after
getting off some of the red dust of the 12-mile coach ride I started
for the said Lead, about half a mile from the hotel. When I first saw
it I was amazed, not only at the number of tents and bough-houses, the
thousands of windlasses at work, the thousands of men with tin dishes
washing the ore for gold, the thousands of cradles (not babies’) being
rocked for the same purpose, but at the thousands of men rushing about in
all directions in a state of wild excitement. People at that time came
from all directions to see the wonderful alluvial field—miners to take
up claims, speculators to buy out claims, men to buy gold, men to buy
ore, and plenty of people only as spectators, who wanted to see the gold
as it was washed off. In this, however, they did not always succeed, for
those men who had time to do it had made bough-sheds and pitched tents,
and had their cradles inside, where they could wash their ore in privacy,
and not let everybody know how many ounces would go to the dish. It was
my good fortune to make friends with many of the mining-parties and to
see the gold washed off, often 8 and 10 ounces to the tin dish. Many
nice little slugs were given me by those kindly miners as a souvenir of
my visit. Many days in succession I visited the Lead, as it was called;
much kindness did I receive, and many a billy of tea was boiled for my
refreshment.

At the beginning of the Lead the first claim was held by Sim and Gresson;
the latter joined the second Australian Contingent, and has since been
fighting for our Queen in Africa. George Sim, the original finder of the
rich cement ore, told me that he had worked there for 18 months, with
very poor results, and yet felt sure of ultimate success, so that he was
not surprised when one day he “struck it rich,” as the miners’ saying
goes, and since then he and his partners have been taking out cement,
full of rich gold, as fast as pick and shovel can dig, and have taken
over £10,000 worth of gold out of their ground. The next claim, held
by Morris, Long, and party, also turned out very rich. From 60 tons of
cement they obtained 555 ounces of gold, 200 ounces of this being taken
from the dish, that is, obtained merely by washing the stuff in the
dish and picking out the gold; the rest was treated at the battery. The
cement is a greenish-looking stuff, more like pipeclay than anything I
have ever seen. Most of it crumbles up in the hand when touched, and the
gold is plainly visible, but there are occasionally some hard lumps as
well. There were hundreds of other claims around here, notably that of P.
McManus, Huntington, and party. Poor Paddy McManus has since joined the
great majority. He was one of the best and kindliest of men on the field
and was regretted by all. This claim yielded an enormous quantity of
gold. Then Tassy O’Connor, Doyle, and party’s claims, called the Arctic
Circle and Klondyke, yielded the partners a fortune each. Ninety tons
crushed for Jackson and party yielded the handsome return of 497 ounces
of gold. At Casey’s Claim, the day I was there, they had just washed
off some wonderfully rich coarse gold. They had about 40 ounces of the
precious metal in a frying-pan, no other article being available to hold
it since all the tin dishes were required for gold washing purposes. Some
nice pieces of gold, running to about 27 dwts., are often found in these
dishes.

[Illustration: Deep Lead, Kanowna]

These claims, with numbers of others just as rich, were on the Main,
or Fitzroy Lead; on the right, and to the north, was the North Lead,
where more riches have been found. Eaton and party refused a large sum
for a ninth interest in their claim; they were making hundreds a week,
and none of them felt disposed to sell out. Close to this claim was the
famous Donegal. While I was there four buckets of ore were brought to the
surface thick with gold, and when washed were found to contain nearly
300 ounces. There was great excitement on the Lead that day, although
the miners keep things of that sort as much as possible to themselves.
It is reckoned that £12,000 worth of gold has been obtained from this
claim alone. The Red, White and Blue Company have also taken phenomenal
quantities of gold from their claim near the Donegal, about £600 or £700
worth of gold having been taken from the earth every week. Many of these
men who had now struck such wonderful good luck had previously worked for
years for what in mining parlance is called “tucker” (food). No doubt
pluck and perseverance are the two essentials required, and if everybody
could see the 12,000 miners on Kanowna field as I saw them, and could
hear of all the hardships that the majority of them had endured prior
to striking this rich field, no one would deny that their good fortune
was deserved. Another very rich lead was called the Golden Valley. Here
the ore chiefly obtained was that called “pug”; it proved very rich, but
there was great difficulty in extracting the gold from it until a special
process was discovered. The Death Valley and Cemetery Claims also proved
to be very rich. Enormous quantities of gold were taken from Kanowna
in 12 months; but it is difficult to obtain really accurate returns of
an alluvial field, as many miners keep quantities of their gold, while
others carry it away and sell it at different places; but I saw with my
own eyes the enormous richness of the field, and, if I never see another
alluvial rush, shall consider I was in luck when I saw Kanowna, not only
because of the information I received, the money I made by being advised
in what to speculate, but for the mere sake of seeing the place as it was
in the full tide of its golden glory. There were no very large nuggets at
this rush, but about two years before, at a place called Black Flag, one
weighing 303 ounces was found; it was called “The Joker.” In company with
it were four other nuggets and a piece of quartz containing 60 ounces of
gold. The Joker was an exceptionally bright piece of gold, three-cornered
in shape, with a bit out of one base. The other nuggets weighed 73
ounces, 51 ounces, 37 ounces, and a little over 10 ounces respectively.
All of this gold was found at a depth of 6 feet, and in the course of one
week’s work, the total weight being 537 ounces. One day all Kanowna and
the surrounding country were roused to a state of tremendous excitement
by the report spread by Father Long, the parish priest, that an enormous
nugget, weighing 1636 ounces, valued at £6500, had been found close by,
and had been named the Sacred Nugget, or the “Golden Sickle.” When the
news reached Koolgarlie and Coolgardie, parties were organised, horses
and buggies, cabs, carts, bicycles, and every other available vehicle
taken possession of, and thousands of persons started for Kanowna field.
In the meantime no authentic information could be obtained in Kanowna
as to the place from which this tremendous lump of gold had come, the
lucky finders keeping that a profound secret. However, search-parties
were organised, and set off to look for the spot whence the nugget came,
some one having given the slight clue: “It was near the Dry Lake.” Off
the parties went to the neighbourhood indicated, and a very lively drive
they had. It took an hour to reach the Lake, and there a consultation
took place. It was decided to skirt along the Lake, but nothing came in
sight except a boundless track of low bush. Another halt took place, when
a journalist among the search-party, more venturesome than the rest,
climbed a steep hill, and at once gave a loud “Hullo!” Every one thought
the object of the journey had been attained. The spy had discovered
tents some distance away. Off went the horses and vehicles at a hard
gallop. The tents were all a dream, however. There were no tents, and
there was nothing in sight. It was resolved to turn round and try in
another direction. At another likely spot a halt was again made, and here
occurred the most amusing incident. One of the vehicles had been left
by all its occupants except a lady. Everybody was engaged in individual
searching when a loud cry from the lady recalled every one to the drag.
Perhaps she had been more fortunate. “Look there!” said she; “look at
all these men running and shouting;” and lo and behold, about 200 men
were seen rushing down an adjacent hill toward the party, each with a
branch of a tree. It appeared, however, that the newcomers had only been
following the conveyances. Off went the vehicles again, down the Lake,
up the Lake, and round the Lake. Everywhere did these parties go, but
no gold or signs of habitation were seen. Father Long was besieged by
people, over 300 visiting his camp to find out where the lucky spot was,
but the priest said it was told to him under the seal, and he could not
divulge the spot. After searching all over the country near to Kanowna
no discoveries were made, and the searchers returned sadder but wiser
men. You may be sure Father Long came in for no small share of abuse from
thousands of disappointed people. The truth of this remarkable story has
never come to light, but it is quite certain that no such nugget was ever
found, no official notice of it having been recorded, and no bank ever
having had charge of it. Father Long has since passed away from earth and
nuggets, dying of typhoid fever in Perth Hospital in May 1899, and what
was his share in reporting the find will never now be known. Many people
are inclined to think that Father Long really thought he did see the
nugget, and therefore spoke of it in good faith. A version of the affair
given me by a good authority at Kanowna, after it had all blown over, was
that a certain party of men, who owned one of the richest claims in the
neighbourhood, had all the gold they had collected for some time at one
of the hotels and that one of the partners, an Irishman, placed all the
lumps and pieces of gold together in the form of a sickle, and called it
the “Golden Sickle,” the collection of pieces looking exactly like a huge
lump of gold. Father Long, being near at hand, was invited to see the
splendid specimen, which he immediately blessed and called the “Sacred
Nugget.” The partners did not undeceive him, but bound him to secrecy
concerning the names of the party who found it and the alleged locality
from whence it came. This promise poor Father Long faithfully kept,
thereby gaining for himself the condemnation of the multitude. None of
the partners were brave enough to own what they had done, and Father Long
had to bear the burden to the last.

[Illustration: Alluvial Diggings, Kanowna]

In those times Kanowna was a place never to be forgotten. At night, after
work was over, thousands of men used to flock into the little town,
and the three hotels being quite inadequate to their wants, grog-shops
existed in dozens and plied a big trade. I must say, however, that,
considering all things, Kanowna was in general strikingly orderly and
peaceful. Of course there were occasional fights. We witnessed several
from the balcony of the hotel, the only place where we could sit in the
hot summer evenings. The hotel was crowded, hundreds were unable to get
served, and men were waiting five deep in the bars; all drinks cost
1_s._ The hotel-keepers made rapid fortunes from the bars, and were,
besides, partners in claims on the Lead. Two hundred and thirty thousand
ounces of gold have been obtained from this great alluvial field. It
is well known that miners, more especially the prospectors, are very
kind-hearted and resourceful men. If they “strike it rich” they spend
money freely, and are generous to a fault to any old mates they may
meet who have not been so fortunate as themselves. It cannot be denied
that, for strong and able-bodied young men, life in the West, with its
freedom and many chances of good luck, is one not to be despised. Men
from surprisingly different classes are to be met on the goldfields, and
yet, so to speak, all classes are alike. I met during my travels on the
Lead several university men who were trying their luck with the pick and
shovel, and were not ashamed of their clay-stained moleskins. There are
a good many new chums (arrivals), easily recognisable. The nobility is
also represented; one trooper who was there belonged to a noble family
in England. Another, a sprig of Scotch nobility, was on one of the
large mines adjacent to Kanowna, and was said to be a fine fellow and
universally liked. One meets quite a large proportion of men and women
recently arrived from the old country, who seem always to make for the
goldfields by preference, while most Australians seem to love the towns
and want to stay there. There are several deep-level mines within a short
distance of Kanowna, none of them, however, calling for special mention,
with the exception of the White Feather Main Reefs, which occasionally
gives a good yield, and the managers of which look on it as having better
things still in store; recent crushings have been highly satisfactory,
and future ones are expected largely to increase the profits of the
shareholders.

Bulong is a mining township 12 miles from Kanowna, and as several good
finds have been made there, one of 500 ounces of gold, I should not be at
all surprised to hear of a more sensational find some day, followed by
the inevitable rush. The Queen Margaret Mine has given good returns, and
there are a number of men on the alluvial ground who make a good living,
and a little to spare, all the year round. The ground has not been
thoroughly prospected yet, and its worth remains to be decided. Sixteen
miles from Bulong, at Black Hills, two men, who had been prospecting,
lately came across a nice little find of 2000 ounces of gold from a few
tons of quartz. The usual subsequent rush to rich finds of course took
place. In October 1900 a large nugget weighing 13 lb. was found by a man
named Eddy, at Kurnalpi, about 40 miles from here, not 200 yards from
the place where the nugget weighing 168 ounces was found the year before
by John Symonds. Kurnalpi has been one of the richest districts of the
goldfields, and who knows how soon some still more sensational finds may
startle us all!




[Illustration: Hill End Mine—Broad Arrow]




CHAPTER XX

    Broad Arrow—Menzies—Rich Mines—Lady Shenton—Luncheon in the
    Caverns of the Earth—Hon. H. J. Saunders—Welcome Tea and
    Cake—Native Murder—A Lost Prospector—Cake of Gold—Box-seat of
    the Coach—Mount Malcolm—Gold Escort—Windmills and Fresh Water.


I went back to Kalgoorlie this time by train, the railway having now been
open over twelve months; stayed at Wilkie’s Hotel, opposite the station,
and found it most comfortable as well as convenient. Wilkie Brothers, who
were the successful tenderers for the Coolgardie Railway (which brought
them a profit of £300,000) own this hotel. The next morning I set out for
more goldfields, and arrived at the Menzies after an interesting journey
through various small townships, Paddington and Broad Arrow being the
best. There are some large mines at Paddington giving excellent returns.
Broad Arrow, a very nice little place, has lately been the scene of an
alluvial rush, and the usual population of 300 was quickly increased
to 3000. There are a post-office, four hotels, several stores, and a
good many shops, as well as some nice dwelling-houses. It is now a very
thriving place of some importance and a scene of bustling activity.
Shops which a short time ago would not let at any price now command such
rents as their owners scarcely dreamed would ever be possible. There
are several very rich claims which have bottomed on rich gold; in fact,
gold is everywhere. The extent and value of the golden ground can only be
conjectured. One claim, called the Blue Duck, was exceptionally good; so
is the Maltese Cross; while the Bird’s Nest is a veritable golden hole.
The names of these claims struck me as being very peculiar; another rich
one, owned by men who, until they struck this, had had a continued stream
of ill-luck, is called the Battlers’ Reward, and indeed they richly
deserved their splendid find, the gold from which stands out to the wash
in halfpenny-weight pieces.

Farther along the line is Bardoc, from which place much rich gold has
been won. It was at Bardoc that an accident recently happened in one of
the mines, a poor man being killed by five tons of rock falling on him.

Twenty-six miles before we reached Menzies was Goongarrie, which a few
years ago made a great sensation in the mining world.

[Illustration: Part of Lady Shenton Battery]

Menzies was the nicest small mining town I had seen. There was a
wonderful air of prosperity about it. As I walked up the principal
street it seemed almost to say, “This is a good place,” and the people
were extremely kind to the stranger in their midst. Until quite recently
Menzies was one of the “back-block” towns, only accessible by coach from
Kalgoorlie, a distance of 90 miles. The people in what we Australians
call coach-towns always seem more genial and warm-hearted than those
who can pop into a train and be whirled along to the metropolis, and
Menzies only having had the train service recently has not had time to
get spoiled. I think it is because of their isolation that people in
these places, as a rule, hail strange faces with more pleasure than
others do. There are some very nice houses in Menzies, and the hotels
are especially good. The Grand Hotel (I can speak from experience) is a
model of comfort. A very well-built post-office and court-house adorn the
town, and there are many other substantial buildings in the place, which
is, no doubt, a most important centre of business and industry, and
which has made great strides during the last twelve months, especially
since it received a new impetus from the advent of the railway. The
town is literally surrounded by mines, not only of gold; copper has
been found near in lodes of 50 feet wide, that bear 5 dwts. of gold as
well as 60 per cent. of copper. Menzies is quite a young town, and is
named after Mr. Menzies, the explorer, who, in 1894, went prospecting
from Kalgoorlie to see if he could discover any more Kalgoorlies. After
travelling some weeks he discovered some rich “shows,” and telegraphed to
the syndicate, of which Sir George Shenton and the Hon. H. J. Saunders
are head, to that effect. Application for ground was made and accepted,
and works afterwards commenced, with what success may be imagined from
the results of that noble mine the Lady Shenton, which, since 1897,
has paid 12 dividends of over £88,000, besides expending large sums of
money on machinery, &c. The Lady Shenton Mine occupies 36 acres of land.
There is a splendid electric-light installation, both on the surface and
underground, at the main shaft as well as in the crushing-sheds, and
in many other places where it is useful. The total output of the mine
is 97,278 ounces of smelted gold, exclusive of gold from tailings and
concentrates, the latter sometimes giving a very high percentage of gold,
since as much as 327 ounces had been taken from 73 tons when I was there;
14,000 tons of tailings were awaiting treatment. Some time ago, when Sir
Gerard Smith visited the mine, luncheon was served to the visitors in the
300-foot level. I happened to be at the Lady Shenton Mine at “crib” time,
and after “crib” the miners went out with their football to have a game
before beginning work again. They were fine looking specimens of colonial
manhood, and seemed thoroughly to enjoy their friendly game.

The sleeping tents of the miners are some little distance from the mine,
but there were several dinner tents close by. The men form themselves
into little parties of five or six, taking it in turns to act as house
boy, or, as I should say, tent boy. In the day time the menu is cold, and
looking at the stock of tins of preserved meats (elegantly termed tinned
dog), fish, jam, milk, cake, and vegetables, it is easy to see that
they do not neglect their meals. Why should they, since they are in the
receipt of high and regular wages?

The next large mine is the Queensland Menzies, from which there have
been large returns. There are some other first-class mines from which
great things are expected. Four miles from Menzies is Kensington, where
there are more good mines, also two splendid breweries. I next travelled
across the country for about four miles, all alone, with only the pony
I was driving for company; but happening, with my usual luck, to strike
the right track and not get lost, I came to the Four Mile, where there
is a little township (small settlement), and a magnificent mine called
the Menzies Consolidated. There are 120 men engaged on this mine, who
form quite a little colony by themselves. There is a fine tennis court,
where several of the officials of the mine were enjoying a game. Mrs.
Strickland, the sub-manager’s wife, insisted on getting tea and cake for
me, and seeing that my horse also was refreshed after the heat of the
day. On my way back to Menzies by another road, a metalled one this time,
I passed many prospectors and dry-blowers, who all seemed quite satisfied
with what they were getting. When I got in sight of Menzies I took a
short cut through the Bush, and found I had to pass through abandoned
alluvial diggings and several shut-down mines. I was glad to get back
again on to the hard road and to Menzies, for the shades of night were
falling fast. Next morning I learned from the paper that a murder had
been committed by natives and the body found near Kensington the day
before. I must have passed quite close to it, and am very glad I did not
see it. Many crimes are committed in these remote parts, the perpetrators
of which are never discovered. A long-standing mystery has just been
solved: a man named McInnes disappeared about two years ago; he was known
to be a thorough Bushman, and fora few days no notice was taken of his
disappearance. However, as he did not return search-parties went out to
look for him, but he was never found. Shortly after his supposed death
his brother came from Victoria, took charge of his affairs, and vowed
that he would never leave the colony until he had solved the mystery of
his brother’s disappearance. This has apparently been done by a blackboy
named Tiger, who found the skeleton of a man at the Bullarchi Rocks, 12
miles off, and Mr. McInnes, the brother of the missing man, being sent
for, identified the remains as those of his long-lost brother. The poor
fellow had evidently, in Western vernacular, “done a perish,” like so
many others, in the course of searching for gold.

An extraordinary meteor was witnessed here a short time ago. A
magnificent ball of fire shot across the heavens from the north-west to
the north-east, leaving an almost straight trail of light behind it. At
the head of this trail of light appeared a ball of fire, which became
gradually diffused around the luminous trail or meteor in convolutions
resembling the movements of a serpent. For some moments the display
bore a likeness of a pillar of light with a serpent twined around it.
Gradually this semblance was transformed into the figure of a man
standing upright, with his arms partly spread and his hands clasped.
This form grew gradually into an attitude as if the figure were about
to spring, the head and shoulders being inclined forwards and the legs
slightly drawn up, and in this attitude it remained till the luminosity,
gradually becoming paler, was absorbed in the silver light of the
breaking day. Altogether the phenomenon lasted from 10 to 15 minutes.

[Illustration: MESSRS. A. FORREST AND J. DUNN ON A PROSPECTING TOUR]

To the west of Menzies is Mulline, where there are some very rich mines.
Mr. De Baun, of Perth, has a mine there from which he recently brought
to Perth a very nice little cake of gold weighing 447 ounces, valued at
£1700. Then on the east side there are Yerilla, Pendinnie, and Eujidine;
here the Nita Mine, lately called the North Fingall, has recently had a
fine crushing. At Pendinnie, 120 miles from Menzies, a find lately took
place, and the scene along the road was a repetition on a smaller scale
of the rush to the Boulder a few years ago. Camel and horse teams crowded
the way, and everybody was smitten with the feverish race to get to the
promising spot; nothing stupendous has yet been found, but the place is
good and fair results have been obtained. The Waihi Mine, about 32 miles
from Menzies, is one of the latest sensations, and promises to be of
great value. Much of the stone is being broken out, showing rich gold,
and, on being tested, gave results from 6 to 20 ounces per ton. Although
only discovered in October 1900, the lucky prospectors in November were
offered £20,000 for the mine by a syndicate, and since then a company has
been floated and over a hundred thousand shares taken up.

I went on by coach to Mount Malcolm from Menzies. Certainly there was not
much but sand and scrub to be seen in the way of scenery. We arrived at
Niagara, the end of the first 30-mile stage, quite ready for dinner at 1
o’clock. This little place did not present a very attractive appearance;
in fact, it was most remarkably dull looking. The mining district of
Niagara is scattered, but there are some good mines about. After the
60-mile coach drive I was very pleased to see the lights of the little
town of Mount Malcolm appear, which is the most typical mining place I
have ever seen. As I strolled down the one street in the morning I said
to myself, “I am indeed getting away from town life, and shall now see
real mining business to my heart’s content.” The coach journey is indeed
terrible, the road being almost one sand patch, and the horses having to
walk a great part of the way, so the sooner the railway comes the better
for all parties concerned. There seemed to be some grass growing about
Malcolm, which was quite a fresh sight for me, and I am sure a boon for
the horses and their owners in these parts, where fodder is so expensive.
Then the beautiful supply of fresh water is a blessing to every one,
and a great aid to the development of the country, the work of digging
for gold being rendered so much easier than in the sterile wastes of
country where water is scarce. Mount Malcolm might almost be called
Windmill Town, on account of the windmills over the wells; nearly all
the public-houses and many private places have their own water supply.
The gold escort had just gone down, taking the month’s gold to Perth.
I saw it start from the post-office, which is quite a nice large one
for a mining township. The warden’s offices, or court-house, are nearly
opposite—such a funny place!—just two Hessian tents with bough-sheds
built over to protect them from the sun. (A new warden’s office has
since been built.) There is no lock-up here, so any one who misbehaves
is chained to a small tree not far from the court-house and left there
all night. This seemed to me a custom more fit for the barbarous dark
ages than this enlightened century. A little while ago a man was chained
up for being intoxicated. It appears he woke from his tipsy sleep in the
night and felt very thirsty. He tried to get the chain off his leg, but
could not. The tree they had chained him to that night did not happen to
be firm enough in the ground, for he pulled and pulled until he got it
uprooted, and then made his way down the street to an hotel, dragging
chain and tree after him, and with his blanket fluttering in the wind
made night hideous with his cries and woke the whole town with his noise.
As the authorities could not give him a month under the tree for this,
they packed him off in the coach next morning to the nearest gaol.

There are not many mines in the immediate vicinity of Malcolm. The
Richmond Gem was under exemption, also at that time under a cloud, but it
had been a good mine, and will, no doubt, recover itself. Another large
mine about half a mile out is the North Star, where very good results
have been obtained. There are many men employed here, and on Saturday
nights they come into Malcolm and make the little township lively. A
novel procession passed up the street while I was there; it was a new
engine for the Malcolm Mohr battery, drawn by 14 horses, and caused quite
a flutter of excitement. Malcolm was comparatively quiet, as there was a
rush to Mertonville, 18 miles off.

The ex-Premier, at a recent visit, said that when he was last in the
district, 30 years ago, he stood on and named Mount Malcolm, and in
those days never thought that it would be the centre of a great mining
district. On the earlier occasion he was at the head of a small exploring
expedition sent to see whether the reports of the natives that white men
had been murdered there were true; it was thought that these white men
might be members of Leichhardt’s expedition.

During my stay at Mount Malcolm I was shown many really beautiful
specimens by the managers of some of the principal mines. Many of these
were from deep levels, and would, I am sure, much surprise many people
who are sceptical about the richness of the mines in these parts. I
received some very pretty little specimens, souvenirs of my visit,
which I shall always value very much. There is no lack of money; every
one appeared to be well off. The following story may serve to show
what a lucky miner will sometimes do after he has had a good crushing
or found some good specimens. A man who had unearthed a nice slug—30
ounces—in the Lake Way district came into Malcolm for a spree, and on
one occasion, while drinking “not wisely, but too well,” he upbraided
the Hebe behind the counter for wiping the glasses with an old towel.
The delinquent pleaded poverty as an excuse, and straightway the accuser
threw down ten sovereigns and suggested the purchase of a new towel.
Another man at another township, who had a splendid claim, and had taken
over £2000 worth of gold from it, has now not a penny, because every
time he realised on his gold he immediately spent the whole sum in the
hotels. As there are but two of these in the township, they have made
good profits from this man’s mine. When he has spent all his money,
the hotel-keepers put him into a cart and drive him out to the mine to
recover himself. After he has done so, he usually sets to work for a
month or two, and unearths some more nuggets for another spree (drunk).

Shortly after breakfast a few friends and myself drove to some nice
gardens a little way from town. Although the weather was very warm,
everything was delightfully fresh and green, the flowers were smelling
sweetly, and the vegetables a perfect picture. What a blessing is
plenty of fresh water! Any quantity can be got here by digging a
well, and the experts from the Goldfields Water Supply Department,
who were here recently, say that the country between the hills is
really a subterreanean reservoir extending for miles. We drove on to
the Mount, which is five miles farther away. A splendid view of the
surrounding country for fully 30 miles is obtained from the Mount. The
Trigonometrical Station here is very interesting. We had lunch on the
very top of the hill, and returned to Malcolm in good spirits, having
passed a most enjoyable day.

Daseyhurst, 35 miles from Menzies, is a coming goldfield, and North’s
Consolidated Blocks, owned by Mr. J. H. North and Mr. W. E. Millar, may
yet rival the fame of Great Westralian Mount Morgans, of which mine these
gentlemen were the pioneers. Mr. North has recently successfully floated
a company in London to further develop the North Consolidated, and we
expect to hear great things in the future from this promising mine.




[Illustration: Merton’s Find, Mertondale]




CHAPTER XXI

    A New Field—Mertondale—Stupendous Richness—Gold, Gold
    everywhere—A Lucky Prospector—Garden in the Bush—Murrin!
    Murrin!—A Welcome Surprise—Western Australian Mount
    Morgans—Golden Hills—Blackfellows on the Trail—The Lagoon.


My investigations at Mount Malcolm took me some days, so, after a good
rest and pleasant time at that very lively little township, I started one
Friday, at 7 o’clock, for the new goldfield of Mertondale, to which there
was a rush. One morning Malcolm folk woke up to the startling news that
a new and phenomenal rush had begun 18 miles off. Soon everybody was on
the _qui vive_ to see it. All the vehicles in the township were loaded,
and the male population started _en masse_ for the new find. It turned
out to be a great one, and many stories have been told me concerning
the richness of it. There was nothing of great interest on the road to
Mertondale. A bough-shed off the road in the distance, pointed out to
me as the place where a prospector had lately chosen to shuffle off
this mortal coil by cutting his throat, and that just as his claim had
struck gold, was about all that varied the monotony of the journey. The
Australian Peer Mine was the first seen on the road. It was the one at
which Merton and Gallagher were working when Merton went out one day on
his bicycle to look for a lost horse and found the lucky hill which has
since yielded so much gold. Mr. Merton said that when he discovered it
he did not think it was so good, until he commenced breaking the stone
he picked up on it, and found in every instance that it contained gold.
After discovering the reef he applied for a lease, and put on two men to
work at carrying out the quartz. The stone had to be taken two miles to
the Waitekari Battery, but in the short space of two months £3206 worth
of gold was crushed. A short time afterwards, Mr. Merton, who was a poor
man at the time of the find, purchased a 20-head battery, and now crushes
the stone on the spot where it is found. The reef of solid quartz is 100
feet wide, and traverses the whole of Merton’s area of 36 acres. He said
that he would want a higher price, cash down, for his holding than has
ever been paid for any mining property in Western Australia; so, from a
poor man, a few months have made this lucky prospector a millionaire.
On arriving at Mertondale the sound of the battery waked the stillness
of the morning. The township is very small as yet, merely a few Hessian
houses and tents, but I saw before me the hill, with the battery in full
work, in which I was interested. So I asked the driver of the coach to
take me there, which he did as a very great favour, for he was carrying
the mail and had not yet been to the Bush-house post-office. However, as
it was a very hot day, gallantry to the fair sex prevailed and the mail
had to wait. I got down from the coach at the foot of the hill, and at
the battery-house found Mr. Robinson, the manager, who kindly took me
round and showed me everything of interest. First he went to the spot
where Merton picked up the first rich stone. Plenty of it was still lying
about. We went down into the open cut (or quarries) where the men were
digging out the stone. I took a pick and dug out a piece myself, striking
rich gold at the first stroke. Several other pieces followed, and I keep
them as specimens. We then went down the underlay shaft, on the western
side of the big quarry. It was 12 feet deep. I got down by means of a
rope, two of the men at the bottom holding their spades against the sides
of the shaft for me to put my feet on. I managed to make a successful
descent and began to use the pick again with much success. I could see
the gold running through the rock quite plainly, so, having permission to
do so, dug out several nice pieces, after which I essayed to climb the
rope to the surface again, and, assisting myself by sticking my feet upon
the jutting pieces of rock on the sides of the shaft, I soon got out of
the rich hole. I then walked all over the hill and found many pieces of
quartz lying about, all containing gold. Mr. Robinson afterwards took me
to the battery and showed me the plates into which the gold and amalgam
run after being crushed by the mill. I scraped some of the rich stuff off
the plates; to my disappointment it looked like silver, but Mr. Robinson
explained to me that this colour is caused by the action of the mercury
used in the process, and that when smelted pure gold appears. Some idea
of the power of the mercury may be given by this fact: I put in paper
the piece which I had scraped off and placed it in my purse, in which
was a gold ring that I had just put there to take to be repaired. Next
morning, when I went to take it out, the gold ring was gone, but a silver
one remained. The jeweller had to retort it (put it in fire) to regain
its colour. Merton’s Hill is, no doubt, a perfect mine of wealth, and,
so far, all on the surface, as the deepest digging then was the 12-foot
shaft I have mentioned. Over £40,000 worth of gold had been taken out in
the few months since the beginning of the rush, besides fully 20,000 tons
of rich stone that will give 7 or 8 ounces to the ton, and as every ounce
is worth nearly £4, a nice little sum is looking at lucky Merton out of
the stone.[5] There are many other claims on the field, but the one on
the hill is the most valuable. It gives gold, gold everywhere. I was so
much taken with this wonderful place that I pegged out an 18-acre lease
for myself, and am hoping to strike a rich patch on it at some not far
distant day. In the Golden West one never knows when luck may come to one.

It was great fun and hard work pegging out that lease. To enable one to
do so, in the first place one must be provided with a miner’s right,
which costs ten shillings per year; this document enables the holder
to take up any ground he or she desires (not previously taken) in
mining country; after the lease has been approved by the Warden of the
Goldfields, one may start and dig or put men on to dig, and the gold
found would be private property; if, however, any one dug and found gold
without these preliminaries, the precious metal would have to be handed
over to the Warden as the property of the Government.

Behold me then (knowing all this, and having secured a miner’s right
before I left Perth) accompanied by some kindly miners and the lady under
whose roof (canvas) I was domiciled, with my sleeves tucked up and a
spade in my hands digging holes for the pegs to be put in, which must
be done personally; as it was an 18-acre lease the distance between the
four pegs was considerable, and required some walking to be done in the
hot and dusty morning. However, I successfully planted my pegs, marked my
number on them, and after paying the fees in the Warden’s Court at Mount
Malcolm on my return, I became a leaseholder.

Another rich find had lately been made at Wilson’s Creek, 30 miles from
this place, by two prospectors named Paddy Crowley and Dick Donovan. Over
twelve months ago they found some alluvial gold there, but until a few
months since nothing phenomenal; then they found a lode at a depth of 10
feet, with rich leaders running in all directions. One of the partners
went into Malcolm the other day with a bagful of specimens weighing 372
ounces, and the other partner is digging out more as fast as he can.
Mr. Hamilton, of the Great Boulder Mine, Kalgoorlie, recently visited
Mertondale, and gave it as his opinion that the place would turn out a
second Great Boulder and the Flying Pig Mine a second Golden Horseshoe.
As yet all the gold obtained has been found near the surface, and if the
deposit continues down lower the possibility of incredible wealth lies
in this wonderful spot. As yet Western Australia’s surface seems only to
have been scratched in a few places. If the bodies of ore prove to go
down, Mertondale bids fair to outrival the Boulder, Kalgoorlie.

[Illustration: MR. ALICK FORREST INSPECTING DUNN’S SHAFT NEAR MOUNT
MORGANS]

The weather being intensely hot—109°—I decided to return to Malcolm in
the moonlight, and a friend succeeded, after a great deal of trouble (for
horses and vehicles are not yet very common here), in borrowing the only
horse on the field, and managed to get an old buckboard buggy to drive me
down. Camels are the usual mode of transit in this district, but I refuse
to ride these animals.

Starting the next morning by coach from Malcolm at half-past five for
Westralian Mount Morgans, I was fortunate in having the box-seat of the
coach. A cool breeze had sprung up in the night, no doubt accompanied
by a willy willy, which, as I told you before, is a terrific whirlwind
of dust that sweeps along everything before it, and frequently carries
verandahs away bodily and deposits them on the roofs of adjoining houses,
besides removing tents as it passes. On arrival at a little hotel at 8
o’clock I felt quite ready for breakfast, and wondered what kind of fare
we should get in these remote parts. Nearing the place, which rejoices
in the name of Bummer’s Creek, a fine vegetable garden surprised me. It
looked very refreshing to see the nice green garden after nothing but
sand and mulga-trees for 10 miles. On going into the hotel (a tin one)
evidences of comfort out of the usual order of “back-blocks” travelling
appeared. Many little dainties were on the table, and we were served with
an excellent breakfast, fresh eggs, fresh milk, and hot scones coming
on us as a complete surprise. There were two lady passengers besides
myself: Victorian girls who were on their way to an engagement at the
next hotel, where one of them was to be a “companion” at a weekly salary
of £2 10_s._

Twelve miles farther on we reached Murrin Murrin, where I stayed for a
day. Here I visited the Malcolm Proprietary, and was much interested in
the works and management of the mine, a fine one, giving good returns.
An interesting feature is the tailings hoist, worked by a compressed-air
plant. Returning to the Murrin Hotel for dinner, I was surprised at the
delicate way in which it was served, at a table with beautiful napery,
elegant silver, and glass ware. On becoming acquainted with the little
landlady, I was no longer surprised, for I found her a cultured lady, who
invited me to stay a few days as her guest, and I thoroughly enjoyed the
quiet change from the roughness to which I can never accustom myself.

There is a great deal of copper about Murrin, and many copper mines are
being worked with good results, the Anaconda taking the first place.

On arrival at Mount Morgans I found it quite a flourishing township.
Twelve months ago there were no houses, but now the place is increasing
wonderfully. The Westralian Mount Morgans Mine is less than a quarter of
a mile from the township, and is on a hill overlooking the surrounding
country. The large machinery on it made it look very imposing. From the
hill Mount Margaret is visible, a township now quite deserted, all the
houses having been bodily moved to Mount Morgans, and the hospital to
Laverton, another rising mining place, the former name of which, British
Flag, was changed to Laverton in compliment to Dr. Laver, who has been
mainly instrumental in bringing the place into prominence and attracting
an inflow of British capital.

There are some very valuable mines here, as well as the Westralian Mount
Morgans, Guest’s Mine being the next in importance, and rapidly coming
to the fore as a gold-producer. A company in England has recently been
floated with a quarter of a million of money to deal with this mine. The
reefs are very large, and known to extend over 20 miles. The Westralian
Mount Morgans, which bids fair to be one of the biggest gold-producers
of Western Australia, is named after Mr. A. E. Morgans, the Member for
Coolgardie, the largest shareholder. There was an enormous quantity of
ore waiting to be crushed, and, although the gold is too fine to be seen
by the naked eye, it realises from ½ ounce to 3 ounces per ton. Thousands
of tons of this ore, sufficient to keep the battery going for five years,
are visible, waiting to be taken out. Occasionally some rich pockets of
gold are found, the rock simply glistening with the precious metal. The
output of this mine is very large, and nearly 200 workmen are employed.
Water for crushing purposes not being abundant, a pipe-line was laid
to an extensive lagoon 6 miles away, and now brings an ample supply.
The cyanide plant can treat 2500 tons of tailings monthly. Two thousand
cords of wood are neatly stacked by the mine ready for use, and more is
obtainable at a short distance.

[Illustration: Westralian Mount Morgans Mine]

The working-men’s club and library, a very nice building, built of
mud-bricks in their spare time by the men, who are very proud of it,
faces the mine. The term “mud-bricks” may need explanation: the bricks
are made from a kind of reddish soil found here, and when moulded into
shape look very well.

The first hotel in Mount Morgans had just been opened when I was there. I
had great difficulty in getting accommodation, and was obliged to share
the room of the landlady’s daughter. The proprietor was doing a roaring
trade. There was a large dining-room, which was turned into a dormitory
at night. Visitors were constantly coming and going, so much being heard
on the lower fields of the recently wonderful finds. The post-office is
as yet a very primitive place, merely a canvas tent with a bough-shed
over it; but new buildings are going up in all directions as fast as
they can be built. Land brings a good price, plots now fetching as much
as £300 (which six months ago could have been got for the pegging out).
When a goldfield is proclaimed, the warden of the place gives permission
for people to take up ground for residential areas. Then comes a wild
rush to get in the first pegs. These pegs are to mark the ground which an
applicant desires to take up. When the warden’s permission was given, at
a court held at Mount Margaret, numbers of men hurried to Mount Morgans
to peg the best plots of land. Some went on bicycles, some on horses, and
those who arrived first of course got the best choice. One well-known
man had an old racehorse which he had “kept dark,” as they say, and he
outpaced them all and got the choicest plot on the township. He has since
erected the second hotel there, and sold it, I am told, for a very large
sum before it was completed.

Very few women are yet on the field, and as I sat writing in the only
little parlour, all the male population seemed to walk past the open door
(the room being too small and hot to shut it) and to gaze at me as if I
were something rare and remarkable.

With the exception of the few golden hills, the country was very flat,
and cyclists were constantly arriving. The country around Morgans is very
pretty in some parts, and there is plenty of nice grass growing. Every
coach coming up from Menzies was crowded with miners and prospectors,
who, having heard so much of this wonderful district, where a plentiful
supply of water is to be obtained, were getting out as fast as possible.
Not far from Mount Morgans, a mine, which is reported very rich, has
lately been discovered by Mr. Dunne, who found the Wealth of Nations Mine
at Coolgardie. Mr. Alick Forrest is largely interested, and lately paid
a visit of inspection to it.

It is a very pleasant drive of six miles to the now deserted township
of Mount Margaret, and three miles farther on is the Mount itself, from
which a grand view of the country is obtained. The enormous Lake Carey
(salt) stretched far away in the distance. This is one of the innumerable
salt lakes of Western Australia, and with the glorious sun shining on it
it looks like a lake of gold. Sir John Forrest was the first white man to
set foot in this district, and stood on the Mount 30 years ago, when he
named it Margaret after his mother and his intended wife.

As I returned to Mount Morgans in the cool of the evening, a very large
tribe of blacks (natives) appeared on the scene, but they were very
peaceful, and asked me for “bacca” and sixpence, which the king having
obtained, they all appeared satisfied. They were dressed in civilised
clothes, and looked quite fat. “White-man’s tucker,” as they call it,
and which they beg for as they go along, seemed to suit them. They
had just lit their camp fires. The aborigines’ means of fire lighting
is by wood friction, and as it takes a long time to get a spark they
usually carry fire-sticks, which keep alight a long time and save them
much trouble. They often bring into the townships or camps pieces of
gold which they have found in the bush, for they know they will receive
something, although they do not know the real value. They know, however,
the superior value of silver to copper, being aware that they can get
much more “bacca,” or food, for a silver piece than for a copper one,
and when they take their finds to any one, asking “how much this fella?”
meaning “what is it worth.” If it is a small find, and they are told the
value in pennyweights, they will say “Bael (no) pennyweight, that fella
shillingweight.” (The native, in his attempt to talk English, terms
nearly every person place, or thing “fella.”) They told me in their
broken way that this tribe had travelled from Kalgoorlie, and was going
to the Murchison, looking for a renegade blackfellow called “Kangaroo,”
who had transgressed their laws, and whom they meant to kill. Let us
hope, for “Kangaroo’s” sake, that they never found him.

Mount Wilga is a very rich property which lies on the other side of Lake
Carey, is in a country that might almost be called undiscovered. But Mr.
G. W. Hall has discovered its richness, and sent up a manager and gang of
men, who are working away with great vigour. The lode is as big and rich
as any one could desire. Some of the ore from a good depth that has been
assayed has yielded 20 ounces to the ton; how much equally rich will be
got remains to be proved.

Although the supply of water for mining purposes at Mount Morgans is not
adequate, there is plenty for domestic purposes, the wells sunk in many
parts of the township giving a good supply. In the rainy season, which,
however, seldom comes, the lagoon that supplies Westralian Mount Morgans
Mine with water is a huge lake, and teems with waterfowl. Kangaroos and
wallabies sport around its banks, and give great opportunities to the
sportsmen, who during other parts of the year have to let their guns lie
idle.




[Illustration: Mine at Laverton]




CHAPTER XXII

    Laverton—Excitement among the Miners—Bachelors and Grass
    Widowers—More Souvenirs—Lucky Discoveries—Erlistoun—Lost—Eagle
    Nugget—Euro Mine—Hospitality in the Bush.


The coach to British Flag, or Laverton, turned out to be a large kind of
conveyance with three open seats and no cover; consequently, as the day
had been hot, I was glad when we drove into the township at 8 o’clock
in the evening, for I was fairly tired out. Every one in the place was
looking out for the mail, which only goes up three times a week. Several
gentlemen whom I had known in other parts of the colony were here, and
having heard that I was to arrive by this coach, were waiting to receive
me, and three pairs of stalwart arms were held out to help me down. I was
escorted into the hotel, and from the time I arrived until I left was the
recipient of so much attention from the numerous and kindly fellows as to
be almost bewildered.

The very comfortable hotel was kept by three bachelors, one looking after
the hotel business and the other two after the store which they also
own. Wages up here are very high: cooks get £3 10s. per week, and two
young women, one of whom acts as housekeeper, while the other attends in
the bar, were receiving £5 per week! Another young woman was making a
small fortune by washing and mending the clothes of the gay bachelors,
who, having plenty of money, do not mind what they pay for work done
for them. The whole of the country seemed to be a vast auriferous area,
and thousands of miles of rich country higher up yet are absolutely
unprospected.

Horses being very scarce, I was indebted to Mr. Campbell Shaw for the
use of his horse and buggy during my stay. Mr. Shaw drove me out to the
Augusta Mine, of which he is manager. This little mine is very rich,
and had just been bought from the three original prospectors for £2500
in cash and 1300 shares. There was no battery there as yet, and so the
stone raised was taken to the Hawkes Nest Battery, 9 miles away, every
morning by a 60-camel train, the camels returning at night for their next
morning’s load. The country around is really pretty, and from the hill on
which the Augusta Mine stands you can see the houses at Mount Morgans,
20 miles off, through the clear air. Some very fine specimens have been
sent from this admirable little mine to the Glasgow Exhibition, and I was
fortunate to get some myself. The camps here were all very neat and tidy,
and yet there was not a woman on the mine, all the men being bachelors
or grass widowers. I intended to go down the shaft, but there had been
an accident the day before, and two young men had been injured—happily,
however, not very seriously—so I thought discretion the better part of
valour and did not go down. As no women were at the mine I volunteered to
do a little nursing by putting cold bandages on the injured men’s arms,
and making them nice cool lemon drinks, for which the poor fellows were
very grateful.

Going back to Laverton, just as the sun was setting, I thought the
little township looked very flourishing. It is wonderful how quickly
these places spring up! A few months ago only a few tents marked the
spot which then was called British Flag. We stopped at Dr. Laver’s old
camp and surveyed the little township with wondering eyes, and two lucky
prospectors coming up gave me a pretty little nugget they had found that
day. These men had previously struck a patch in an abandoned shaft near
where they were camped a few miles out. They thought they would go down
and look all over it, and did so with such perseverance that they found
a leader. Following it up, they discovered it to be 18 inches wide, and
eventually came across a rich pocket from which they afterwards took
£4000 worth of gold.

Driving into the township we went down to the post-office, not a Bush
one, but really a nice building. As it was the mail night all the folk
were there waiting for their letters. Most of the shops and houses are
built of galvanised iron, and are very hot during the day; but this
drawback has to be endured, for the place is in the Mulga country, where
the trees are very small and only fit for firewood, and the distances are
too great to bring timber from elsewhere. The Western Australian Bank had
a very nice place; it was one of the best buildings there.

I was now over 600 miles from Perth, the capital, and had reached the
very last township in the Mount Margaret district.

Erlistoun is another rising mining place, where there have recently
been some rich finds. It is 60 miles from Laverton. Several old
prospectors have been there for years, and have quite lost the customs of
civilisation, so much so, that one old man called Jack, on hearing that
one of the miners had brought his wife to the Erlistoun, and that she,
having a goat, had brought it up with her (at a terrible inconvenience,
as you may imagine), in order to have fresh milk in her tea, remarked:
“I shall pack my swag and go farther back, now that women and goats are
arriving here; this is no place for me.”

I saw some marvellous specimens, more gold than quartz, from the
Erlistoun, and should not be surprised to hear any day of a tremendous
rush there. Consignments of plump wildfowl from beyond Mount Black and
the Erlistoun are frequently sent to Perth, and the country about is said
to be very fine.

The Craig-i-more was the scene of my next mining visit. This mine
belongs to Sir Donald Currie, and, like most in this district, is worked
at the expense of the owners without the aid of the outside public
as shareholders. The machinery is very fine. I found the people most
hospitable; they made tea for me, and one of the managers presented me
with several valuable native weapons and curiosities, which I was proud
to add to the already fine collection in my pretty home at Claremont.

Next day I set out to drive myself to the Euro Mine, about 12 miles
from Laverton, and refused all offers of escort, wishing to explore
the country myself. All went well for about seven miles, then I came
to two roads, did not know which to take, and of course took the wrong
one. After going on for about a mile the track grew very indistinct; I
found I was on the wrong one, and presently lost it altogether. However,
knowing by the sun that I was now going quite in the opposite direction,
I turned round, found the track, and determined to trust to luck and keep
to the left. When I had gone on for about a mile the track began to get
very indistinct, again being woven into others in a most confusing way.
The wind having risen made it also very dusty and disagreeable. I now
felt completely lost, but drove on hoping to strike a road once more.
Presently, a few yards to my right, there appeared a huge “willy willy.”
It interested and amused me at first, but presently it whirled nearer,
too near for my fancy and also to suit my horse, who needed no urging on.
Surely I heard a shriek. No! it was only the horrid “willy willy”; then
began a race, and “willy willy” was edging nearer. I turned my horse’s
head and let him gallop in the opposite direction; “willy willy” had
turned too _and was following us_. Half mad with fright I gave my horse
his head, who, by-the-by, took a small rut as if he were out with hounds,
the buggy and poor I taking it also. But where was “willy willy?” Right
away back, slowly dying (perhaps of laughter at giving us such a fright).
I slackened speed, and, looking around, was surprised to find that we
were nearly back at the Junction. We had struck the road again somehow,
the horse, perhaps, knowing his way better than I did. After all, “willy
willy” had done us a good turn. “It’s an ill wind that blows nobody
good,” I said to myself as I straightened my hat and drove sedately down
the road.

[Illustration: MINERS’ CAMP, LAVERTON]

Seeing smoke rising amongst the trees, I drove over to the place, hoping
to find a camp where I might get water for my horse. I found the camp
and one solitary man working by it, who had been in the neighbourhood
prospecting for months. He asked me to give my horse a rest, offering to
attend to him and also to make some tea for me, which hospitable offer I
gratefully accepted. While the “billy” boiled he told me much about the
hardships he had endured for many months. “But now,” said he, “luck has
turned; look here, ma’am.” At the same time he unearthed from the ground
an old jam tin, which proved to be full of little lumps of gold. For
months, he told me, he had been fossicking (that is, searching the top
ground), and looking for shows of gold, and one day had struck a patch.
Picking out one little piece he said, “That’s the first bit I found, and
you are the first white woman I have seen for months, so I’ll give it to
you for luck.” The piece was almost exactly in the form of an eagle, and
is now one of my gold treasures. He said that he had often been without
food, or the money to obtain it, but had subsisted on the kindness of
other prospectors, who had helped him from their often scanty store, and
of the storekeepers who had given him tick (credit). (I have since heard
that the man afterwards struck an immense find, and is now thoroughly
successful.) Bidding my hospitable entertainer “good-bye,” I again
started on my journey and soon found myself at the Euro, not having met
even a solitary kangaroo on the road.

In the early days this mine was known as Quartz Hill, and the company
owning it was unlucky. Thousands of pounds were spent, but nothing much
was got, and the mine was finally abandoned; but some prospectors, who
often have a liking for fossicking on an abandoned spot, thought that
it had not had a fair trial, and two men, named Champion and Mason,
determined to give it another. Knowledge or chance led them to continue
a costéen, and they were not long coming on stringers (thin courses) of
rich quartz. Mr. G. W. Hall eventually came upon the scene in company
with Mr. A. W. Castle, and these well-known gentlemen were not long
in making a proposition to the prospectors, from whom they shortly
afterwards bought the mine for a considerable sum and renamed it the Euro.

There is every appearance of a brilliant future for the Euro. There is
a large body of ore in sight. The reef is 10 feet wide, and some of it
gives assay equal to the rich Kalgoorlie claims. Many nice houses are
being built for offices, manager’s house, and stores. Farther on is the
Sons of England, another rich property acquired by Mr. Hall.

At the Euro I was most hospitably entertained by the manager’s wife.
There were two other visitors at the mine that day, and we made quite a
merry party in the cool Bush-house, where we were invited to a very nice
lunch.

Mount Weld was the object of my next day’s journeying. I did not lose
myself this time, but on the way came across some prospector’s camping,
and stopped to have a talk with them. They showed me a bottle full of
gold that they had recently got. One of them, the old man of the camp,
went very mysteriously into the camp and brought out something tied up
in a piece of an old bag. It turned out to be a nugget which must have
weighed 60 ounces. A small piece of gold was given me as a souvenir, and
I was bound to secrecy for a month about the big nugget; but, as the
month will be long past when this is published, I may now safely speak.

At Mount Weld the miners seemed amazed to see a lady drive up alone,
and all work was suspended for the time by the hands on top. At the same
time an “Hallo” was given to those working below, with the message, “Come
up; a lady visitor.” The reply came, “You’re codding” (joking); but
when I went to the top of the shaft and called down, “It’s quite true,”
they came up the rope (dispensing with the bucket) with great alacrity.
Several claims here were yielding splendid returns, notably the new find,
7 miles from the Mount, where Bates and Whelan have recently struck a
rich patch.

Another new place is called Bett’s Find, and 150 men were working there;
but, the heat having been terrible and water rather scarce, a good many
of them had left the place. The North Country, as this part is called,
has the advantage of rock not nearly so hard as on the fields lower down,
consequently the ores can be more easily treated.

The time came when I had to bid farewell to Laverton and to its many
interesting mines. As time goes on the now modest little township will,
no doubt, develop into a fine city, for it is the centre of a very rich
district, although almost up in the Never Never country (where there is
no white population). Many mines of which I cannot speak are full of
golden promise, and many more will yet be discovered. The country around
is mountainous, and it is near mountains and hills that all the rich
reefs are found.

It was on a lovely morning that I started for my return journey to Mount
Malcolm. As I had 70 miles to go, and as I was on the front seat of the
coach, I was thankful that the weather was cool. At first some difficulty
was experienced in getting the off-side leader to go. He was a young
horse, just broken in, and had never been in harness before; the way he
stood on his hind legs and curvetted around put terror into my heart, for
I am not strikingly brave where horses are concerned; with a great effort
I controlled myself and sat still, for I could see that the coach-driver
had full command, and, after about ten minutes of fear to me and fun
to the crowd who gathered round, we got away, the unmanageable animal
behaving admirably for the rest of the journey.

There was only one other passenger (a gentleman) besides myself, and he
kindly got down and gathered Australian quondongs,[6] and some very rare
flowers new to me. Farther on the spinifex was very plentiful. I begged
some of that, not knowing its terrible prickly nature. It is a deceitful
plant that grows in pretty green grasslike clumps, with a flower—out at
this time—that looks almost like golden wheat, but is, oh, how wiry and
prickly!

About 12 miles from Laverton was Hawke’s Nest, where the coach stopped
for a while at the store. This is a flourishing alluvial place, where
many nuggets are often found by dry-blowers and prospectors. A man came
into the store while we were waiting there with a nice piece, which the
storekeeper weighed; it was 14 ounces, and he had another of 7 ounces. A
little while ago a man found a piece weighing 27 ounces, and these good
finds are not of unfrequent occurrence.

On arrival at Mount Morgans we changed coaches and found the new one
crowded.

By the time I got to Murrin Murrin I was pretty thoroughly tired, and
decided to stay at the nice hotel and once more see silver and pretty
glass-ware on a table, for Mount Morgans and Laverton, although rich with
gold, are not exactly rich in comfort.

I wanted to get to Malcolm the next day; there was no coach going, but
I was determined, and, my little landlady providing me with a horse and
spring-cart (the only conveyance obtainable), I made a start the next
morning like a veritable Bushwoman. I had no adventure beyond seeing a
long camel-train with three Afghan drivers, before getting near whom I
made a détour into the Bush, for horses are invariably afraid of camels.
I then resumed the road and got safely into Malcolm.

A railway is soon to be begun to the Mount Margaret goldfields, and,
considering that this field is producing at the rate of 13,000 ounces
of gold per month, almost double the output of any other colonial field
except Kalgoorlie, it is to be hoped that the line will be finished with
as little delay as possible.




[Illustration: Sons of Gwalia Mine, Mount Leonora]




CHAPTER XXIII

    Leonora—The Gwalia Mines—In a Gingerbeer Cart—More Nuggets—Gold
    Blocks—Pastoral Land—Swampers—Scarcity of the Fair Sex—Saturday
    Life—Alas, poor Prospectors!


From Mount Malcolm to Leonora I drove 12 miles through very pleasant
country spread with wild flowers of all colours. About 2½ miles before
reaching Leonora lie, a little off the main road, the great mines called
the Gwalia Group, which seem likely to develop shortly into a second
Kalgoorlie. Leonora is a new place, and its great importance has not yet
been fully realised, but some managers told me that there are belts of
richness there similar to those in Kalgoorlie and Boulder City, so that,
when the railway is finished, no doubt thousands will flock to Leonora,
which by coach is now at a distance of 80 miles from Menzies. The Gwalia
Group occupies about a mile of ground, and is a leasehold of some 477
acres. Over that expanse all the miners’ huts, camps, and tents are
scattered. I stopped at several and found a great many women and families
there, and some of their places were very comfortable inside, although
the outside was not much to look at. The men who work in this mine
are chiefly from Victoria, and they are bringing over their wives and
families every week. As the mine is evidently likely to be permanent,
and the men see a prospect of years of work before them, the people
there are very happy and have quite a little township of their own. The
principal mine of the group, the Sons of Gwalia, is on a hill, from which
place you look down over a mile of Bush dotted about with various camps.
The smoke rising from the chimneys, the poppet-heads of the other mines
lying beyond, with a blue haze of hills behind them, combine to make up a
good picture of life on the goldfields.

There are 500 men working on this mine who turn out some thousands of
ounces of gold per month, independent of the tailings, which are almost
sure to give 1½ ounces to the ton. No doubt in a short time there will be
a tremendous boom here.

The small town of Leonora very much resembles Mount Malcolm, except that
the main street is longer, and that there are a few more buildings. It
boasts of three hotels, one made of wood and two of mud bricks, but
withal not ungainly looking, and tolerably comfortable. Expenses are
heavy but wages are good, and there are so many lucky prospectors that
there is always plenty of money there. On Saturday nights a great deal
of business is done, especially on the pay Saturday, which at the Gwalia
mines arrives once a month; then most of the men come in and have some
amusement in the way of visiting the hotels and playing billiards; there
is nothing else for them to do. There is no good hall for amusements yet,
and if there were the men would have to provide their own play, for no
company of any calibre has yet ventured so far into the “back-blocks.”
A handsome semi-grand piano had just arrived at Thompson’s Hotel from
Perth, and the son of the landlady, who was an excellent musician, played
a selection from several new operas for my pleasure, as well as that of
the crowd who thronged the place. There is not much music to be had in
Leonora, but the inhabitants are quite able to appreciate it when it
comes. There is one luxury here, however, which is generally denied to
the people on the fields lower down towards Kalgoorlie—the luxury of
bathing at the public shower-baths. The men can have three baths daily
by paying the weekly fee of 2_s._ 6_d._ There are three splendid wells
in the town, with windmills, giving good supplies of fresh water. Horses
are very scarce; I had great difficulty in getting a horse and trap in
order to drive out and see the different mines; in fact, I had one day to
enlist the assistance of the local baker to take me out to one mine that
I wished very much to see, while another day the driver of the gingerbeer
carriage gallantly gave me a lift.

Another day I had quite an adventure. I started in a cart, but the animal
called a horse, after jog-trotting for a mile or so, refused to go any
farther. The driver explained: “You see, ma’am, he’s an old ’un, and
knows at this time he ought to be going towards home, so he won’t go any
farther away from it.” All coaxings and persuasions were vain, so I had
to get out and walk. The day was intensely hot, and after walking some
distance I had to sit down on a log, feeling that I could go no farther.
At last in the distance a conveyance appeared coming from the place to
which I wanted to go, and proved to be that of the butcher. I stopped
the cart, and, with the sweetest smile I could call up, asked the young
man to take me to the mine. “But I am just going away from there.” “Oh,
never mind, turn back; I will pay you any money to take me there.” After
much hesitation he consented to do so, but would not accept payment. I am
glad to say that from the mine the manager sent me back in one of their
own buggies. The only people who kept horses for hire had let theirs
out to graze during the night and could not find them in the morning.
At last, in desperation I telegraphed to Mount Malcolm for a buggy and
horse, which were brought down to me, and I finished my inspection in
comfort. However, on my second visit to Leonora I found that the place
had advanced with great strides, and that now I had no difficulty in
obtaining a nice horse and buggy in the township to take me to the
different places I wished to visit.

Going into one of the banks (there are two there), I collided at the door
with a rough-looking man carrying a canvas bag. This he emptied out upon
the counter. It proved to contain some splendid nuggets of gold and a
quantity of gold-dust. Seeing my eyes full of admiration, the man, rough
as he was, picked out a pretty little piece, and holding it towards me,
said, “Will you accept this, ma’am, from a rough miner who hasn’t spoken
to a lady for two years, and may I shake hands with you?” You may be sure
I did not refuse either of these offers, made in a most kindly spirit.

We were now nearly 600 miles from Perth in a different direction to
Laverton.

The Great Boston Reward Claim is only two miles from Leonora. Here
O’Brien and party made a vast profit out of the gold and nuggets they
obtained from their rich claim. The same party have another claim at a
place called Savannah, where they are also getting great results.

Farther along the same road, which is the main road to Diorite and
Lawlers, is the Trump Mine, which has a small battery of its own, for
which the proprietors paid out of their first crushing of 10 ounces to
the ton. There are dozens of working-parties of men about this particular
part, which is exceptionally rich. Close to the Trump are the Leonora
Gold Blocks, which for richness have not been surpassed in the district.
This mine also has its own battery, bought and paid for out of its first
profits, so now the lucky owners have nothing to do but raise the stone
and extract the gold on the premises, independent of everybody. The
ample water supply makes work here comparatively easy, and I came to the
conclusion that this was an excellent place to look for gold. When one
looks back and thinks of the difficulties miners have had to contend with
at Hannan’s, I should say that a man would rather work in the Leonora
district, even for lower pay, than down below, where there is no fresh
water and few vegetables; and the fact is that wages are higher here.
There can be no doubt that a very great future lies before the Leonora,
or, I should say, Mount Malcolm goldfields, and probably in two years
from this time, instead of 1000 there will be 10,000 people on the field.
There are now scores of mines there, about which nobody hears anything.
Steady work is in progress everywhere in the district; there are no
unemployed men, the country, all the way from Menzies, is being rapidly
opened up, and so many improvements have been decided on by the various
mining companies, that thousands more men will shortly be required to do
the work. There is, therefore, nothing to prevent this rich field, which
has the advantage of being extensive, consistent, and well watered, from
developing shortly into a great community. Mr. Morgans, who should be
a good authority on mines, says that he sees no reason why the Gwalia
Mine should not shortly turn out 10,000 ounces of gold per month, and
that there are fully a dozen mines in the neighbourhood of Leonora with
striking lode formations which in the future will be as rich as any in
the district.

On the road to the Diorite King, which is about 40 miles from Leonora,
there was nothing much to see except a good many swampers. A “swamper”
is a man tramping without his swag, which he entrusts to a teamster to
bring on his waggon. Arrived at the camping-place, which is recognisable
by the old fires, the swamper awaits the teamster’s coming, recovers
his swag and spends the night at the camp. While on foot the swamper
will generally leave the track, and prospect, and shows wonderful skill
in recovering the track again, after these deviations. The country,
however, was certainly prettier than that of the Coolgardie district.
I was somewhat surprised when the coach pulled up at a small-looking
hotel, called the Kurrajong, with a few houses about it, to find that I
was at Diorite King township. It is certainly the smallest place I ever
stayed at. However, I was not sorry to get to my journey’s end, for the
heat and red dust had made me long for a refreshing cup of tea, which I
got at the hotel. I was fortunate in getting a nice comfortable room,
which, however, I was told was reserved for the manager of a mine who
was expected soon, but I was allowed to have it until he came, and I am
thankful to say he did not arrive while I was there, so that I remained
for a few days in undisputed possession.

At Diorite the township consists of one hotel, one store, one baker
and butcher’s shop combined, one blacksmith’s forge, a few mud houses,
and two galvanised-iron ones, the house of Mr. Williams, the manager
of the Diorite Mine, and a post-office. My readers may perhaps wonder
why I stayed so long. Certainly of all the uninviting desert-looking
places I ever saw, Diorite is the worst, but mines of wealth lie close
to it. There are only four women in Diorite, the landlady, the barmaid
of the hotel, a shopkeeper, and the wife of one of the men on the mine.
Women, being so few, are looked upon in these parts as goddesses, and
are treated with reverence, and I was made quite an object of adoration.
Of course there was no chance of getting a horse and vehicle here (how
I regretted leaving my bicycle at Menzies because I would not pay full
coach fare for it!) so one mine was explored by the medium of the
grocer’s cart. However, the day after, Mr. Williams kindly lent me his
horse and buggy, and safe transit to the other mines was then assured.

[Illustration: Camels at Diorite King]

The Diorite King Mine is about two miles from the township, and lies
between two hills. A great deal of gold has been got there. I found
myself most hospitably entertained, as the men were all at their “crib”
when I arrived, and being invited into their dining-room, a bough-shed
with two benches and long table, I took the mug of “billy” tea offered
me, but did not feel disposed to partake of the corned beef, cabbage,
and potatoes, although everything looked very nice and well cooked, and
also well served up by the cook of the day. This mine, and another called
the Middlesex, have both turned out good results, and while I was there
I saw some of what is called “surface stone,” freely splashed with gold
all over. On the way back to Diorite a long string of camels, over eighty
passed on their way to Lawlers with stores. What would the people in
these remote places do if it were not for these “ships of the desert”?

On one of them, in a kind of wicker basket, was a poor little lamb,
looking wonderingly around with its head out of the cage. I thought,
perhaps, it might have been a pet of one of the Afghans. “No fear,
ma’am, it’s to be killed at sundown; they won’t eat any meat killed by
Europeans, drat them,” said the grocer, for like all Westralians he had a
hatred of the wily Afghan.

The Calcutta Mine is not far from Diorite, and has a splendid reef. It
adjoins the Little Wonder, owned by Doyle and party, who a few years
ago had a find of gold so rich and phenomenal that thousands of pounds
worth of gold were taken in no time, and the men are working in daily
expectation of cutting a rich leader again.

Mount Stirling is another mine held by a Perth syndicate. Very rich ore
was lately struck there, and the syndicate have now erected their own
crushing battery. Plenty of fuel and water is available in the vicinity.
Hundreds of tons of the valuable ore lie on top waiting to be crushed,
and thousands more are plainly to be seen below waiting to be dug out.
This is the richest stone that has ever been found near here, and is
causing much excitement on the lease adjoining Mount Stirling. A lode was
being worked by some miners at a depth of 90 feet, a pocket of some of
the stuff assaying the immense value of 100 ounces to the ton. A great
many more men have claims about the vicinity of Mount Stirling Mines, but
it is almost impossible to know what is being got, as they keep silence
over their findings. The manager of the store says that a large quantity
of alluvial gold is sent away from the district of which the warden knows
nothing. His firm, being buyers of gold, often purchase from the men as
much as 100 ounces a month, £390 worth, sometimes more.

[Illustration: AUCTION SALE GOLDFIELDS (TIN HOTEL)]

Last, but far from least, I went to the King of the Hills Mine. The
farther I got away from Diorite the nicer the country looked. When I
came to the King of the Hills the surroundings were really pretty.
The wonderful gold got there has been obtained by sinking to no great
depth. The main shaft was only 25 feet deep at the time when I saw it.
Many rich quartz veins have been found in the workings, the finds being
occasionally most sensational. A small parcel of 18 tons of stone was
treated for a yield of 280 ounces of gold; 14 tons yielded 276 ounces,
and since then a further sensation has been caused by 1 ton of quartz
which yielded 116 ounces of gold. On one of the shafts large sacks of ore
were stacked which fairly glistened with gold, and were expected to give
as high a result as that just quoted. The mine was owned at this time by
Read and party, but has since been sold to Mr. Raymond, of the Harquehala
Company, for £6000 cash. After pegging out their claim, Reid and party
obtained over 1600 ounces of gold, worth about the nice little sum of
£6200. That, with the sale of the mine, makes a fortune of £12,000 for
four partners.

Saturday afternoon brought all, or nearly all, the miners from the
surrounding country into Diorite, where, as you can imagine, the
hotelkeeper was kept busy. The hotel proprietor, no doubt, has made a
fortune out of these Saturdays, the men having no other means of spending
their money; there is no bank where they can change their gold into
coin, but the storekeeper does that necessary kindness for them, or the
landlady notes a score on her little slate. All the time that I was
there one lucky claim-holder was falling about the place intoxicated.
Some of the scenes witnessed are by no means pleasant, but I suppose the
four women of the place had got quite used to them, for they did not
seem to take any notice of anything that went on. Many of the men on
the Saturday night become incapable of going back to their camps, and
there being no sleeping accommodation at Diorite beyond the one hotel,
they take shelter in any empty hut or under any cover they can find. The
men are all very kind to one another, only a few fights occur, and the
fighters soon shake hands and make friends again. There is no police
protection, and not even a tree lock-up, so every one does pretty well as
he likes at Diorite King; but when one thinks of the life these men lead,
shut off in a desert country from almost every trace of civilisation,
one feels that their faults should be looked on with a lenient eye. One
man seemed terribly drink-sodden, and I was told he had taken thousands
of pounds worth of gold as a partner in a certain claim, and his friends
had tried to get him away to reclaim him, but he would not leave the
place, and preferred to spend the money as he got it in the desert.
Occasionally some poor miner gets lost in the Bush and is never heard
of again. The blacks were very troublesome at one time about here, but
there are now very few. Mr. J. Leyland, one of the original owners of
the Little Wonder Mine, was killed by them about two years ago. He had
gone out to look for two horses that were lost, and having found them had
camped for the night at Doyle’s Well, about 20 miles off, and was boiling
his billy when he noticed a bush in motion close by, and before he could
arm himself two blacks sprang upon him and hit him on the head with a
waddy, and then speared the horses, leaving Mr. Leyland, as they thought,
dead. They then, having satisfied their thirst for blood, decamped. On
the poor man’s return to consciousness he dragged himself to the horses
and found one poor beast dead but the other not severely injured. He
managed to mount it, and horse and rider, covered with blood, managed to
make their way back to the mine. The horse dropped dead on their arrival
there, and poor Leyland only lived long enough to relate his terrible
night’s experience. Two men were lost in the Bush a little after this,
and parties went out searching for them. One poor fellow was found dead
under a tree, with his billy beside him, on the smoked part of which was
scratched: “Dying from thirst; Jim tried to go on, follow him.” A horse
lying dead close by mutely told a dreadful tale. The search-party, going
on for many miles, at last came across a hut near a well. The hut-keeper
told them he was awakened by a noise at daybreak, and on looking out saw
a dark object leaning over a rough hollowed-out tree trunk (used for
giving his horse a drink) and ravenously gulping down the water like a
thirsty wild animal. It was hardly daylight, so he could not distinguish
what it was, but knowing there were no wild animals about he ventured out
to see, and found it was the other poor lost man in the throes of death.
He took him into the hut and cared for him as well as he could, but it
was too late, so all the search-party could do was to dig a grave and
bury the second poor mate as they had done the first.

About 62 miles from Leonora is the splendid goldfields’ pastoral station,
called Sturt’s Meadows, which belongs to Mr. Manuel, and consists of
570,000 acres of land. There is an abundance of water, and wells have
been sunk in many parts to supply the enormous herds of stock which Mr.
Manuel sends to the southern markets. The boundary of the station lies
20 miles away, and we drove 18 miles, during which we were always on
the property, before coming to the homestead. Here we were hospitably
received, and tasted “Brownie,” a currant loaf peculiar to this station,
of which I can personally speak in the highest terms. Mr. Manuel drives
four and sometimes six brumbies, and the way he gets over the ground is
simply amazing.




[Illustration: Off by the Coach to Lawlers]




CHAPTER XXIV

    Lawlers—Splendid Vegetables—Waiting for a Samaritan—Mount Sir
    Samuel—While the Billy boils—The Kangaroo—Lake Way—Across the
    Country—The “Back-blocks”—Camping out—Arrival at Nannine—Bed
    once More—Splendid Mines of the Murchison—Peak Hill—The Gold
    Patch—An Old Friend—A Hearty Welcome.


Another coach journey of 50 miles brought me to Lawlers. I was now out
of the Mount Malcolm and Mount Margaret districts, and in the East
Murchison. Mount Magnet, which is on the Cue railway line, is almost
in a direct line with Lawlers, and it is 130 miles from Lawlers to
Menzies. Lawlers is a nice little town; all the people so friendly and
pleased to see a strange lady on the field that many of them came into
the hotel to see me. The buildings are creditable, and a great amount of
business seemed to be doing. The gold output is steadily increasing, but
although much good ore is realised, there is great difficulty experienced
in getting it crushed, the batteries being too small. The people seem
unusually healthy. They say no one is ever sick at Lawlers, and the
soil is magnificent for growing fruit and vegetables, despite the small
rainfall. Mr. Homann has a very fine garden, watered by the surplus
water from the Great Western Mine, and from a well with a windmill.
Melons, tomatoes, and cabbages are fully equal to any I have seen. There
are also some vines that have borne beautiful grapes. If there were
only a plentiful fall of rain, which unfortunately seldom happens,
Lawlers could compete with any place in the matters of agriculture
and viticulture. Everything has to be carted to the place by team or
camel-train, consequently things of all kinds are very dear, the actual
cost of carriage from Mount Magnet being £12 per ton by team and £8 by
camel-train. The coach fare to that place from Lawlers, 192 miles, is
£5, and to Menzies, 130 miles, £4. Until the railway went to Menzies
from Kalgoorlie, most of the supplies came from Mount Magnet, but now
that the traffic of Lawlers is going to Menzies, since the train service
commenced, instead of Magnet, it increases daily. This, of course, will
naturally benefit both places, since Menzies will now also obtain some
of the splendid vegetables grown in Lawlers. Previously there were only
tinned vegetables to be had there. The people of Menzies have no desire
to see a railway line extended past that place, but as the Government has
now decided to build a railway speedily to Leonora, the Lawlers people
are hoping that at no distant time the line may be extended to their town
also; Lawlers will then be the pivot between the Murchison (Cue line)
and East Murchison goldfields, and with its excellent soil, its rich
mines, the Great Eastern for instance, will probably become one of the
principal towns in the goldfields. When the railway reaches Lawlers there
will be only 192 miles of this part without train service, through which
a railway could soon be made to Mount Magnet, completing a belt of rails
from Perth right round the Yilgarn, Coolgardie, Mount Malcolm, Margaret,
East Murchison, Murchison, and Yalgoo goldfields.

[Illustration: Lake Way Gold Mine]

I next prepared for a long journey through the Western Australian Bush.
My destination was Lake Way and Wiluna. How I was to get there I did
not know, as there were no coaches even for the mails, which were only
taken once a week, and then by bicycle, over a distance of 120 miles,
a journey too long and too lonely for me to take alone. However, I was
cheered by the news that some miners were expected at Lawlers in a day
or two for whom horses were waiting. So, never doubting that they would
be gallant enough to offer me a seat, I rested quietly and waited for
their arrival. When they came they proved to have two friends with them,
who proposed to travel on what is called the “buckboard,” that is the
kind of ledge, about three feet long, for carrying luggage at the back
of the buggy, and as there was only room for two persons in front there
seemed to be a difficulty about conveying the whole party. However, the
pleasure of having a lady to drive with them for 120 miles was great
enough to make the party alter all their arrangements. One of them
borrowed a bicycle, and two of us in front of the buggy, a lad and other
friend on the buckboard, and four brumbies in hand, we gaily started off
one fine morning. We reached the first stopping-place, Mount Sir Samuel,
31 miles off, at 4 o’clock, and put up there, as I wished to see this
little place, where there are some very good mines—one, the Bellevue,
being a first-rate property. Another, called the Sulphide King, is very
promising. Mining here is not so hard as in some places, owing to the
softness of the ground and the plentiful supply of water.

Lake Darlot is about 20 miles from here, and there is now a very
promising goldfields township in the district. A wild rush occurred a
few years ago. This was one of the places where great hardships were
endured by the diggers on account of the terrible scarcity of provisions;
the price of flour, when procurable, was at that time £5 for a small bag!

Every one at Mount Sir Samuel was very kind and hospitable, and I felt
quite sorry to leave next morning, as we did at daybreak, for we wished
to make a long journey that day. We should have, we knew, to camp out. I
looked forward to this unusual experience with great eagerness.

As I was watching the camp making I heard “Coo-e-e! Coo-e-e!” the
Australian bush cry, and presently a party of four miners rode up.
They had just sold their mines for £17,000, and were on their way to
Melbourne, _en route_ for New Zealand to see their parents. They told me
that, five years ago, they landed in the West with £200 between the four
of them, and are now leaving with the above-mentioned sum; but they hope
to come back to the Golden West after a six-months holiday. As you may
imagine, they were very jolly; they took off their kits (bags), which
contained provisions, we combined forces, and made a very pleasant meal
under the shade of some pretty kurrajong-trees. At night, attracted by
our fires, some natives appeared, but I felt quite safe with so many
protectors. They made up a bed of bushes for me under the buggy, and put
branches all around it. I felt as if I was in a Mia Mia (native hut), and
was as comfortable as possible. I heard the natives saying, “Mimi lubra,”
which means, “Woman in a tent.” They thought the men would not trouble to
make a place like it for themselves, and their conjectures were right;
they are not such a stupid race after all!

Early in the morning we parted company and started off again. An
adventure shortly after stirred us up. A kangaroo, pursued by an emu,
came on the scene, but, being so fleet, both were soon out of sight.
After the excitement was over the boy on the buckboard repeated to us an
essay he said he wrote at school, on the kangaroo, which struck me as
being so funny that I give it you verbatim:

    “The kangaroo is a quadruped, but two of his feet is only
    hands. He is closely related to the flea family, an’ jumps like
    him, an’ has the same kind of resemblance. He is Australian by
    birth an’ has a watch-pocket to carry his children in. There
    is two or more kinds of kang’roos, but they are mostly male
    an’ female, and live on grass, cabbage, and curren buns. The
    kang’roo’s tale is his chief support; it is thick at one end,
    and runs to the other end; it is good to jump with, and the
    kang’roo when it’s cut off don’t know his way home, and has to
    walk on his hands. The kang’roo is good for makin’ soup and
    bootlaces and putting in zoos, and sometimes he is presented to
    the roil Family to represent Australia.”

We reached Wiluna, the township of Lake Way, next day, and found it a
very nice little place. There are three hotels and stores, and I was
surprised to find everything so nice away up in the wilds of the West.
There is plenty of fresh water in this district and several nice gardens.
Watermelons grow splendidly, and, with the thermometer at 114°, are very
welcome. Tomatoes also grow in profusion, and several people are growing
fruit and vegetables as a business, so that Lake Way is not a bad place
in which to find oneself. There are many good mines, turning out handsome
yields, and companies have recently been floated in London to take over
several properties here. The chief characteristics of the reefs are
evenness of quality, great wealth, and permanency. A very nice cake of
gold, weighing 145 ounces, from one of the claims was shown me; it came
from a claim called The Brothers.

The people about Wiluna are, in spite of the heat of the climate, very
fond of dancing. It really is almost their only amusement. The evening
of our arrival a ball was held; it might truly be termed a Bachelors’
Ball, for so few of the opposite sex are in the district; however, the
boys, as they are termed, arrived in great force, their dancing costumes
being riding breeches and coloured shirts, with turned down collars
and broad hats, real “back blocks” costume. As it was a very hot and
bright moonlight night, they danced on the open plain, and seemed to
enjoy themselves thoroughly. At about 9 o’clock a terrific shouting and
native yabber, yabber (talk) from a part of the Bush, where a tribe of
aborigines were encamped, gave token of rival amusement. The natives were
holding a Corroboree. They had camped at Wiluna, but were travelling to
some particular part of the country, where a favourite large grub, which
they used for food, was to be found in quantities. Natives always travel
from place to place in search of food, and they know the parts in which
the different kinds will be plentiful or in season.

[Illustration: KANGAROO

_Copyright—Gambier Bolton_]

Wishing to see a Corroboree dance, I, with some of the onlookers of
the Bachelors’ Ball, migrated to the camp. The black fellows, who had
ornamented their heads and kangaroo-skin garment with what feathers and
tufts of grass they could obtain and coloured their faces and bodies
with wilgey, were leaping up in the air, with a spear in one hand and
a shield in the other, and contorting their bodies in most grotesque
fashion to the accompaniment of native music supplied by some of the men
of the tribe, who squatted on the ground chanting strange sounds and
beating sticks, while the lubras (wives), gins (girls), and pickaninnies
(children) sat or lay around, making a fearful noise and clapping their
hands vigorously. In the light of the camp fire it was a novel and weird
sight, but a little of it sufficed me. Before leaving, the head man of
the tribe threw the boomerang, which is a native weapon shaped like a
quarter-moon, and so constructed that it assumes a return motion at the
will of the native who throws it. It really was wonderful to hear it
whirr as it started through the air to a great distance and height, and
then come back to exactly the same place it started from. The boomerang
is not so unique as many people think; a weapon almost the same was used
by the Abyssinians hundreds of years ago, and still earlier by the people
of ancient Egypt.

The journey from Lake Way to Nannine, over 120 miles of rather barren
country, was one to be remembered. No coach having yet been started on
this route, I was fortunate in being able to join a party of people,
including two ladies, who were going there in their own conveyances;
they had been in the “back-blocks” for four years, and thought it time
to take a holiday, especially as their husbands had made over £6000
each from their mines, and had given them £500 each to go to Victoria,
see their friends, and have a good time, as I have no doubt they did.
We camped out for four nights, but the weather was fine, and it was
very pleasant to be under a canopy of stars, although towards morning
it got pretty cold. The two ladies took it in turn to do the cooking,
and would not hear of my doing anything, saying it would be a pity to
roughen my hands, which, by the way, were becoming almost as brown as
theirs. I quite enjoyed the bush-cooking. Johnny cake or “damper,” as it
is called here, cooked in the wood-ashes, is very nice, especially with
good butter, which we had in tins. Then there were plenty of wild turkeys
about, some of which were shot for us. My companions had brought some
tinned asparagus also, so, taking it altogether, our manna in the desert
was not to be despised. We met a few aborigines during our journey, but
they were generally very quiet and only asked for bacca and food. The
lubras were carrying their pickaninnies in a coota (bag) on their backs
(this is their usual custom except in the colder parts of the colony,
where they are supplied with blankets and also with rations); they were
also carrying sticks and some freshly killed birds. The women always have
to carry all the burdens, their lords and masters stalking on ahead with
their spears, no doubt on the look-out for game.

[Illustration: A Well near Lake Way]

One night, as we were sitting round the camp-fire, several of them again
appeared and demanded more bacca and food, which was given them, and they
were told to go away, but they would not do so until the men of our party
fired off several shots, which soon caused them to disappear, as they
are very much afraid of fire-arms.

[Illustration: LUBRA AND PICKANINNY]

Another night we camped in company with two teams. Each team had ten
horses and splendid large waggons, one of which the teamster gave up
to us three ladies, and we had quite a luxurious bed on sacks of chaff
that night. The teamsters were educated men; one had received a college
education, but had been eight years in the “back-blocks.” He said he
had not been in a lady’s company for years, and the poor fellow seemed
delighted to talk to me about his mother and sisters, who, he said, were
in dear old England, but he never wrote home, as he was the black sheep
of the family. I made him promise that when he got to Nannine he would
write to his mother, who, no doubt, in her heart was thinking, “Where is
my wandering boy to-night?” I do hope he kept his promise. On our arrival
at Nannine I bade a reluctant farewell to the party, who took the coach
to Cue, _en route_ for Fremantle, there to take the steamer to Victoria
to spend their well-earned holiday.

We were now in the Murchison district. Nannine is a nice little place,
and everything seemed to be flourishing. The people form a very happy,
lively community. Several good buildings adorn the town, and I considered
myself fortunate in getting very comfortable quarters, for I was
really tired after my journey and late camping-out experiences. It was
delightful to rest on a nice soft bed and to have my breakfast brought me
in the morning. There are two good hotels at Nannine, which do a splendid
business. There are over 80 mines in the district—the first in which
gold was discovered in Western Australia. This first discovery dates
from 1854, when Robert Austin was sent by Governor Fitzgerald to explore
the country in the Gascoyne district above Peak Hill for agricultural
and pastoral land for settlement. Mr. Austin was accompanied by the
sons of some of the early settlers, and the little band of explorers
underwent many hardships. Most of their horses were poisoned by the
Bri-gastrolobium plant, and the party had to travel on foot for many
weary months. It was owing to this circumstance that the gold discovery
was made, for while reconnoitring for grass and water Mr. Austin came
across some likely looking stone, which he broke, and found it contained
gold. The only prospecting tools available (except a tomahawk, a small
hatchet always carried by explorers and prospectors), being a knife and
a pannikin, much progress could not be made. On Mr. Austin’s return to
Perth from the expedition he informed the Government, who did not think
it worth while to make further inquiries. Had they done so, the colony’s
prosperity might have dated 35 years earlier than it has done, as Mr.
Austin correctly described the auriferous nature of the belt of country
around Mount Magnet, Lake Austin, and Mount Kenneth, and also predicted
that the Murchison would become one of the greatest goldfields in the
world. The little party were the first white men who ever set foot in
that part of the colony, and I do not think that their efforts were
ever recognised. Mr. Austin is now a very old gentleman, and last year
was mining surveyor at the Mines Department, Hodgkinson Goldfields,
Queensland, from which place he wrote to the papers in Perth asking that
his claims as the first discoverer of gold should be recognised by the
present Parliament, and giving interesting particulars of his travels.
In 1856 gold was discovered at Kojânup, but little attention was paid to
gold in Western Australia in those days. It was not until 1884 that Mr.
Hardman, the Government geologist, discovered rich gold at Kimberley in
the far north of Western Australia, and this was followed in 1887 by the
find of gold at Mugakine while a man was digging a well. Golden Valley
and Southern Cross followed, and an era of prosperity for the colony
opened which I hope will never be closed.

At the Aberfoyle Mine, to which I went from Nannine, I saw some beautiful
quartz thickly encrusted with gold. Twenty-two pounds of this stone
contained over 62 ounces of gold, valued at £230. This rich piece of
quartz has been secured for the Glasgow Exhibition. There are seven
shafts on this really amazing mine, from each of which the ore taken is
so marvellously rich that they are watched at night. Splendid machinery
is being put up, but sufficient masons cannot be got to do the work,
consequently the progress is slow. The Nannine Mine has shown wonderful
results during the year. In six weeks 1371 ounces were crushed from 285
tons of stone. The chute (opening) from which this was taken improves
still richer as the mine opens up. The Champion is another group of
mines, from which excellent returns have been taken. At the Royalist,
another mine owned by the oldest mining resident of Nannine, as much as
300 ounces in two weeks have recently been obtained. There are many other
mines, but I cannot specify them all. Mount Yagahong is also a rich part
of the field, and Meekatharra, 25 miles away, is rapidly forging ahead
as a gold producer. Then 14 miles from Nannine is Burnakura, from which
place 71 lb. of specimens, containing 700 ounces of gold, some of the
pieces being nearly pure gold, were recently brought into Nannine and
lodged in the Western Australian Bank. Previous to this, £2000 worth of
gold was taken from the same claim, called Jewett’s United Lease, and
still more recently a Perth paper records that “A small parcel of stone,
weighing 4¾ cwt., from Jewett’s Union Mine at Burnakura, and crushed
at the Nannine battery, yielded 494½ ounces of gold. Nine hundred tons
of stone lie at grass—that is, on the top waiting to be crushed—on the
property.” This magnificent mine is owned by a local syndicate of seven
people. Gabanuntha is a rich mine near Nannine, and Star of the East
another. A leasehold with a peculiar name is “After Many Years,” which
gives every indication of turning out rich. This district, and Peak Hill,
owing to their remoteness, have not attracted speculators much, but must
eventually become prominent, for they are as rich as any part of Western
Australia, and after many years will, no doubt, fully verify Robert
Austin’s prediction.

To drive another 120 miles through the Bush to Peak Hill did not seem to
me a very agreeable undertaking, but the advent one day of a spanking
four-in-hand at Nannine, bringing three gentlemen, one of whom I was
fortunate enough to know, and who gallantly offered to take me to Peak
Hill, altered the case completely. One of the party was an Englishman
inspecting Western Australian mines with a view to large investments.
Relays of horses had been sent on to the different stages along the road
and sleeping accommodation arranged for. I am afraid I put out these
arrangements considerably, but the gentlemen did not seem to mind giving
up the best to me, gallantly saying that my company compensated for
any discomfort. I felt at first that, as they were on mining business,
they did not want womenfolk around, but they soon found out that I took
as much interest in mining matters as themselves, and we became _bon
camarades_. Knowing that the _menu_ at these places would not be of the
best, the party had sent ahead supplies of everything necessary for table
comfort, also a man cook and waiter, so you may well understand that the
journey to Peak Hill was a most enjoyable one to me.

As we approached the famous Peak Hill, which is a nice little mining
town, endowed with wonders of which you will presently hear, we passed
several dry-blowers working. These men fossick (look) over the old
workings, and by aid of a tin dish, in which they place any earth
they think contains gold, and a coarse riddle with which to sift it,
afterwards blowing away the fine dirt, they frequently find gold at the
bottom of the dish. The ground is remarkably rich in gold, and I find
it impossible to describe the magnitude of this golden country, which,
like other fields, seems only to have been tested in a few places, those
places being so rich that one wonders what the country will be when the
hundreds of miles of good ground that I have passed have been opened out
by miners. We were now far, far away from Perth, and the country looked
different from any I had seen before in Western Australia. Peak Hill lies
very high, 2000 feet above the sea-level. The ascent is steep and very
rocky, four miles of it going through the Robinson Ranges. An interesting
sight is found at the top, which has the appearance of a wide plain,
with shafts and dumps of the thrown-up earth all over it. The manager of
the principal mine here has a very comfortable residence, and the miners’
camps give the place the usual prosperous appearance. There are over 600
men on this field. The whole of the leases of Peak Hill have been taken
over by a syndicate, which has formed a company in London. The finds
have been marvellously rich. I went down one shaft, and saw some very
interesting specimens being dug out. The gold is in a kaolin formation,
and in some parts the kaolin is of all kinds of colours, and with the
gold shining through looks really lovely. In other parts of the mine the
kaolin is quite white, and the deposit easy to dig out. The results from
the Peak Hill reef have been as high as 2621 ounces 15 dwts. of gold
from 331 tons of this ore. Some of the mines have given as much as 21
ounces of gold to the ton, which is a wonderful record. The Christmas
Gift is a rich mine, and many others have had such phenomenal crushings
that the Peak Hill district is unsurpassed in wealth of gold. When Sir
Gerard Smith, late Governor of Western Australia, visited Peak Hill, the
mine-owners had a solid gold plate and a cup, to use at dinner, cast for
him.

[Illustration: DRY-BLOWING IN THE GOLDEN STEW]

There are some really fine public buildings, and the hotels, especially
the Peak, are very comfortable. A nice Miners’ Institute, for meetings,
entertainments, &c., has recently been finished. Land for building sites
realises splendid prices, nearly £1000 having been paid for different
allotments. The private houses seem very comfortable habitations. Many of
the people have made fortunes, and everything seems prosperous about the
place.

A very original character, called “Tom the Rager,” sold his interest in
one of the leases some time ago for £15,000. This man, an old Irishman,
made a memorable journey from Kimberley, in the North-West, across the
greater part of Western Australia, accompanied only by his faithful dog
“Paddy,” and subsequently got an interest in some of the richest claims
at Peak Hill, as the sale mentioned may testify. The Golden Patch, as
it is called, in which all the rich mines are, covers about a square
mile of ground of quite a different nature from that in other parts.
This mile of ground is formed by a mass of rich veins of quartz, and the
wealth contained there is unsurpassed in any part of Western Australia.
Were Peak Hill not such a tremendous distance away from the capital,
its growth would, no doubt, be as quick as that of Kalgoorlie, which it
so much resembles. Some of the wonderful crushings from a few of the
golden mines may interest you. The Peak Hill Reef, from 331 tons of stone
crushed 2621 ounces of gold; Daisy Bell, 82 tons, gave 1245 ounces;
Golden Chimes, 195 tons, gave 1402 ounces. The Horseshoe and the Golden
Patch are supposed to be the two richest spots in the colony. Some of the
specimens taken from the Patch are not only rich but vastly interesting
in other ways, some of the pieces being not gold held together by quartz,
but _vice versâ_; the small pieces of quartz, if tapped by a hard
substance, vibrate like a tuning-fork. The gold is very brilliant, and
positively sparkles in the light.

I drove out to the Horseshoe Mines, a distance of about 20 miles. There
were over 50 men working there, and getting a great deal of gold; some of
them gave me some pretty pieces. I have now got enough nuggets to make
any other collectors envious. While there I met a young man who knew me
in Melbourne when he was quite a boy. I did not recognise him, as he had
grown up and had a moustache; but he came to me almost with tears in his
eyes, so pleased was he to see me so far away from home. For the moment
I could hardly realise that I was nearly 800 miles in the interior of
Western Australia, and felt inclined to cry with sympathy. He gave me a
very pretty little nugget, which cheered me considerably. Alluvial gold
often takes most singular forms; it is usually found on the surface,
or not far below, while reef-gold is got in a quartz lode, or vein, at
some depth underground. Some magnificent nuggets have been found in this
part; one weighing 132 ounces, worth over £500, was found in one of the
gullies which we passed when driving to this spot. The name of Horseshoe
is taken from the long range of hills shaped almost like a horseshoe, and
the gullies between them have made many of the miners wealthy. There are
two very rich reefs here, which have been proved for six or seven miles.
The specimens are very massive, gold predominating to a large extent in
the quartz, and the ironstone fairly glistening with richness. I was
now getting so much accustomed to looking at and handling gold that I
began to fear I should look coldly on the common articles of everyday
life. The miners, with the usual hospitality of their class, would boil
the billy and give me tea, and all the best that their “back-block”
larder afforded. Times are much changed now, since the early days of the
fields, and the miners can live very comfortably. I said good-bye to them
all with regret, wishing I could stay longer in this grand part of the
country, the scenic beauty of which is also great. I enjoyed the drive
back very much, and could not help thinking what store of wealth must lie
beneath the ground we were driving over. The great bulk of this part of
the country must contain untold gold.

Revelstone is another rich mining camp a few miles from Peak Hill, where
a public crushing plant has been erected, at which the miners of the
neighbourhood can have their ore crushed as soon as they raise it.

Farther on still is that wonderful Nor’-West country, to which I hope
some day to go. The biggest nuggets the colony has produced have been
found there. “The Bobby Dazzler,” which I was fortunate enough to see,
and tried to lift, before I left Perth, and which is to be shown at the
Glasgow Exhibition, came from Marble Bar, Nor’-West. It weighs over 400
ounces of gold, and is worth over £1600. Another large nugget was found
in that district a few years ago, which weighed 334 ounces; so that
people wishing to pick up the precious metal in large lumps had better
try their luck in the far North.

After spending some days at Peak Hill, I started, with my kind friends,
on my return to Nannine, and passed through acres and acres of the
finest everlasting flowers I have ever seen. The beautiful cream-coloured
starry flowers were as large as a florin; the country looked like a foamy
sea. Then, in other parts, bright-coloured flowers surrounded us, like
patterns in a huge kaleidoscope.

We came to Abbot’s Find, some miles before reaching Nannine; the locality
is very rich; it was near here that last year a lucky prospector, named
Campbell, found some splendid specimens. The stone was creamy-white,
thickly permeated with gold, and was obtained from near the surface.
The place is full of outcrops (likely places for gold), leaders, and
reefs, it is wonderful that no rush has yet begun; but the rich spots
are so many, and the men comparatively so few, that they cannot prospect
them all. There are several important mines at Abbot’s, notably the New
Murchison King, White Horse, Abbot’s, and others, which have all given
good returns.




[Illustration: Mine at Cue]




CHAPTER XXV

    Tuckanarra—The Lights of Cue—Surprising Vegetation—Sweet
    Flowers Again—High Wages—Splendid Meat—The Island—The
    Mirage—Jolly Faces—Mount Magnet—Donkeys—A Tasteful Camp—The
    Morning Star—Windsor Castle.


After a good rest at Nannine, which is 50 miles from Cue, we started off
for Tuckanarra, where I stayed for a day to see the much-talked-of spot
where so rich a find was lately made, my friends going on meanwhile to
Cue. The country around here is much broken and there are many large
caves. It was at the head of a huge gorge that the big find was made,
right on the surface, and many hundredweights of rich specimens were
quickly dug out. The lucky prospector communicated with Mr. Zeb. Lane,
in Perth, who went up, inspected the find, and took an option of the
mine for the British Westralia Syndicate, taking 4 cwt. of the rich
stuff home to England with him. However, the find proved to be a pocket,
and all the gold had centred there; consequently Mr. Lane surrendered
the option, as not being valuable enough for flotation. (He has since
floated in England the Anchor Consolidated Group, which includes several
good mines at Tuckanarra.) The original owners, Messrs. Taylor and Co.,
have now retaken the work of opening up the mine with much success, and
have recently struck a rich reef, a parcel of 34 tons of stone from
which have yielded 138 ounces of gold. Boyd’s Claim is the best one
here, over 3000 ounces of gold having been taken out of it by crushing
and dollying, while the tailings, concentrates, and blanketings brought
the yield up to a considerably larger amount. At present Tuckanarra is a
quiet little place, but there is no knowing at what moment the colony may
be electrified by more finds. It was Warden Dowley’s blackboy who first
discovered gold in the Tuckanarra district. Whilst travelling with the
warden to Nannine he showed a piece of gold to his master and pointed
out the place where he found it, on which the warden marked the spot and
afterwards circulated the news. The usual rush ensued, and many claims
were pegged out.

Only 25 miles of Bush travelling now lay between me and the town of Cue.
The coach driver favoured me with the box-seat, much to the disgust of
a male passenger, who wanted the seat and did not feel inclined to give
way to a lady. But the driver of the coach is always the boss (master) of
the box-seat, and this one, being fond of ladies’ society, gave me the
preference, not resembling in this point the driver in one of the other
districts, who said he “didn’t want no women sitting alongside of him.”

At last I saw the lights of Cue. Electric lights in the streets, horses
and carts, the shrill whistle of the railway engine, boys calling out the
evening papers, and the stopping of the coach to deliver the mails at the
brilliantly lighted and splendid post-office, told me that I had emerged
from the “back-blocks” and was once more nearing the metropolis.

[Illustration: Inclined Shaft, Cue One Mine]

I had heard a good deal about this centre of the Murchison, Cue, and, now
that I was here, found it an agreeable place to spend a few days in. The
living is in many ways immensely good, fresh milk is abundant, eggs are,
it is true, 5_s._ a dozen, but are obtainable. The meat is the finest I
have seen in the colony, and the vegetables are equally good. Passing
the door of the kitchen one morning I saw a pile of cauliflowers, the
outside leaves of which were 4 feet high, and the white flower on the
same scale. The cabbages were as hard as a rock and over a foot and a
half in diameter. Turnips and other kinds of vegetables were equally
surprising. The cook told me that they were grown at Mr. Rickett’s
garden, two miles out of town. To look at the barren country one would
think that nothing would grow, but it justifies the words of Sir
Frederick Weld, one of the first Governors, who, when people described
Western Australia as a sand heap, said, “If it be only sand, it is sand
that will grow anything if you give it water.” I was agreeably surprised
one morning to receive a lovely bunch of mignonette and a few violets,
the first of the season. I did enjoy the gift; no garden flowers ever
smelled sweeter or looked prettier to me, for it was a long time since
I had seen any. It was a perfect Sunday morning, and picnics and drives
were the order of the day; several parties were just setting out. The
people seem to be very happy, and, though so far away from their old
homes, have got quite used to goldfields life and get plenty of enjoyment
out of it. I drove out to some of the gardens and was surprised at the
green spots in the desert. Plenty of water is got by sinking wells and
the gardens are well irrigated.

There are two newspapers published at Cue. At a dinner given to the Press
while I was there, one of the toasts was as follows: “Woman, second only
to the Press in disseminating news.” Are we ladies to take this as a
compliment, or otherwise?

It is proposed to carry the railway from Cue on to Nannine. The Cue
people do not want this, as it would make Nannine the centre and spoil
Cue. A splendid court-house and warden’s offices are here, as well as
many other fine public buildings, shops, dwelling-houses, and hotels.

There are some good mines, but a great many of them are under exemption
at present; that means, allowed to stop working for a specified time
named in their application; consequently many men are out of work and
the town is comparatively quiet, because these men have to go out
back-prospecting, to keep their wives and children.

There are many families in Victoria and elsewhere who bless the day when
the goldfields of Western Australia were discovered, and a great many
miners in these districts have brought over their wives and families and
have made humble but comfortable homes for them. They all seem happy, and
I have talked with many of the women, who tell me that, though the life
is rather rough, yet they have money always regularly coming in, while,
on the other side, they had nothing to keep themselves with the failure
of the banks and general crash in Melbourne having ruined so many people.

Coming back from a drive I passed the racecourse, with such a funny
little grand-stand, perched on top of a rocky hill. There was to be a
wild-flower show soon. The ladies were working hard to make it a success.
There seemed to be a great many of them here, and yet it is only a few
years since the arrival of a fair lady in Cue was an event of importance,
in which almost the entire population showed their interest by crowding
round the coach. Wages are still very good. A housekeeper will get £3 a
week; barmaids, £3 10_s._; housemaids and waitresses, £2 10_s._; and a
lady to whom I was speaking told me she was extremely tired, from having
had to do all the washing for the family herself, as the laundrywoman
wanted £1 per day for doing it, or 15_s._ for half a day! Chinese are
sometimes engaged as servants, and, as a rule, give satisfaction. No
Chinaman or coloured man is allowed to mine; in Western Australia they
are tolerated as gardeners or servants only.

Mr. A. W. Walder has a large station called Coodardy, 20 miles from Cue.
It extends nearly 100 miles up towards Lake Way. There are always 1500
head of cattle and 4000 or 5000 sheep on it to supply the necessities of
the Cue and Mount Magnet districts. This number is supplemented by drafts
from the far north, even as far as Gascoyne and Kimberley. The feed is
good, as may be supposed from the beautiful quality of the meat. It is
chiefly salt-bush, of which the stock are very fond, and which does not
grow very high, but is most nourishing. The water supply for them is
drawn from wells by blacks kept for that purpose.

Day Dawn, where the largest mines are situated, is four miles from Cue.
One of these is called the Consolidated Murchison Gold Mines, Limited.
The machinery on these mines is magnificent, and has cost an enormous
sum of money. The cyanide process, all of which the assayer showed me,
was most interesting. The various articles used in assaying are very
delicate—scales that will weigh a breath and little wee china basins
the size of a doll’s cup. The splendid laboratory was full of different
chemicals; there were three immense rooms for the cyanide and assaying
processes.

Coming back to Cue, I called at the Lady Forrest Mine, which is in quite
a picturesque spot, and I was not surprised at the beautifully arranged
collection of wild flowers and ferns that the manager had picked around
the mine and dried. The mine not working, he had plenty of time to pursue
his favourite pastime of botany. He also showed me a fine collection
of choice orchids; these are found at the Granites, a few miles out.
Parrots, with brilliant colouring, and cockatoos, are to be seen about
here, especially when you are near a soak (well). Occasionally an iguana
glides along, looking like a tiny land-alligator. Iguanas, though not
agreeable to the eye, are considered almost sacred in the Bush, because
they destroy snakes.

The Island is a wonderful little place, a real treasure-house, 16 miles
from Cue. It is in the centre of the salt lake Austin (called after
Robert Austin, the explorer), from which it is separated by channels 1000
yards wide. The lake, like all Western Australian lakes, is dry; but when
the sun is shining on it it looks like a sheet of glistening gold.

The Mainland, dignified sometimes by the name of Salt Lake City, is
a few miles farther off. I do not know whether there are any Mormons
settled there or not. There are several good mines at the Mainland and
the Island. The reefs are highly auriferous. The Golconda is the largest
mine, giving very rich yields, and is now owned by an English syndicate.
The representatives of this mine are very careful not to let outside
people know too much about it; they keep the doors of the battery locked,
and no one is allowed to go in to inspect. The Island Eureka is a small
but rich mine owned by a syndicate on the Island. Mrs. Hurfit, who is
part-owner of the mine, lives close to it. This lady who is the first
white woman that came to these parts, showed me a fine collection of
specimens of all kinds of minerals found here. The gold quartz is very
beautiful. The jewellery Mrs. Hurfit has had made from it by Streeter, of
London, is unique, some of the polished quartz with veins of gold showing
through it being the handsomest I have ever seen.

[Illustration: COLONEL NORTH’S EXPEDITION TO MOUNT MAGNET]

Seeing a peculiar-looking place on a hill, I climbed up to see what it
was, and found a large hut composed of big flat stones. These stones were
lying around in great quantities. Some men were working near, but they
were Italians, and as they could not speak English and I could not speak
Italian, our conversation was nil. The view from the hill was charming;
the salt lakes shimmering in the sun, the flat country with the grass
and wild flowers, the low-lying purple hills in the background, a lovely
and most peculiar colouring in the sky, the rising stacks of the mines,
and the high metaphoric rocks in the distance, formed an uncommon and
pretty picture. Just as I was leaving, the sun came out with unusual
brilliancy, casting exquisite reflections on the glistening golden sand,
which seemed to crystallise into various forms. I almost felt as if I had
dropped into fairyland, but in a moment the sun hid behind a cloud and
the beautiful scene was gone.

There are about 150 people at the Island and Mainland, and they all
appear to be in comfortable positions. On the day I left it was raining
heavily, and I had to wait an hour at the station for the train, which
was late in arriving. This brought to my mind the story of a gentleman
who had promised to attend at a certain place and make a speech, but
found himself unable to do so on account of the heavy rains having
destroyed a section of the railway line. Accordingly he wired, “Cannot
come; wash out on the line.” The reply came: “Come any way; borrow a
shirt.”

At last the train made its appearance, and I took my seat and went to
Mount Magnet (not to be confused with Mount Margaret, which is in quite
a different part of the country), about 32 miles farther on. On arrival
there the railway station was so crowded that I could scarcely get out.
There were about 300 young men of all sorts and sizes, and with such
jolly smiling faces that I began to feel quite hilarious myself. They
turned out to be the successful footballers just returned from a match at
Cue. Several buggies and horses were waiting at the station, and I had no
difficulty in being conveyed to an hotel, which bore the significant name
of “The Oasis.”

My first impression of Mount Magnet next morning was that there were a
great many donkeys—I mean, of course, of the four-footed variety. They
seemed to perambulate the town in dozens, and a team of about 20 going
out of town with a wagon was a novel sight. I can assure you that, while
I was writing these words, two inquisitive donkeys put in their heads at
the door and almost said “Good-morning,” recognising a friend, perhaps.
The outlook from this place was very dreary, as nearly always seems to
be the case where gold is found. Several nice specimens had just been
brought into the hotel by a lucky prospector, some of the pieces weighing
several ounces. The Mount is about four miles from Magnet township, and
was named Mount Magnet in 1854 by Mr. Austin, because the stone was so
mineralised that it attract the compass to an extent which rendered it
useless. Despite the barren-looking country, there are many varieties
of wild flowers growing in the neighbourhood, and the desert octopus or
tiger-plant is most remarkable. It bears a fairylike pink flower, and
seems almost to be a living thing. The leaves of the plant are remarkably
sensitive, and there are numerous little caplike flowers fringed with
tentacles and filled with a sweet substance; any insect that approaches
is seized, and the plant, which grows only a few inches in height, and is
also known as “Rainbow” or “Fly-trap,” absorbs the life of it.

Five miles away is Boogardie, or Jones’ Well. A singular discovery was
recently made there. Portions of underground rock, on being broken, were
found to contain a living frog at a depth of 40 feet! Many of these have
been found. Query, how did they get there?

There are many tidy houses in the little township; one Hessian camp,
containing three separate rooms, was most tastefully arranged with pretty
art-muslin and cretonne, a nice carpet on the ground, and cane furniture
beautifully draped. The bedroom was quite elegant, and the kitchen had
cocoanut matting on the ground; there were, as usual, no floors. A bright
Peerless Cooker stove and spotlessly white dresser and crockery finished
as natty a little home as a man and woman could wish for. The men out
here all work their own claims, and are very comfortably off.

A few miles from Magnet is the Morning Star, a low-grade mine, but
still a paying one. Mr. Bryant, the manager, made me most welcome, and
explained to me very conclusively that, to make a mine pay, it is not
necessary to find gold in occasional very large pieces, and that a steady
quantity, though small, will, if the supply hold out, prove profitable.
The mine is worked almost entirely by men from Clunes, Victoria, where
Mr. Bryant formerly was; they have quite a camp of their own, and with
their reading-room and recreation-ground, where they play cricket and
football, they pass a very jolly life and seem quite contented. Total
abstinence is the rule of this mine. Before the train service was started
they had to cart all the machinery and stores 200 miles to the mine.
Farther on is Lennonville, another important mining centre, where rich
finds have lately been struck; and farther still, what is called the
10-Mile. There are many good mines in these localities. The Long Reef is
a fine mine, and with its magnificent new machinery looks imposing. The
plant is one of the finest in Western Australia, and there is enough good
ore to show profitable results for years to come.

[Illustration: Donkey Team, Mount Magnet]

Coming back from these mines I stopped at the Lennonville Hotel (to have
dinner), the landlady of which was the biggest woman I had ever seen, she
weighed over twenty-one stone.

The scenery of this district is far more pleasing than the barrenness
of Magnet township. There are plenty of enormous emus scudding through
the scrub, and occasionally a few kangaroos enliven the scene. Some of
the big hills are completely riddled with enormous holes made by the
earthworm. It must have taken centuries to make these tunnels. I thought
they must be mining excavations, but one of the mining managers, who is
a mining expert and engineer, and who ought to know, told me they were
the work of earthworms.

In another direction from Magnet is the New Chum Mine; farther on the Two
Chums, and others; all giving good results.

There is a fine hospital, with a skilful surgeon, such skill being very
necessary where mining accidents ate liable to occur. The country is by
no means unhealthy, and there were only four patients in the hospital
on the day I visited it. The nurses seemed to be very kind women, and
the patients said it was like being nursed at home to be in the Magnet
Hospital.

East Mount Magnet is about 50 miles away, and the coach journey to it is
tedious. There is a tidy little township, and some of the mines are very
rich. Mr. Zeb. Lane, before going to London last year, paid a visit to
this place, and took over the Windsor Castle Mine, a fine property, upon
which Mr. Lane estimates that there are 25,000 tons of good ore at sight
ready to pay handsome dividends. The Havelock Mine has given splendid
results, and a wonderful collection of specimens was recently lodged in
the Bank. Christmas Gift is another good mine, and not far off is another
rich find called Payneville. Several rich patches have been found and
hundreds of ounces of gold taken out of them. The district seems to have
a bright future before it. I was glad to return to Magnet, and to have
made my last coach journey for the present. One of the miners to whom I
was speaking looked so fearfully cadaverous that I asked him what was the
matter. He told me he had once been poisoned by lead in a mine, and had
never got the poison out of his system. I told him about the new cure by
electricity lately discovered. He seemed very thankful and said he would
see the mine doctor about it at once. Over 30 experiments with this cure
have lately been carried out successfully in England, and I hope it will
soon be generally known, and many cures made in the colonies.




CHAPTER XXVI

    Yalgoo—A Cold Welcome—Native Shepherds—Geraldton—Pearls—The
    Abrolhos—Dutch Navigators—Aborigines—Finis.


I reached the uninteresting township of Yalgoo at 2 o’clock, very
cold, tired and hungry. I stepped from the train with my portmanteau
and sallied out of the station to look for a vehicle to take me to the
hotel to which I had been recommended; but, alas! there was no sign of
a conveyance. A drearier-looking place I never saw. So disheartened did
I feel that I returned and got back into the railway carriage again,
intending to resume the journey and go on to Geraldton; but on looking
out of the now open window I saw so many nice and jolly-faced people
on the platform that I thought it might not be so bad a place after
all, so I took a second thought and got out of the carriage once more.
Approaching the gate I discovered a small boy in charge of a cart, on
which I placed my belongings, and told him to take them to the Emerald
Hotel, I walking behind. When we arrived there he put out my luggage
and left me. Not a soul was about the hotel or the street. I felt like
a sailor in a desert. I essayed to reconnoitre the place, and went in
and out of several rooms, with no result. I then tried the kitchen,
and found every one out there also, except the fire, which luckily was
in, so I took possession and sat down on a box to warm myself. Looking
out of the window, I saw two enormous emus stalking about and peering
into everything. I was afterwards told that they are the most curious
birds in existence, and their prying ways often cause them to be taken
captive. Presently the cook turned up; strange to say, a woman cook, as
most cooks in these parts are Japanese men. I asked her for some dinner;
she said she had none in the hotel, it was all at the railway station.
I may as well here explain that the proprietor of the hotel also caters
for the railway station, and his staff goes down there to attend to the
train passengers at the dinner-hour, everybody who requires dinner being
supposed to get it there. The whole male population of Yalgoo goes to see
the train come in; it is the event of the day. However, the cook made me
a nice cup of tea and some hot toast, and boiled some fresh eggs, after
partaking of which I felt myself again. Taking a look out of the front
door I saw the street just as deserted as ever, so, going into a bedroom,
I took a siesta until 4 o’clock, when sounds about the neighbourhood
told me that the townsfolk had returned from the railway station. I
accordingly went forth to make their acquaintance, and having done so I
am able to speak of them in the warmest terms.

The township being such a barren-looking place I was surprised, on
driving around, to find very beautiful environs. The rains had brought
up millions of wild flowers of all colours, and the grass and trees
were exceptionally green. There are a great many sheep stations in this
district, and the mines are a considerable distance away, so I did
not go to them. The exception was the Emerald Mine, which is almost
in the township, and which has returned its owners a large fortune.
Fifteen thousand pounds worth of gold was dollied out of it before it
was sold to an English company, who then erected machinery and crushed
large quantities of rich ore with big results. It was on this spot that
Yalgoo’s first find was made by a native shepherd and his lubra, who
told some prospectors that they knew of a quartz-heap with bright stuff
on it. You may be sure the prospectors lost no time in finding the heap;
other finds followed, and the Yalgoo rush commenced. Aboriginal shepherds
are almost the only ones to be had in the West, and they are not very
reliable; yet if any animal is lost they can always find it; they are
wonderful trackers, and can follow up the track of anything alive; this
power has been cultivated in them by hunting for food from infancy.

[Illustration: MARINE TERRACE, GERALDTON]

The next day I left Yalgoo, longing ardently for a breath of sea air
once more. After a journey of eight hours in the train I arrived at
Geraldton, on the shores of Champion Bay; the town nearest the point at
which the history of the colony really commences. It is a shipping port
for a large agricultural and pastoral country, although as yet only 2000
acres are under cultivation. I went for many beautiful drives, and one
night to a “social” given by the footballers, to which I was invited;
but as I did not dance, and contented myself with being a “wallflower,”
my participation in the enjoyment was not very keen; I consequently
returned early to my comfortable parlour at the Club Hotel. The new
public buildings here are quite an ornament to the town, and the people
may well be proud of them. There are also some other fine buildings and
many nice shops. Altogether Geraldton is a very jolly place in which to
spend a holiday. It can be reached from Perth by boat instead of the long
train journey of 297 miles, for the steamers going to the far north of
Western Australia and Singapore every fortnight always call; there are
also several coasting-boats. The extensive and rich goldfields of the
Murchison make Geraldton a very important place, and in course of time,
when the North is more known and visited, it will, no doubt, become one
of the most important towns in Western Australia.

Some beautiful pearls were shown me by a trader from Sharks Bay in the
North-west district of Western Australia, and I wished I were a queen
who could order a necklace of them. As it was I had to content myself
with one for a ring. They were really exquisite gems, especially three
pink ones. The trader also had two black ones, which are rare and very
valuable, but I prefer those of delicate hue.

Pearls to the value of £285,000 and pearl shell valued at £1,000,000
have been raised from the North West Fisheries during the last ten
years. Nearly two hundred luggers, with over a thousand Malay, Japanese,
Chinese, and Manilla men, with whites for officers, are engaged in the
pearl industry. For diving, natives are chiefly employed, they being
such wonderful swimmers and divers. Occasionally dissensions take place
between these mixed people and their masters. Not long ago a terrible
tragedy occurred on a pearling vessel, the _Ethel_, and the captain, his
son, and the first mate were cruelly murdered by some of the Manilla
and Malay crew. The offenders escaped at the time, but were afterwards
captured (chiefly by the instrumentality of a poor Chinese cook, who was
loyal), and have since paid the penalty of their terrible crime.

There is a pretty river near this place, called the Chapman, which falls
into Champion Bay. Garnets are found in the sand near the mouth of it,
and you may be sure that any one who visits the place spends some time
looking for the jewels. I was no exception to the rule, and found a few
small ones, but until they are polished they are not very beautiful.

The orange groves are exquisite, and produce quantities of splendid
oranges. Mr. Jupp, one of the growers, had just sent into Geraldton some
immense loads, the whole of his golden crop. The rainfall having been
exceptional in the previous season, the country was bright with grass and
flowers. It seemed quite a pity the fine grass should not be feeding more
cattle.

The view from the top of the lighthouse, where we stopped on the way back
from a river picnic, is very grand. The rocky Abrolhos, 35 miles away,
with the surrounding agricultural country, Champion Bay, and, farther
out still, the grand rolling Indian Ocean, make up a most impressive
scene. The lighthouse has a revolving white light, brilliantly flashing
every 40 seconds, and visible for 16 miles; two other lights, lower
down, showing red rays, visible from the north and south. Another day
I drove to Greenough Flats, a level and fertile plain, with many fine
crops, principally wheat, under cultivation. These flats were, no doubt,
in former days vast lagoons, which accounts for the unlimited supply of
good underground water. The grass is very nutritious, and the sheep and
cattle looked fat. At Minchooka, Mr. Redhead’s station, the stock was
looking exceptionally well, and a fine crop of wheat returned 26 bushels
per acre from 11 acres. Mr. T. McGuiness, of Greenough Back Flats, lately
had a peculiar experience while cleaning out his well, which is 96 feet
deep, and was dry. In the hope of obtaining a fresh supply, Mr. McGuiness
sank the well 13 feet deeper, and, when driving down his bar, struck
water, which spouted up so quickly and with such a rush that he had
hardly time to escape drowning; the water rose 30 feet in a very short
space of time.

The Greenough river runs between the flats, and there is a nice little
township, with public offices, hotels, churches, and many comfortable
dwelling-houses; there are also several large farms in the district,
which is a magnificent grain-producing one.

Newmarracarra Station, 20 miles from Geraldton, was formerly the property
of Mr. Maitland Browne, the resident magistrate, who at one time used
his land exclusively for horse-breeding. Thirty thousand acres of the
station are now utilised for sheep-farming at great profit, there are
24,000 sheep on the run in splendid condition, as well as many beautiful
high-bred cattle. Mr. McKenzie Grant, the owner, manages this station
himself, and has spent £55,000 on improvements. A grand water supply
comes from the Greenough river and also from twelve springs in different
parts of the land, which is very picturesque, with its hills and rich
flats, covered with waving grass, and, in some spots, is brilliant with
wild flowers. All kinds of native trees add beauty to the scene.

Mr. Broadhurst, to whom I am indebted for all the information relating
to the Abrolhos, 35 miles from the mainland, gave me, as a great favour,
a copper coin from the _Batavia_, wrecked there in 1629, also a part of
a pair of scissors that have nearly lost their form, and other relics of
the past. A very interesting curiosity is a pair of large silver buttons
with links, in splendid preservation and very slightly tarnished. The
figures on these buttons represent Joseph and Potiphar’s wife. The
Abrolhos are the abode of countless millions of birds, principally the
noddy and sooty tern, which in the breeding season congregate there
in such numbers that the sky is quite obscured by their flight, and
everything is in almost total darkness. The group of islands have been
leased from the Government since 1883 by Messrs. Broadhurst and McNeill,
who command a very large trade in guano. The main stations in the group
are Rat, Pelsart, and Gun Islands, on each of which there are commodious
managers’ quarters and laboratory, besides kitchen and quarters for 48
hands. No Australian should neglect to see the relics of the wrecks on
the Abrolhos that are in the Perth Museum. Mr. Broadhurst showed me a
book, printed in the Dutch language, that he accidentally came across
on a London bookstall in 1895, being then on a tour and engaged in
collecting information concerning early Australia. The book bore the date
of 1647, and has since been translated into English by Mr. Siebenhaur, a
Dutch gentleman in Perth, and proved to be, strange to say, a complete
narrative of the wreck of the _Batavia_ and the massacre of the people,
in 1629, at the Abrolhos Islands. The _Batavia_ was the commodore’s ship
of a fleet of eleven vessels sent from Amsterdam in 1628 to the East
Indies in search of treasure and to form a colony on one of the islands.
Storms arose, the commodore’s vessel was separated from the others, and
finally got down among the perilous banks of the Abrolhos, where the
vessel became a wreck. After much danger, the people, numbering several
hundreds—soldiers, sailors, women and children—were landed on two of the
islands, several trips having to be made between the ship and the shore
before this could be effected. Some water and bread was also got ashore,
as well as some cases of treasure, jewels, and gold-laced clothing
belonging to the Dutch Government that the commodore was anxious to save.
The ship shortly afterwards foundered and the hardships of the seafarers
commenced. It was found that there was very little fresh water on the
island, so the commodore, Pelsart, and several of the men set off in
the sloop, which had been saved, to the mainland to look for water for
their fellows. After much difficulty six of them succeeded in landing by
swimming, the shore being stony and rocky, and great breakers beating
violently against the rocks so that it was not safe to take the sloop
in too near. They saw smoke rising, and going towards it, saw four dark
figures creeping on their hands and knees, who, on the approach of the
sailors, leaped to their feet and fled away at full speed. Each carried
a stick, no doubt a boomerang. Around the fires were the bones of birds.
The savages were naked, and were the first ever seen on Australian
soil by white men. The sailors dug holes, trying to find fresh water,
but could find very little, and returned to the ship disconsolate. The
commodore then, knowing that by returning to the islands he could do
no good for his fellow sufferers, determined to return to Batavia for
assistance. On arrival there he obtained speedy help from the Government,
and provided with all necessaries and a good crew, at once set out again
for the Abrolhos to succour the shipwrecked people. On arrival there they
saw, close to where they had been wrecked, smoke from several fires, and
were much rejoiced, hoping to find all or most of the poor people alive.
Having cast anchor, the commodore, taking with him a cask of water, bread
and wine, went in his boat to the highest island, but on arrival there
found no one, at which he was much astonished. Jumping ashore, they saw a
little boat coming round the northern point with four men rowing; one of
them jumped ashore and welcomed the commodore, but begged him to return
to the ship, as there was a party of miscreants who intended to seize the
vessel. He then told the terrible story of the massacre. These miscreants
had murdered 120 people on the island, now called Pelsart Island, or
“Batavia’s Churchyard.” The commodore then sorrowfully returned to the
ship. The man who told the commodore all this was named Webbey Hayes,
and he with forty others had tried their best to save their comrades,
and were then on what they called Long Island. The commodore took some
boats and men and brought them away, arming them with muskets. With
these he proceeded to Batavia’s Churchyard and captured the mutineers.
They found them all dressed in the beautiful clothes trimmed with gold
lace belonging to the Government, and jewels were scattered about in
all directions. The mutineers were divested of their gay clothes, put
in irons and conveyed to Seal Island, to remain there till they should
be tried, which was afterwards done, and they were then executed for
their crimes. This is a very short and crude synopsis of the interesting
translation of the Dutch book of which I have spoken, but may serve to
give some idea of the Abrolhos. The many curios of this time that are
spoken of on page 51 are well worth seeing. Previous to this, in 1540,
Portuguese vessels had been driven on to the coasts of the Great South
Land, as it was called. Houtmann, a Dutchman who had served with the
Portuguese, had sighted the cluster of rocky islets and called them
Abrolhos, a contraction of the Portuguese “Abro vos olhos” (“Keep your
eyes open”). In far-back ages Chinese junks used to sail down to the Gulf
of Carpentaria, and the natives of that part of Australia are now said to
have a distinctly Mongolian cast of countenance. Marco Polo, at the close
of the thirteenth century, alluded to the Great South Land. Allusions
to this unknown land are also met with in writings dating as far back
as Alexander the Great in the fourth century; Strabo, Pliny and Ptolemy
also make mention of a mysterious territory, which was probably the
continent of Australia. Dampier is said to have been the first Englishman
to land on the coast of Western Australia, which was then, in the reign
of William III., called New Holland. His report was so unfavourable, that
Australia was left to itself again until 1770, when Captain Cook landed
at Botany Bay, New South Wales, and not until 60 years afterwards was
Western Australia found to be suitable for colonising. In 1829 the first
governor, Captain (afterwards Sir James) Stirling, with his family and
over 60 settlers, arrived at the Swan River and founded the settlement
which is now the city of Perth; two years previous to this, Captain
Fremantle had hoisted the British flag at the entrance of the river, and
the port of Fremantle is named after him.

[Illustration: Four generations of the Western Australian Native]

For some time past I have been collecting all the facts of interest
that I could concerning the natives of Australia, and have gathered a
really fine collection of the native weapons, boomerangs, nulla-nullas,
spears, waddies, womerahs, shields, &c. There are a good many aborigines
about Geraldton at present, but civilisation has made them lazy, and it
is not easy to get many of their weapons. Mine have chiefly been given
to me by friends who have gone to the trouble of collecting them for
years. The blacks are not a very pleasant race, still we ought to have
a kindly feeling for the poor creatures, whose chief capacities seem
to be hunting, fishing, and tracking. Their own laws, and the way they
keep them, are somewhat remarkable, especially those relating to the
affinities and the division of the people into families.

There are four tribes or clans amongst the aborigines of Western
Australia, namely—Booranggnoo, Banagher, Kimera, Palgarie. A Booranggnoo
man may marry a Banagher woman, their children will be Kimera; a
Banagher man may marry a Booranggnoo woman, their children will be
Palgarie; a Kimera man may marry a Palgarie woman, their children will be
Booranggnoo; a Palgarie man may marry a Kimera woman, their children will
be Banagher.

Children take the name of the mother, and intermarriage between the same
tribe is not allowed. Polygamy is permitted. A native may have several
wives and various families, but each family incurs the responsibilities
of the mother, and all such relations become involved in the guilt of any
crime; if the offender cannot be reached, any other relative may have
to suffer instead. In case of death by violence, the nearest relative
of the slayer is found and punished. Homicide in obedience to law is
therefore common among them. Their law is blood for blood, an eye for
an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Girls are betrothed when they are young,
and may be claimed at any time. A blackfellow must take his lubra (wife)
from the clan or tribe which alone is eligible to give a wife to him,
otherwise he becomes an outcast. The women are severely punished by the
men even for trifling offences. On the death of the husband the wives and
children pass to his brother; all property in land is held for hunting
and obtaining food. They are very fond of music and dancing, their songs
being chiefly extempore. The dances, or corroborees, are adapted to the
various circumstances of their lives—marriage, birth, death, war or
hunting. It is not usual for the women to take part in these dances, but
on rare occasions they do, and they carry a peeled stick tufted at one
end, as was the custom of the ancient Bacchantes. Songs are composed
by musical natives of the clan, and are soon learnt: every blackfellow
knows the songs of his clan, and if one is composed for any special
occasion it is soon learned. The food of these natives is very varied and
peculiar, one kind being the knomat, the gum of the swamp mimosa. There
are also six kinds of kangaroo eaten, two kinds of opossum, twenty-nine
sorts of fish, three kinds of turtle, emu, wild turkey, and many kinds
of waterfowl; frogs, seven kinds of lizards, four kinds of grubs,
twenty-nine roots, seven fungi, four gums, two kinds of manna, four
fruits, four nuts—two of the zamia, which are poisonous without proper
preparation—the seeds of many plants and the flowers of the banksia.
Cannibalism is not common, but has been known in the North and East.
The weapons employed are suited for the chase as well as war. These are
the codja or hatchet, the dabba or knife, the meera or throwing-stick,
the guicka or spear, the dowark or club, the womerah or digging-stick,
and the killy or boomerang, which they throw with great skill. Their
skill in hunting is remarkable, weirs are made for fish, stakes driven
to intercept the kangaroos at their watering-places, and the fish are
commonly speared by day and by torchlight. Their mias, or huts, vary
in construction from a light shell made of brushwood to a dome, large
enough to contain several persons, of logs covered with clay, and in size
according to season and locality. From the Murchison northward, and also
in the interior, the natives go naked; but southward, near the coast,
the dress is the “booka,” a sort of cloak made of kangaroo-skins, that
of the men being longer than that of the women, who use bags of skin,
coota or boka, and mats of vegetable fibre, for carrying their children
and domestic necessaries. They have many ornaments, and work opossum fur
with yarn to make girdles for carrying things and bands to twine round
the head to stick feathers in. They tattoo their bodies, and during the
operation of tattooing, other natives swing round small curved pieces of
wood, producing a whirring noise. They cover themselves with wilgey, a
sort of red ochre, charcoal, or white clay. They send messages by marked
sticks or bomar, the markings being quite intelligible to them, but to us
just looking like a number of jagged chips in the sticks. They are not
deficient in gratitude, but rather treacherous, although they will offer
themselves up for punishment, a thing which very few white men ever do.
They are very superstitious; the power of evil is a constant source of
terror to them. They have their karakats, boolga-men, or medicine-men,
able to inflict as well as cure diseases. They greatly fear an evil
spirit, Jingie, and an imaginary monster, Wangul, inhabiting the fresh
waters, and chiefly making victims of women. Each family has its kobong,
or cognisance, some animal or vegetable for which they have a reverence,
and which, therefore, is not used as food by the family who adopt it.
Some of the domestic and personal habits of the natives resemble those
inculcated by the laws of Moses. Their social intercourse is regulated
by very strict and ceremonious customs. There are forms of meeting,
also forms of parting. Mrs. Canfield, who had charge of the school at
Amesfield, Albany, especially reports their fondness for music. One girl,
sent to Sydney, played the harmonium in St. Philip’s Church for some
time. Several other native scholars have become good housewives; some are
now employed as school-teachers. Mrs. Canfield also notes the fondness of
the boys for mechanical arts. The native Mission home is near Guildford,
and another is in the Vasse district, but there are only about 40
children in each place. The natives around Geraldton are half-civilised;
in fact, some speak quite good English. I suppose the heavy fine of
£50 for supplying drink to natives keeps them sober, as they find it
difficult to obtain strong drink, of which they are very fond. They have
been known to go to a large heap of bottles, and taking one, empty into
it the dregs of all the others, until they get sufficient to take a
drink, which they seem to relish exceedingly.

[Illustration: Aborigines with Spears]

Native wells or “namma-holes” have saved may a prospector from death by
thirst, and men well used to the Bush soon know how to find them. Some
of the wells are not more than two feet deep; others go down to ten or
twelve feet, and are usually found by rock-holes, or certain trees that
are near them. Some wells have a small drive at the bottom, so arranged
by the blacks that, when the water gets shallow, it cannot be seen from
the top of the hole. The old prospectors have learned from the blacks
how to find these oases in the desert, but “new chums” might pass dozens
while parched with thirst and never find one.

After saying good-bye to the numerous friends I had made in Geraldton, I
set out for the south in the Perth mail-train, my destination, however,
being Dongarra, a little station 24 miles from Geraldton. On alighting
there I found that the hotel was some distance off, and I regretted that
I had got out of the train at all. However, a good-natured boy with
a cart solved my dilemma by saying: “Get up, missus, I’ll give you a
lift.” I accepted his invitation with much pleasure, and drove on through
wonderful grass lands. I thought, as it waved in the wind, that this must
be a cultivated crop, but found it to be common wild grass. A great deal
of the land about here is rented to the farmers at 10_s._ per acre, and
they have an average yield of 16 to 25 bushels of wheat and 30 bushels
of barley. Wheat can be grown at a large profit, as the cost of growing
it is not more than 4_d._ a bushel, and the timber being light in the
district, the expense of clearing the land is small.

There are a number of farms about Dongarra, which is one of the prettiest
little country places I have seen in the colony. The township is situated
near the mouth of the Irwin river, and so there is no lack of water.
There is a small and safe harbour at Dongarra, formed by a reef at the
river’s mouth, which is the outlet to the valley of the river. There are
many early settlers living here. The following notice that was fastened
on a tree I thought very comical: “If any man or woman’s cows or horses
get into this paddock, his or her tail will be forthwith cut off, with no
respect to persons.” This is on a par with a letter written by a justice
of the peace in one of the places that shall be nameless:—

    “To J. murphy: thars 5 kows of yourse runnin in mi paddock and
    if they aint tuk out be Frida nite ime goin to sit the lor agen
    yer; ime on the binch and ile make it warm for yer.”

The little hotel at Dongarra proved very comfortable, and next morning I
resumed my journey in the train, which took all day. In the afternoon we
stopped for awhile at a place called Watheroo. I gathered a pretty bunch
of wild flowers while waiting; some red ones especially took my fancy.
They smelt very sweet, something like honeysuckle. I found that they were
of the “verticordia” species, and that they grow in great profusion near
the Irwin river. In the evening, at seven o’clock, I left the train at
Gingin, for I wanted to see some of the famous orange and lemon groves
there. After quite a pastoral supper at the little inn where I put up I
retired early, feeling somewhat fatigued after my long journey in the
slow train. In the morning I set out to see some of the groves. The
forest scenery through which I passed looked particularly grand after
the monotony of the goldfields, and the beautiful orange groves further
enhanced the scene. I have seen oranges growing in various parts, but
the fruit hanging here in golden clusters was the finest I had seen
in Western Australia. In returning I stopped at a large garden, where
strawberries and other fruits were growing; some children were picking
the ripe fruit, which looked so tempting that I went to the door of the
little homestead and asked whether I could buy some. “Oh, certainly, and
cream, too,” replied the mother of the children, who had now come in with
their spoils from the garden. After I had finished my unexpected treat,
the mother put on her big white sun-bonnet (the usual head-covering in
country parts), and, with the children following, showed me all over
her selection and farm (which was a very fine one), and, with true
Australian hospitality, pressed on me many gifts of fruit and flowers.
There are about 350 people in the district of Gingin, mostly gardeners
and graziers; all kinds of cereals are grown, as well as the fruits I
have mentioned, and grapes of the finest quality are produced. Fat cattle
and horses are also raised for export; a splendid clear stream of water
runs near the township; sportsmen can have good shooting, for kangaroo;
wallaby and wild duck are abundant in the vicinity of this pretty little
place, which is 50 miles from Perth.

[Illustration: FREMANTLE]

In the morning I took the train for Perth and Fremantle, and on arrival
at the Perth railway station there, waiting for me, were my own horse
and Ralli car. Didn’t we spin along through the park? I thought of
the Mulga scrub and red dust “out back”; here the roads were red, but
“with a difference,” and the grass and the trees delightfully fresh and
green; surely the water never looked so sparkling. In and out through
the trees along the winding road we drove, past the little villas, with
their sweet gardens, up the hill, around the bend to the dearest spot on
earth, “Home, sweet home.” The house and verandah were almost hidden by
the glossy green leaves of the “Canadia” and passion vines; through the
lattice of the fern-houses peeped the delicate pink blossoms of the tall
ivy-geranium twined with the ever-flowering purple runner. The gate-porch
and garden fence were embroidered from end to end with blue and green.
Blue sea beyond, blue sky above. The gate was open, and thus my journey
of two thousand miles came to an end. I hope that my record of it may
help the reader to gain an idea of Western Australia.

Our hands are outstretched to our brothers and sisters across the sea.
We want them to come and work _with_ us. Energy and courage are the best
cards to bring out to this big land. Should they wish to see the country
for themselves, as I have done, I trust that my efforts will help to make
their tour as easy as possible.

Like all new countries, it has its rough uncultivated tracts, but I have
also tried to show that it has its “meadow sweet” as well. Hundreds of
thousands of acres of the soil are waiting to be tilled by strong willing
hands and to yield richly of its fruits, while underneath the earth is
“golden,” “golden,” overhead the glorious sun is shining, and the Austral
sky is blue.

[Illustration: MAY VIVIENNE]




FOOTNOTES


[1] These are names given to each other by the Australian-born people of
the then separated colonies.

[2] For most of these particulars of the early days of the goldfields I
am indebted to Mr. Calvert’s book, “The Coolgardie Goldfield,” 1894.

[3] A stope is the part of the workings in a mine between the levels.

[4] The levels are the drives, or excavations, at different depths in a
mine.

[5] Since the above was written the mine has been sunk over 100 feet, and
Mr. Merton has now gold valued at over a hundred thousand pounds.

[6] The nut of the tree that, when polished, makes pretty ornaments.

                   Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO.
                            London & Edinburgh

[Illustration: The Golden Butterfly]