Chapter II: Part 2

New South Wales possesses nearly as many sheep as the rest of
Australia together, and most of these are to be found on the
inland slope of the plateau and far out into the plains, more
especially in the Riverina district, between the Murray and the
Murrumbidgee. We have left behind us the wheatfield and the
reapers; the loaded waggons which we pass, drawn by long teams of 27
horses, are carrying great bales of wool to the railway. We may
follow the wool back to the shearing sheds where again all the 28
work is done by machinery; then we go on to the sorting shed, and
so to the railway and the showrooms at Sydney, where thousands
of samples are displayed for the benefit of the buyers for the 29
markets of Europe. We can see the great flocks of sheep before
and after the shearing at the homestead or follow them as they 30
are driven to pasture; and everywhere in this great river plain
we find the same thing repeated. The rainfall is not sufficient
for agriculture; but in ordinary years it will provide good grass
for the sheep; and there is also the drought-resisting salt-bush
to eke it out. Sometimes the rain fails, and then there is
neither food on the ground nor water in the creeks and pools, and
millions of sheep die, as in the great drought of 1901-2. The dry
climate gives the best wool in the world, but it is not without
its drawbacks; though the large profits made by the farmer in
ordinary years more than compensate for an occasional period of
drought.

The uncertainty of the rainfall shows itself in another way,
in the peculiarities of the rivers. Of all the great rivers in
this basin, the Murray alone, fed by the melting snows of the
Australian Alps, has a good supply of water at all seasons; the
rest are variable. The Darling, Lachlan and Murrumbidgee are
navigable for long distances in favourable seasons, and sometimes
are flooded and overflow their banks, turning the surrounding
country into a huge shallow lake; but at other times they become,
in places, little more than strings of detached pools. Here is a 31
lagoon on the Murrumbidgee, and here is the Murray evidently in 32
flood, to judge from the trees growing out of the water; another
view shows us the river in its ordinary state. By way of contrast 33
here is a small creek in the Riverina district; the road crosses
it by a ford, so that it is evidently not very deep, and would 34
soon dry up. But after heavy rains, further up-country, the creek
may become for a short time a roaring torrent. Settlers new to
the country have often made the mistake of camping in the evening
on the near side of a creek of this kind, only to find in the
morning that the ford has vanished and that they must stay where
they are until the water subsides. One of the most remarkable
features in Australian weather is this sudden change from drought
to flood, which not only transforms the rivers but in a few days
gives a covering of rich green pasture where before was a parched
desert supporting only the hardy salt-bush.

When the rivers are full we can see the shallow draught steamers
collecting wool and other products; but the want of water is 35
not the only drawback. The rivers wind greatly in their courses
over the level plain, so much so that at one place it is said
that the steamer takes a whole day to pass a particular house,
owing to the river bending right back upon itself. The river
banks are marked by lines of gum trees, by which the eye can
trace them for many miles across the level. Except for this, the
whole area crossed by these rivers in their lower courses is one
vast treeless plain, covered with grass and scrub in the rains,
but at other times dry, dusty, and monotonous. It extends into
Queensland and Victoria, but its greatest development is in New
South Wales: for though the other colonies have large flocks of
sheep, it is here that sheep-raising is the one industry above
all others; in fact, under ordinary conditions, no others are
profitable or even possible. In this country, next to the sheep,
water is the most valuable commodity.

The greater part of the Murray-Darling basin is filled up by
recent rock sediment and river alluvium; but the narrow belt of
country with a moderate rainfall, lying between the plateau edge
and the western plains, has not depended for its development
solely on agriculture. All along it the older rocks crop out,
and in the older rocks we find the valuable minerals in which
Australia abounds.

Gold, in its alluvial form, occurs all along the agricultural
belt; and since the time of the first discovery near Bathurst, in
1851, the search for gold has often caused an inrush of people
who have abandoned mining for the more secure and pleasant
business of growing wheat or rearing sheep. Though much gold is
still produced, New South Wales is not by any means the chief of
the States to-day in this respect; but gold has been woven deeply
into her history. One of the most usual methods of obtaining
gold is still by dredging alluvium; but in place of the shovel
and washing-pan we have the ugly machine dredger scooping out
the creeks and flats where the gold is to be found. We must look
elsewhere for gold-mining from the rock on a large scale; though
this is increasing in New South Wales in connexion with the
development of mining for other minerals, especially copper.

Well out in the plains, and south of Bourke, at the end of a
branch line of railway, is the town of Cobar; it stands just
where the old rocks are disappearing underneath the recent
deposits. Here is one of the chief centres of copper mining;
and, once the work was started, mining for other ores naturally
followed. It is a desolate country, rendered more so by the
nature of the industry. The furnaces for the rough smelting of
the ores need fuel, but coal is far away; so that the country
round has been stripped of its small supply of timber, and has
nothing left to relieve its ugly monotony. The ore, partly
worked, is sent by rail all the way to Lithgow, on the coalfield,
to undergo the further process of refining. The importance of
these mining fields to the State lies not so much in the money
value of the products as in the fact that they give rise to
railways and traffic and so to a further spread of the settled
agricultural population. The minerals, and especially gold, have
played a great part in the settlement of the less accessible or
less attractive regions of Australia.

The old rocks, which disappear at Cobar, under the alluvium
of the Murray basin, crop out again at the surface in the far
west, and give us one of the chief silver-producing areas of the
Continent. The natural outlet of the district is by Spencer Gulf,
as Sydney is more than twice as far away; and the development
of these mines has been largely due to the people and capital
of South Australia. Here is one of the most famous mines at 36
Broken Hill; and here we have the camel team, the only means of 37
transport away from the railway. We are in the semi-desert area,
and the existence of the mining population is only made possible
by collecting the water from the neighbouring hills in great 38
reservoirs, such as we see in the picture before us.

We have still to see the south-east corner of the State, where
we shall find some of the most picturesque scenery and a country
rather different from that which we have so far visited. We
take a line running south from Sydney, not along the coast, but
following the river valleys and so up again on to the plateau
at Goulburn. Here we branch off from the main line southwards
through the Monaro Plains; this is a high pasture land, thinly
populated, though there is a growing agricultural industry
in some of the more favoured spots. To the east of the plain
are the Coast Ranges, to the west the Snowy Mountains; both
extending over the border into Victoria. Cooma, the terminus of
the railway, about fifty miles from the State boundary, lies
nearly three thousand feet above sea-level. North-west of Cooma
is the town of Kiandra, in the Alps, where we find snow and
winter sports as in Switzerland. South-west of Cooma is Mount
Kosciusko, rising over seven thousand feet, the highest mountain
in Australia; here the snow lies even in summer. We reach it by 39
a road following the valley of the Snowy River, and can ride or 40
even motor up the track almost to the summit. Here are two views 41
of the river and its tributaries. Kosciusko is not an imposing
peak as we see from these pictures, but merely a flattened ridge 42
lying on the top of a great tableland, so perhaps we may be 43
somewhat disappointed in the outcome of our visit.

From Goulburn we begin the long descent to the level of the
Murray. We are again crossing the agricultural belt, and forty
miles west of Goulburn we break our journey at Yass. Here, on
the banks of a small stream, the site has been fixed for the
ideal city, the future capital of Federal Australia. Notice that
we can have here no great industrial and commercial centre, but
merely a town like Bathurst, a centre of farming and country
life. Perhaps in this it will be more representative of the
real Australia than are the larger cities. In position Yass is
nearer Sydney than Melbourne; but it is roughly halfway between
Brisbane and Adelaide; so that it is fairly central for the long
belt which contains most of the population of Eastern Australia.
The city is not to be allowed to grow haphazard; here we see 44
the surveyors’ camp and the surveyors at work, mapping out the 45
ground. In the distance is Black Mountain. The whole scene is
quiet and rural, but it will be very different in a few years’ 46
time. This deliberate choosing of a site for a new city is common
in Australian history; we may contrast with this the way in which
centres of population have grown up in the course of ages in old
countries almost of their own accord.

We continue our journey down the slope, and crossing the
Murrumbidgee at Wagga Wagga reach Albury, the border town. Here,
it is necessary to change trains to continue the journey to
Melbourne, for unfortunately the different States of Australia
did not plan their railways on the same scale. In New South
Wales the gauge of the lines is the same as that in England; in
Victoria and in part of South Australia there is a broad gauge;
while all the other railways in the continent are on a narrow
gauge of three feet six inches. This has been adopted as the most
economical for opening up a new country; but the differences have
led to great inconvenience and loss, where through connexion is
made between the main railway systems of the various States. We
may remember how, in our own country, the Great Western Railway
was forced to abandon the old and comfortable broad gauge, so as
to be able to work in connexion with all the other lines which
had adopted a narrower gauge; Australia has still to face the
problem of unifying her railways in this respect.

We have travelled for many miles over the railways, and now (13)
perhaps we may begin to notice certain peculiarities in their
arrangement. First there is the main-line system connecting up
the capitals. This runs north-east and south-west from Sydney,
roughly parallel to the coast. Only a short stretch of this is
on the low coastal plain; the rest is inside the plateau edge.
The line descends through the Victorian Mountains to the sea
at Melbourne; but goes inland again on its way to Adelaide.
Branching from this system, or starting independently from the
coast, is a whole series of lines running inland, roughly at
right-angles to the coast. Some are very short, some very long;
and they commonly end at a small town on one of the rivers. We
can trace them right round from the line between Normanton and
Croydon, in North-West Queensland, to that ending at Oodnadatta
in the desert region of South Australia. Except round Bathurst,
and in the country at the back of Melbourne, we shall not find
many branches or cross connexions. This curious arrangement can
only be understood in the light of the resources and historical
development of the country; we have already seen something of its
meaning in New South Wales.

We noticed that the line from Sydney left the sea at Newcastle
to follow the valley of the Hunter and scale the edge of the
Liverpool Downs. For two hundred miles north of Newcastle the
coast district lacks a railway; but in Clarence county, in the
extreme north of the State, there is a detached piece of line
running for a hundred miles not far from the coast, and touching
it at one or two points. This line has a meaning.

_Copyright._) (_See page 40._

ON THE DARLING DOWNS.]

_Copyright._) (_See page 41._

GLADSTONE.]

_Copyright._) (_See page 43._

TOWNSVILLE.]

_Copyright._) (_See page 46._

ABOVE THE BARRON FALLS.]

The district is warm, as it is low-lying, and not very far
from the tropic; while the south-east winds bring abundant rains.
It has been found to be well fitted for dairy cattle, and is
displacing to some extent the coast district south of Sydney
where the industry first started. Sydney still provides a good
local market for the dairy products of this northern region, but
there is also a growing trade with more distant places. We can
understand now the need of a railway to open up the country and
connect it with the sea.

Here is a typical dairy farm with the cattle clustered in the 47
shade on the banks of the creek. We notice the abundance of
trees, and the curious dead bare look of some of them. These have
been ringbarked, that is, a strip of bark has been cut away right
round the trunk; this process kills the tree quickly, and the
dead wood can then be burnt off. It is a rough and extravagant
method of clearing, and some of the forest, which grows
luxuriantly in this rainy district, is put to better use. In the
wetter parts are to be found the cedar and other soft ornamental
woods; in the drier, are the various hard woods of the eucalyptus
family, especially the ironbark and the blackbutt. It was the
timber which attracted the first settlers to this district, 48
though the difficulty of transport has prevented them from making
much use of it up to the present. Here we see the felled timber
lying ready for removal; it must be dragged over rough tracks, 49
often for long distances, by teams of horses and bullocks. We
can gain some idea, from these pictures, of the huge size of the
trees and the difficulty of forest development. Evidently the
forest further inland can only be attacked by the aid of the
railway. We shall find similar conditions in Queensland; in fact,
we may look on this coast strip as giving us geographically the
beginning of the Queensland coast conditions; for round Grafton,
at the southern end of the railway, we find the cultivation of
the sugar-cane.

We have seen the beginning of the new capital of Federated
Australia; we will now, before visiting Queensland, cross Torres
Strait, with its innumerable islands and reefs, for a glimpse of
Australia’s new tropical colony. British New Guinea, or Papua
as it is now officially styled, was annexed in 1888, owing to
pressure from the Australian colonies, and more particularly
Queensland. From the first, Queensland, New South Wales and
Victoria contributed to the cost of administration; and in 1906
the new Commonwealth Government took over the entire control.

British Papua is a curiously shaped corner, carved out of the 50
eastern end of the great island of New Guinea. The western end of
the island is entirely Dutch; the eastern we share with Germany.
We may think of British Papua as two separate blocks, as the Gulf
of Papua almost divides the territory into two. In the west is a
rectangular area, with a low marshy coast, fringed with mangroves
and split up by river deltas, especially that of the Fish River.
The dividing line in this district between British and Dutch
territory is merely a line of longitude. The country is mostly
unexplored, except along the Fish and Strickland Rivers, and the
natives are still fighters and cannibals. On the north of this
block of country, and continuing south-east through a long narrow
peninsula, is a high mountain backbone, on the other side of
which is German territory. The eastern peninsula is mountainous
everywhere; while the whole country is wet, densely forested
and difficult to penetrate. The peninsula ends in a string of
islands, mostly volcanic.

The colony is in the first stage of organisation, when the main
problem is to reduce the native to some kind of order. Let us see 51
what he is like and how he lives. Here are two inhabitants of
the coast district; they seem very different from the aborigines
of Australia. Notice their frizzy hair, standing out in a great
mop, and their bracelets and necklaces. The Papuans are fond of
personal adornment. Here is a girl from the same district; she 52
wears an elaborate girdle of grass. Behind her we see the end
of a curious canoe, with an outrigger. The canoe is important
to the Papuan, since he commonly plants his village at the
water’s edge. Here is a village, and here is a nearer view of 53
some of the houses; they are merely covered platforms, built 54
on piles. Fighting and headhunting are still the amusements of
the tribes which are not yet brought under our control, but
conditions are changing rapidly for the better. Here is one of 55
the instruments of the change, the native village constable,
who seems quite proud of his office. Behind him, law and order 56
are represented by the visiting magistrate with a small force
of armed constabulary. The chief difficulty in opening up the
country is that of movement. Everywhere we find forest, mountain,
and unbridged streams. Here is the kind of track through which 57
the explorer must force his way, and here we see two methods of 58
crossing a stream. The native bridge hardly seems calculated for
heavy traffic. We may realise from these pictures the nature of 59
the task of controlling the natives of the interior, such as
the formidable pair in front of us. Even when reduced to order 60
the Papuan is not anxious to develop the country by work on
plantation or mine.

Port Moresby, the capital, stands on a fine bay in a relatively
dry district. Here a few score white people represent the
influence of civilisation. The climate forbids effective
settlement. Here we see a European house with its staff of 61
servants, and here is the steamer which links Papua with the 62
mainland. It will be interesting to see how Australia solves the
various problems of her new tropical Dependency. In Queensland we
shall find similar problems, though in a modified shape.

LECTURE III

QUEENSLAND

The land route from New South Wales to Queensland does not at
present follow the sea-coast. The railway at Newcastle turns up
the valley of the Hunter River, climbs the steep edge of the
plateau, to run along the eastern rim of the Liverpool Plains
and the Darling Downs, and then descends again by a steep pass
to the sea-level at Brisbane. At the little frontier station of
Wallangarra we must change trains, since the Queensland railways, 1
as we have already noticed, are on a narrower gauge than those of
New South Wales. This would be a very serious matter but for the
alternative route by sea to Sydney; this is the natural route for
heavy goods, since nearly all the important towns of Queensland
are on or near the sea-coast. Before the advent of the railway,
the sea was the sole means of intercourse for all the towns on
the eastern rim of Australia; even in our own country, where the
railway system is highly developed, the coasting trade is still
of very great importance.

_By permission of the Diagram Co._]

The course of the railway suggests that the structure of the
country is not unlike that which we have seen in New South Wales. 2
This is true of the Darling Downs area, but further north the
map shows us a somewhat different type of country. The eastern
part of the State consists in the main of a broken and irregular
highland mass; the west of rolling plains, sloping gently towards
the interior or the Gulf of Carpentaria; but we look in vain
for a long, well-marked escarpment, such as we find further
south. The mountain ridges seem to run in every direction,
sometimes, as near Cairns, forming a definite coast-range, at
others striking inland or running down in spurs to the sea; so
that the country is split up into a number of distinct basins,
each with its own group of rivers flowing in the most diverse
courses. Thus, from Cairns to Brisbane a great stretch of
country, broadest in the middle, narrow at both ends, drains
into the Pacific; but the Burdekin and the headwaters of the
Fitzroy flow for long distances parallel to the coast, before
turning and breaking through the ranges to the sea. Another
group in the south joins the Murray-Darling system and belongs
physically to New South Wales; the rivers of the north-west and
of the Cape York peninsula drain for the most part into the Gulf
of Carpentaria, while a large block of country in the west and
south-west is occupied by intermittent streams, which in time of
flood find their way into the inland basin of Lake Eyre, in South
Australia. The country has not that simplicity of relief which we
found over the greater part of New South Wales, and, as we might
expect, the rainfall does not show such clear and symmetrical
divisions. The fall from the south-east winds is more irregular 3
and more widely distributed inland than in New South Wales; while
in the north there is an area with tropical rains of a monsoon
type.

On our railway journey we have crossed from one State to another,
but we must notice that, except in the south-east corner, the
boundaries of Queensland have no relation to the natural features
of the country; they are merely mathematical lines. The reason
for this is to be found in the method by which the settlement
was carried out. Moreton Bay was one of Cook’s landing-places in
1770; but the Brisbane River, flowing into it, was not discovered
until 1823; the first settlement was formed in 1824, and the
Province remained part of the mother State until 1859, when after
much agitation it became an independent settlement. The interior
was not explored at the time, so that the only way of determining
a boundary was to follow a line of latitude or longitude. A
similar method has been used in more recent times in parcelling
out unexplored regions of Africa among the European Powers. The
western boundary of the new State was the line of longitude 138°
E., and what is now the Northern Territory remained nominally
part of New South Wales, which thus consisted for a short time of
two areas widely separated.

The very name of the city of Brisbane recalls the connexion with
the older colony, since Sir Thomas Brisbane was Governor of
New South Wales in the years 1821-5, at the time of the first
settlement. The city stands, not on the shores of Moreton Bay, as
we might expect, but twenty miles up the river, on both banks, 4
which are connected by the Victoria bridge. Here is a view over
the bridge from the north bank; and here is a wide view of the 5,6
river beyond the city. There is plenty of space in Brisbane,
with its suburbs, for the population of 100,000; there are
parks and gardens everywhere, and a large number of fine public
buildings. Here are the library and the Executive Buildings in
a beautiful garden, with a statue of Queen Victoria; here again 7
the Parliament House, and here one of the main streets of the 8
city. We have nothing like this in any town of the same size in 9
England, but we must remember that Brisbane has been built for
the future, and is the capital of a State more than three times
the size of France.

Brisbane lies in the extreme corner of Queensland, not, it may
seem, a very good position for the capital; but the south has
the more temperate climate, while behind Brisbane is some of
the most fertile land in the State. Westward a railway runs for
nearly five hundred miles, at right-angles to the coast-line, to
Charleville on the Warrego; we are about to make a rapid survey
of the country from it. Twenty-five miles out, we pass through
Ipswich, at the head of the river navigation; it is a busy town
with valuable coal mines and the main railway works of the State.
Then we climb again the steep plateau edge, which we descended
on our journey from Sydney, and come out at Toowoomba, on the
Darling Downs, fifteen hundred to two thousand feet above the
level of the sea.

The Darling Downs country was reached in 1827, by Allan
Cunningham, botanist and explorer, who travelled by way of the
Hunter River and the Liverpool Plains; but the journey was
difficult, and the first occupation was not until 1840, when
Patrick Leslie brought over a few sheep and settled in the
neighbourhood of Warwick. Others soon followed; the direct road
to the coast was discovered, and the basin of the Condamine River
became a great pastoral country where fortunes were made by the
early squatters. There is less rain here than on the eastern
side of the plateau edge, but it is sufficient for agriculture,
and there is plenty of water in the streams. Much of the soil is
volcanic in origin, and of great fertility, so that the land is
wasted on sheep. Here we see the natural grass in this fertile 10
region, and here is a great sheep run. The rancher’s home, which 11
we have next, suggests comfort and success. At the present time, 12
with the aid of the Government, the great pastoral properties are
being broken up gradually, and sold or let to farmers; so that a
district which started as a sheep run bids fair to become one of
the most important agricultural areas in Australia. Toowoomba, 13
the chief centre of this fertile district, has already the air
of a busy and prosperous market town, as we may judge from the
picture here.

As we travel further west the country becomes drier and rather
less fertile, so that agriculture gives way more and more to
sheep. The conditions are not unlike those which we found to the
west of Sydney; and we have seen that the Condamine and other
rivers of this area all belong to the New South Wales river
system. In fact we are crossing the northern end of the long
agricultural belt which lies behind the coast ranges. Though we
are close to the Tropic, the climate is not very different from
that further south, owing to the height of the plateau above
the sea. There are even slight frosts in the winter. Further
north, we shall find a marked change; wheat disappears and sheep
give way more and more to cattle. The cause of this lies in the
different conditions of rainfall and temperature. To visit this
country to the north we must return to Brisbane and resume our
journey along the coast.

Our first port of call is Gladstone, nearly three hundred miles
north of Brisbane, on the landlocked inlet of Port Curtis, one of
the finest natural harbours on the whole coast. Here is a view of 14
the bay and the jetty. As we see, there is no very great trade 15
at present, no line of wharves and warehouses; the importance
of Gladstone is in the future; its chief business at present is
the shipment of meat and cattle. A short railway journey takes
us to Rockhampton, which lies some distance up a river, the 16
Fitzroy; in this it resembles Brisbane. Near Rockhampton we find 17
a steamer loading frozen meat from the factory. From Rockhampton
the central railway runs nearly due west for over four hundred
miles, to the Thompson River on the Bowen Downs. There is also
a railway along the coast to Brisbane, linking up the various 18
small seaports; but this line is a late construction. The typical
railway of Queensland starts from the coast and runs directly
inland; and the development of the country follows the same
course.

As we follow this inland line, in the wetter districts near the
coast we find cattle everywhere. Further west, where the rainfall
grows less, there are more sheep; but the area of considerable
rainfall is much greater than in the districts further south,
owing to the broadening out and irregularity of the eastern
highland mass. The whole of this moist area is particularly
suited to cattle.

Before the settler can begin either cultivating the soil or
raising cattle, there is much preliminary work to be done. A
large part of Eastern Queensland is covered with forest or scrub,
which must be cleared by cutting down and burning. Here we have
a settler starting operations in a rough camp: he seems to have 19
a difficult task before him. Here he has reached the stage of a
permanent hut, with a small area of cultivated land round it, and 20
beyond, roughly fenced pasture with the remnants of the forest
showing in it. Here again are the cattle feeding in pasture 21
where the trees have been ringbarked and so partly destroyed.
To destroy, cut down, and burn trees which may yield valuable
timber may seem an extravagant method, but the settler here has
even less choice than in the Grafton district of New South Wales,
where we saw the same methods employed. The timber is certainly
valuable. Here are specimens of the hardwoods which we use for
street pavements and railway sleepers, and for other purposes
where great strength and endurance are needed; these are the
blackbutt and Queensland Karri pine, and there are many other 22
varieties. The difficulty is to get them to the markets where
they are wanted. Here we see one method; a trainload of sleepers 23
is leaving the sawmills, bound for India; but the railways are
few and in many districts the logs must be dragged at a slow rate
by bullock teams to the banks of the nearest creek, where they
lie perhaps for months until there is enough water to float them
down to the larger rivers and so to a seaport. This method is
commonly used for the cedar which grows near the coast, and we
have already seen it in New South Wales. Except in a few places
easily accessible, the natural forest wealth of Queensland is as
yet hardly touched.

The railway which we have been following from Rockhampton runs
almost along the Tropic. Townsville, our next landing-place,
over eight hundred miles north-west of Brisbane, is well within
the Tropic, yet in many ways it resembles Rockhampton and
Gladstone. From this point another long line runs inland to
end on a tributary of the Diamantina, about a hundred miles
north-west of the terminus of the line from Rockhampton. We
may notice that both these lines, after crossing the wide area
of coastal drainage, reach the streams flowing into the Lake
Eyre basin. They thus form real links with the interior. After
Brisbane, Rockhampton and Townsville are the most important 24
ports in the State. Townsville lies on a broad open bay, and
the harbour has been made at great cost by building out long 25
jetties. This has been done because here is the sole outlet for
a very large area of country to the west. Here we find more meat 26
and cattle; and again at Bowen, a small port on a fine natural
harbour which we passed further south, they are landing cattle
for the local stockbreeders. In short, the whole of this north
and north-eastern district is the home of cattle; cattle running 27
on the cleared scrub lands and pastures of the interior, or
fattening on the rich alluvial lands round the creeks near the
coast, where the surroundings, as we see from this picture, are 28
very different.

The coast region itself has something of far greater interest
than cattle. There is here a higher uniform temperature than
in the uplands, and in some parts a very heavy rainfall; the
result is the growth of tropical and sub-tropical plants, and of
these plants one of the most interesting to us is sugar. We find
sugar-cultivation in patches, all along the coast from Brisbane
northwards; and a little even in the extreme north of New South
Wales, since the change in climate is very gradual in the coast
region. But the most important districts for sugar lie near or
inside the Tropic, where the cane is grown on the rich alluvial
lands of the coast plains and river valleys.

On our voyage to Townsville we passed Mackay, one of the chief
centres of sugar-production; outside the Tropic is Bundaberg,
where the cane is grown by the aid of irrigation; while in the
far north is the important district of Cairns. The fertile land
is covered with dense scrub and must be cleared; here is a 29
clearing in progress; notice that the scrub is different from
that which we saw up-country: it is palm. Within two years of
planting the shoots the cane is ready for cutting, and in the
northern districts we can go on for many years cutting the new
canes as they spring up, without the need of re-planting. Here
is the cane growing by irrigation in Bundaberg, one of the drier 30
districts, and here is the reaping of the harvest. We notice 31
that the cutters are white men. In the early days of sugar, the
cultivation was on large estates, each manufacturing its sugar
in its own mill. The heavy work was done by Kanakas, imported
from the islands of the neighbouring Pacific. This is no longer
allowed, and the cane is grown more and more on small farms, by
white labour. The growers then sell it to a central mill, where
the cane is crushed and the juice extracted. Some of the mills
are owned by the small farmers on the co-operative principle, but
more often the miller has nothing to do with the growing of the
crop. Here we see a trainload of canes bound for the mill. There 32
is now a Government bounty given for sugar produced entirely by
white labour, and it seems to have been proved that, on the small
farming system, it can be grown thus and show a good profit. But
there are other and more attractive occupations for white people
in Queensland, and though the whole coast, right round to the
Gulf of Carpentaria, is suitable for sugar, it does not seem
likely in the near future to become a large industry in a White
Australia.

Sugar is one of the most interesting and valuable of the tropical
products of the coast region; but many others are grown, some for
the market, others hardly beyond the experimental stage. Let us
look at some of these. Here at Woombye are pineapples and bananas 33
growing; and on the Johnstone River huge crates of bananas are 34
being shipped for the markets in the towns further south. At
Kuranda, on the Barron River, is a large coffee plantation where 35
we may see the bushes growing and follow the berry as it is
dried and husked. Here we notice the pruning of the coffee bush, 36
and here is a fine specimen with the pruning completed. Not far 37
away, in the State Nursery at Kamerunga, we find all kinds of
tropical plants growing side by side. The nursery is an official
experiment ground, since the Government is anxious to test the
possibilities of the region for all kinds of economic plants. We
walk down a fine avenue of palms and visit the quarter where they 38
are experimenting with rubber trees. Here is a large plantation 39
of the trees, and here we see the method of tapping. In a corner 40
we come on a curious African rubber tree, in which the juice
exudes, not from the bark, but from the fruit. More prosaic, but 41
none the less useful, are the fibre plants, such as sisal hemp,
of which we have a fine specimen here. Cotton-growing has also 42
been attempted on a small scale, and the Commonwealth Government
provides a bounty for its encouragement. The main difficulty is
the high cost of labour for its cultivation. Here we see the
picking of the cotton. We may gain some idea from these gardens 43
of the great variety of tropical and sub-tropical plants, all of
which will grow well on some part of this northern coast. The
only need is labour to clear the scrub and make full use of the
fertile alluvial soil and the warm rains.

Clearing is very necessary in this region since the bush
grows with great luxuriance. By travelling inland a few miles 44
from Cairns we may find a picture of the bush in its natural
state. The coastal plain south of Cairns is very narrow, for in
the background, a short distance inland, are various mountain
ranges such as the Bellenden Ker range, said to be the highest 45
in Queensland. Only twenty miles from Cairns, in the foothills
of one of these ranges, the little Barron River comes tumbling
down in rapids and falls, amid some of the finest scenery in 46
Australia. Here is the river a short distance above the falls; 47
and here are the falls themselves from above and below. The 48
railway, following the course of the river, brings us to the 49
little township of Atherton. Here is the main street. We notice 50
here a Chinese joss-house; this may serve to remind us that 51
there are other immigrants besides the Kanakas in this northern
region of whom account must be taken by the advocates of a White
Australia. The Chinese have already spread all over the Malay
region to the north, and might equally occupy tropical Australia
if special measures were not adopted to check their immigration.

In the country round Atherton we have all kinds of typical bush
scenery. At one spot we pass giant fig-trees overhanging the
road; next we enter the denser bush. We find lakes in the bush, 52
of which the chief is Lake Eachem, which we have seen before.
Everything suggests warmth and moisture. The rivers, lakes, and
natural vegetation of this region, together with the fertile soil
in the low-lying strip between the mountains and the sea, give us
a picture of the conditions which prevail along the greater part
of the Queensland coast. Here is a tropical garden, typical of 53
the coast. Similar conditions extend right across the northern
edge of the Australian continent.

We have seen that the coast strip at Cairns is very narrow:
behind the mountain edge we shall find the rivers flowing west
into the Gulf of Carpentaria. As we travel westward we enter
rather a different type of country. There is less rain than on
the coast, but more than in the interior further south. We must
remember that in this part of Queensland we are getting near the
zone where a heavy monsoon rain sweeps in from the Pacific in
summer. All this country is well fitted for cattle; but it is
as yet thinly peopled, since there are few railways, so that it
lacks an outlet to the sea. The existing railways are intended
to serve the mining districts, since the gold of this region
has been the chief attraction up to the present time. There are
goldfields scattered all along the eastern side of the highlands.
On the Cooktown line is Palmerville; on the Townsville line are
Charters Towers and the Cape River field; near Rockhampton is
Mount Morgan, one of the most famous mines in the past; it has 54
given rise to a large town which we see here. Here, too, we see
the crushing of the ore, preliminary to the chemical extraction 55
of the gold. Near the coast, north of Brisbane, is the Gympie
field, and in the far north, near the Gulf of Carpentaria, is
Croydon. There are many smaller fields, and we can easily see
the connexion between the railways and the gold. There are other 56
minerals, too, in this area, so we see a whole township based on
tin, and another growing up round a copper mine. 57

Some of the railways have done more than develop the mining
areas; they have been pushed westward into the pastoral country
on the long inland slopes of Queensland. We have already followed
the southern lines for some distance, and we must now carry our
exploration beyond the railway zone, for a very large area in
the State is as yet quite untouched by railways. This area will
be greatly reduced by the execution of the scheme contemplated
by the State Government for linking up all the railways both
along the coast and inland. First there is the country in the
basin of the Flinders River, round the southern end of the Gulf
of Carpentaria; this is being opened up slowly from the sea.
It contains much good pasture land, and already feeds a large
number of cattle. Further south is the drier country where the
streams drain towards the Lake Eyre basin; this is part of the
Rolling Plains which occupy West and South-West Queensland and
the north-west corner of New South Wales. This area is most
interesting owing to the possibility of obtaining water from
beneath the ground.

The rainfall is somewhat scanty, and in the dry weather the
creeks lose themselves in the desert sands or become mere
strings of waterholes. There may be enough food for the cattle
or sheep, but they must have water also, and this can only be
found underground. In the higher country to the east, where the
rains are relatively heavy, are large areas where the water sinks
readily into the ground, as the rock is porous. A long way below
the surface it is held up by impervious strata of clay or rock
and begins to creep away downhill towards the west and the Gulf
of Carpentaria. To the west the surface also becomes impermeable,
so that the water is confined between the two layers, and can be
reached anywhere by boring through the top covering. Sometimes in
these boreholes the water does not rise as far as the surface of 58
the ground, and so must be pumped up; but more often it spouts
out with great force, as we see it here. Some of these artesian
wells give over a million gallons a day, and penetrate for three
or four thousand feet into the earth. The water is often warm and
charged with salts; but this does not seem to harm the cattle.
The water from the bore is run off into trenches extending
perhaps for miles, so that there is plenty of room for the cattle
to drink. By the aid of these wells cattle can live in the
country all the year round; and even the desert stock-route
from South Australia to Queensland can be kept open in the dry
season. The utilisation of a simple geological fact is changing
the whole face of the country.

_Copyright._) (_See page 55._

ON THE BANKS OF THE YARRA.]

_Copyright._) (_See page 56._

WASHING GOLD DUST.]

_Copyright._) (_See page 60._

KING’S BRIDGE: LAUNCESTON.]

_Copyright._) (_See page 65._

SCAFFOLDING A TREE.]

We have already seen that most of the chief towns of Queensland
lie on or near the coast, and that there are many harbours, often
protected by islands. The towns are there because the country was
developed for the most part from the sea, and in fact settlement
inland is still confined to the neighbourhood of the railways
running up-country from these coast towns. The harbours are there
because the land has sunk and the coast is partly drowned, giving
deep sea-inlets, often where the sea has flooded some old river
valley. As the coast gradually sank, the coral builders were at
work, piling up their reefs in the warm shallows. So we get the
Great Barrier Reef, stretching for fifteen hundred miles along 59
the coast and leaving a calm though rather dangerous channel
between itself and the mainland. The reef is really a series of
reefs, resting on a platform of older rock, and pierced with
numerous openings, especially where the larger rivers enter
the sea; for the coral will not grow in fresh water. In the
neighbourhood of this reef, especially in the north, towards
Thursday Island, fishing for pearl oysters is largely carried on.
The oysters are valuable for the mother of pearl, rather than for
the pearls themselves, which are very small. Here, too, is found
in great quantity the trepang, or sea slug as it is sometimes 60
called, looking like millions of brown cucumbers crawling over
the reef. Here is a portrait of one kind of the trepang; it does 61
not seem very appetising, but the Chinese consider it a great
delicacy. Nearly the whole of the trepang gathered in this region
is exported to China, after being first cooked and dried. The
rest is eaten by the natives, as it does not appeal to European
tastes.

In New South Wales we did not encounter the aboriginal
Australian, since there he has practically disappeared. But he
still survives in considerable numbers in parts of Queensland,
where the country is less favourable for white occupation or has
been settled for a shorter period. Government at the present
day protects the aborigines as far as possible; but none the
less they are steadily dying out and do not count in the future
development of the country. We have already seen how, for the
hard work of the plantations, the brown men from the islands
of the Pacific were brought in, as there was no native labour
available. The Kanaka has now been rejected, and Australia
steadily refuses to admit the Chinese, who seem to be able to
adapt themselves to any country and any climate. So the future of
this northern part of the continent depends largely on the extent
to which the natural resources of the country, as distinct from
its minerals, can be exploited by purely white labour. Some parts
of the coastlands are clearly not fitted for European occupation,
and the policy of a White Australia is only rendered possible by
the fact that the elevation of much of the country within the
Tropic greatly modifies the climatic conditions. If Northern
Australia had been a great lowland, its history must have been
far different.

LECTURE IV

VICTORIA AND TASMANIA

Following the example of the original settlers, we will approach
Melbourne from the sea, as in this way we shall perhaps get the 1
clearest view of the peculiarities of the State of Victoria. From
Sydney to Cape Howe, we are still following the coastal plain of
New South Wales, with the plateau edge in the background. But
when we round Cape Howe and turn westward the coast changes:
a series of mountain ridges runs down to the sea, ending in
promontories with fiord-like inlets between them. The eastern end
of Victoria is occupied by an irregular mountain mass, trending
on the whole north and south. West of the mouth of the Snowy
River, the coast scenery changes again, and we have Ninety Mile
Beach. Here long banks of sand, brought by the strong currents
from the west, have silted up the mouth of an old river valley.
The water is thus held up and spreads out into lagoons, which 2
communicate with the sea here and there through narrow channels.
Further west still are isolated mountain ranges, one of which
ends at Wilson Promontory, the southernmost point of the mainland
of Australia. In the bight between this promontory and Cape
Otway, lie Western Port and Port Phillip, wide bays with narrow
entrances. Beyond Port Phillip the coast is fringed by the Otway
ranges; and then follows a low plain, with few inlets or good
harbours, a region of lakes and swamps. So we see three great
irregular curves or bights, with great variety of coast-line;
Port Phillip lies at the top of the middle curve. It is a 3
drowned valley, like the lagoons further east, and is almost
blocked at the mouth by the drifting sands. It is the only good
natural harbour on this part of the coast, and is still the
centre of settlement and of the area of densest population.

Though the harbour of Port Phillip was discovered at the
beginning of the nineteenth century, it was over thirty years
before a permanent settlement was planted on its shores.
Something was learnt of the country in 1824, when Hume and
Hovell, travelling overland from New South Wales along the route
now partly followed by the railway, reached the spot where
Geelong now stands. The coast at that time was unoccupied, except
for a few whalers who were settled at Portland in the far west.
The real occupation of Victoria was brought about by the fusion
of two distinct streams of immigrants, one coming by land, the
other by sea. In 1836 Sir Thomas Mitchell, one of the greatest of
the New South Wales explorers, came over from the Murray basin
and discovered the fertile plains at the back of Port Phillip;
Australia Felix he named this country of promise. His report on
the country led to a rapid movement from New South Wales over the
border southward. But the journey from Sydney by land was long
and arduous, and the southern part of Victoria, like the coast
region of New South Wales, was most easily and naturally settled
from the sea.

In 1835 a Tasmanian, John Batman, representing a syndicate of
Tasmanians, surveyed the site of Melbourne and tried to buy it
from the natives; but the New South Wales Government refused to
sanction the arrangement. Still other Tasmanians followed, and a
body led by Fawkner actually settled on the Yarra in 1835. The
two parties naturally quarrelled and the matter was complicated
by the fact that New South Wales claimed the whole territory. The
British Government supported this claim, and, as a result, in
spite of the difficulty of communication, the people of Melbourne
had to send their parliamentary representative to Sydney for
some years. At length, in 1851, the Port Phillip district became
independent and was re-named Victoria. The name of the State and
its capital easily remind us of its history; for the official
founding of Melbourne was in 1837, when Queen Victoria came to
the throne and Lord Melbourne was Prime Minister.

Melbourne and Port Phillip have not the picturesque appearance
of Port Jackson and Sydney; the broad, lagoon-like harbour does
not lend itself to scenic effects, and we have not the deep-water
inlets penetrating the heart of the city which add so much to the
beauty and utility of Sydney. Melbourne is built on the level,
with broad, straight streets and fine buildings, modern and
handsome, a typical Australian city. Here are Collins Street and 4,5
Bourke Street. Here again are some of the Government offices; the 6
statue in the foreground is one of General Gordon.