Chapter V: Front Matter (5)
The following morning the Prince received and replied to an address on the local pier which juts out into the beautiful Macquarie lake. Here, waving over his head, was a Canadian flag, presented to this Australian namesake by the capital city of Ontario. From Toronto the Prince was taken by train past a number of the pit-heads of one of the richest mining districts in Australia, at that time supplying coal at the very reasonable price of seventeen shillings per ton f.o.b. on the seaboard. Every heap of slack and every railway truck, as the Prince's train went by, had upon it a contingent of miners who cheered in a way to warm the coldest heart.
Newcastle, the second city of New South Wales, was reached at noon. The Prince, on alighting, was received by the Mayor and Corporation, supported by a smart guard-of-honour of naval cadets and an immense crowd of spectators. He crossed the harbour by launch and landed on the low marshy foreshore of Walsh Island. Here he shook hands with a long line of returned men, employed in the shipbuilding yards, who gave him a most cordial reception. Similar scenes were repeated, at least half a dozen times in the course of the day, at the entrance to each set of works. At Walsh Island, over which he was conducted by Mr. Estell, State Minister of Works, and Mr. Cutler, General Manager, New South Wales Shipbuilding, he launched a fine six-thousand-ton freight steamer, built by state enterprise on behalf of the Commonwealth Government. The launching was to have taken place at flood tide, but, owing to postponement of the Prince's visit, had to be done at the ebb. A strong west wind on the ship's quarter added to the difficulty of the undertaking which was entirely overcome, the ship taking the water beautifully.
These vessels are an interesting example of state enterprise in New South Wales. They are designed to carry produce away from Australia, and to bring British emigrants back. There was at the time plenty of demand for their services, as thousands of would-be settlers were awaiting passages in the old country, and wheat was rotting in Australian granaries that was badly wanted to reduce prices of bread in Europe. The claim was made for them that they were being built at rates materially lower than those offering for the construction of similar vessels in any dockyard in the world at the time the contracts were given out. The cost, I was told, ranged from L31 per ton until the last rise in wages took place, which brought the rate up to about L35. At the time of the Prince's visit no workman employed in the yard was receiving less than fourteen shillings and fourpence daily, the average being very much higher than this figure. The vessel launched was the fifth of six uniform steamers under state construction. The four previously completed had been rated "A1" at Lloyds.
After leaving the Government dockyard, the Prince was taken over works of private enterprise of even larger significance, the steel-furnaces, rolling-mills and rod-mills of the Broken Hill Proprietary Company, which are also located in Newcastle. Here he was conducted by Mr. Delprat, general manager, and Mr. Baker, local manager, and saw the whole of the processes, from the emptying of three open-hearth blast furnaces, to the conversion of glowing molten steel into 72-lb. railway rails, of which these works claim to have manufactured, last year, some hundred and sixty thousand tons. The capacity of the works is very much larger even than this amount, two separate strikes having reduced out-turn in this period. The price paid for these rails by the various state railways in Australia, which now depend almost entirely upon this source of supply, was thirteen pounds per ton. I learnt also that the average pay of the labour employed in the works was about one pound sterling daily per man. The profit upon the L4,000,000 capital of the concern is such that its one-pound shares were quoted in the Sydney Stock Exchange the day the Prince went over the works at sixty-four shillings apiece.
After seeing the steel-works, the Prince was conducted by Mr. MacDougall over a neighbouring wire and nail factory, which claims to be now filling the entire demand of Australia for plain-wire fencing. The firm was preparing to set up additional machinery upon a large scale to make barbed wire which Australia has hitherto bought in Europe. The significance of this development is considerable, since barbed wire forms the top, as smooth wire does the lower strands, of fences of which hundreds of thousands of miles are already in existence in Australia, and millions of miles more have still to be built.
After leaving the wire-works, the Prince drove in procession, through decorated, crowded, cheering streets, to a sheltered park overlooking the Pacific, where thirty thousand people had assembled and Mayor Gibson read a civic address. In the course of his reply the Prince dwelt upon the remarkable industrial development of Newcastle. "Your harbour," he noted, "your shipping facilities and your manufactures have greatly enhanced the importance this district has possessed from the earliest date on account of its rich deposits of coal."
Leaving Newcastle in the afternoon by train, the Prince returned to Sydney through a pleasant land of tidy orange plantations and ragged blue-gum bush. On the way he held a reception in the city of Gosford, and saw further reaches of the beautiful Hawkesbury river. A record crowd cheered him at Sydney railway station, and along the route to the harbour where he rejoined the _Renown_.
XV
WESTERN AUSTRALIA
The Prince went from Sydney two thousand miles by sea to Western Australia, a state as large as the combined areas of England, France, Germany, Austria, Spain, and Holland, with a population of less than half a million people to develop this stupendous territory.
On the way, in traversing the Australian Bight, that borders the southern coast of the continent, the _Renown_ encountered weather remarkably bad even for this region of frequent gales. Green seas swept over forecastle and quarter-deck alike. The engines were slowed down. The big ship strained, clanked, and groaned, but proved her seaworthiness magnificently. The waves were still high in King George's Sound outside Albany, where owing to shallow water the _Renown_ had to lie four miles from land in a wide and but partially sheltered bay. Where the shore could be seen it lay in rocky grass-grown hummocks, on which the surf beat heavily. A picket boat conveyed the Prince and his staff through a narrow entrance into the small landlocked harbour, where they landed on a desolate pier, wet decorations flapping dismally in cold wind and spray. The entire population had turned out, however, despite the weather. The Governor of Western Australia, Sir Francis Newdegate, the State Premier, Mr. Mitchell, and a number of other members of the Government awaited the Prince upon the pier. The Mayor of Albany read an address from a wind-swept platform in front of a town hall prominently situated on a low hill facing a wide street that led down to the harbour. The crowd here was a varied one. It included traders, merchants, commission-agents, and manufacturers belonging to Albany itself, also large numbers of fruit-growers and farmers from stations in the interior of this prosperous land of orchards and wheatfields. Gatherings of returned soldiers and school children, also nurses and other war-workers flanked the general assemblage. A night train journey followed through rolling country and bush, with arable fields, apple orchards and orange gardens which looked most attractive next morning in brilliant sunshine in the freshest of rain-washed air.
The Prince was cheered by gatherings at many wayside stations, including Parkerville, where a number of children, in charge of gentle-faced sisters in black robes, sang patriotic songs in the chill morning air as the train went through. About noon he alighted at Perth, capital of Western Australia, an extraordinarily beautiful city, with wide streets and solid masonry houses, situated on the low banks of the picturesque Swan River--here so wide as to be almost a lagoon.
The streets were decorated and lined with cheerful people. Those who received the Prince included the Governor, the State Premier, the Mayor, Mr. Lathlain, the Chief Justice, Sir R. MacMillan, the leader of the State Opposition, Mr. P. Collier, the Chairman of the Reception Committee, General Sir Talbot Hobbs, also most of the other members of the local houses of Parliament and of the Perth municipal corporation. The Prince went through the usual inspection of naval and military guards-of-honour, and then proceeded by motor-car through the city, which looked delightfully fresh in bright winter sunshine. The crowd was lined up behind wooden barriers on either side of a lane kept by blue-jackets from H.M.A.S. _Sydney_, also men of the Royal Australian Naval Reserve, and returned soldiers, cadets and scouts. The route taken was some two miles in length. It lay through the principal business and residential streets, the crowd extending the entire distance, clapping, cheering, laughing and flag-waving as the Prince went by. The procession disappeared inside the shady grounds of Government House, a place of green lawns and rose-bushes blossoming in the shade of banana-trees and Insignis pines.
Later on H.R.H. visited the principal theatre, where he addressed several thousand returned sailors, soldiers and nurses. He congratulated them on their services, alike during the war and since their return home, where they had shown that they stood for the maintenance of law and order. From the theatre the Prince went on to a big civic luncheon in the Town Hall, where Mayor Lathlain told an appreciative audience of their guest's keen personal interest in the welfare of the people of the Dominions. He also mentioned the fact that the Prince had come as representing "the dear old Motherland, the heart of the Empire, the land upon whose Navy so largely depends Australia's ability to carry on her peaceful avocations." H.R.H. was loudly cheered when he rose to reply, and his pleasant little speech evoked the greatest enthusiasm. He felicitated Perth and Western Australia generally upon their wonderful progress, of which much had been achieved within the memory of the present generation. He said he knew Western Australia's record in the Great War, and desired also to congratulate its women--alike those who had gone abroad and those who had worked at home. An investiture at Government House and a State ball completed the day's work.
The visit to Perth lasted about a week. It had several memorable features, among them a review, when, in a wide thoroughfare bordered by pleasant residences bearing such British names as Ilfracombe, Warwick House, and St. George's Terrace, the Prince stood, framed in a background of crowded grandstands, taking the salutes of a number of thousands of Australians, including a solid contingent of blue-jackets, a yet larger one of returned soldiers, some in khaki, some in mufti, cohorts of cadets and boy scouts, both naval and military, phalanxes of red cross nurses in smart white dresses, and girl guides in a dense column of blue, followed by what seemed an endless procession of children, every school within ten miles of Perth being represented.
From the review the Prince went to Mayor Lathlain's "people's garden-party" in the National Park. Here upon a dais beneath a statue of his great grandmother, Queen Victoria, in the shelter of big timber-trees, commanding a magnificent view of the city and the river, he stood for an hour while the people of Perth streamed past in column. Babies were carried pick-a-back on their fathers' shoulders, men doffed hats, mothers and daughters waved hands, handkerchiefs or flags, as they passed. One old lady delayed the line to shake hands with him, but accepted the Admiral's clasp as a makeshift, the Prince being too busy taking off his hat and returning eight smiles at a time to have a hand to spare. Everybody was so engrossed gazing at the visitor, every head turning on its neck for a long backward glance after the dais had been passed, that hardly an eye was drawn off when a noisy aeroplane, which had been stunting unnoticed in the Prince's honour overhead, suddenly swooped out of intolerable oblivion to within a hundred feet of him.
A further notable function was the State banquet at Perth Government House. Here were present all the leaders of thought and enterprise in Western Australia, politicians, administrators, squatters, settlers, traders, naval and military commanders, ministers, judges, ten V.C.'s, and everybody else who counted. Grace was said by that soldierly episcopal, Archbishop Riley, who, as a Chaplain-in-Chief of the Australian forces in the field, is known and loved from one end of Australia to the other. The Prince's health was proposed by Premier Mitchell. After it had been drunk with the usual cheering and waving of napkins, H.R.H. made a speech. "Your policy," he said, "is to draw settlers from the old country, at the same time ensuring that they shall not suffer from lack of experience when they are first put upon the land of their adopted country. I am delighted to hear that you are giving to Imperial ex-service men the same chance of starting life upon the land when they arrive in this state, as you give your own diggers. I can think of no more admirable way than this of continuing the splendid traditions of the war and maintaining our united British spirit." It was a note which has often been sounded since to appreciation and applause throughout the Empire.
One of the expeditions made from the state capital was by launch down the wide placid reaches of the Swan River, still the haunt of the black swan, emblem of Western Australia, to hold a reception at the port of Fremantle, some ten miles distant, where the river joins the sea. No black swans graced the occasion, only an occasional porpoise leapt alongside the launch as it entered the estuary. The entire population of the countryside lined the banks as the vessel went past, every village, settlement, and factory _en route_ contributing its quota, which in the case of saw-mills, cold-storage plant and electricity works, consisted almost entirely of workmen.
Arrived at Fremantle the entire city was found awaiting the Prince, crowding the pier and lined up along the streets. Naval and military guards-of-honour, with bands, saluted. The chairman and members of the Harbour Trust and the Mayor and members of the city council stood bare-headed as he made his landing. From the pier he was conducted in procession, first to a picturesque display by thousands of children, and afterwards to the big "Anzac" military hospital where convalescent patients were drawn up with doctors and nurses outside, and where the warmth of the cheers that came from the wards, where he went round the beds of those too ill to move, was more than touching.
Speaking later at a civic luncheon, the Prince looked forward to Fremantle's eventually becoming one of the leading harbours in the Empire, the importance of its position as the first port of call on the western seaboard being emphasized by the completion of the trans-continental railway. Returning to Perth later in the afternoon by motor-car, he was taken through the magnificent National Park, a well-kept forest upland, full of fine timber, including a whole avenue, each individual tree dedicated to some West Australian soldier fallen in the war. Just before entering this park, the Prince passed some thousands of children drawn from schools in the Cottesloe, Claremont and Subiaco municipal areas, who stood hardily in the rain in the open to wave their flags and sing their patriotic songs.
Still another rewarding expedition was by car to some of the fruit gardens near Perth. Orange groves in the dips and apple orchards on the rising slopes made odd neighbours. The apple-trees were bare, but oranges hung in the golden profusion of Malta or Seville. Fifty acres of this fruit in some cases meant a clear income of over a thousand pounds per annum to the fortunate owner after paying for all labour other than his own. The orchard zone was near the coast. Further inland is one of the wide wheat-belts which feed Australia and furnish a surplus for Great Britain. Beyond this again begin the cattle-stations of the Great North-West. Perth was buzzing with the Great North-West. A commission composed of parliamentarians and publicists had just returned, loaded with information and optimism, from a two-thousand mile expedition through it by motor. In addition the highways were blocked and the views were obscured by mountainous men, full of deep cocktails and deliberate conversation, who had descended from this region for the occasion of the Prince's visit. Some of these genial giants worked, as private pasture, areas ranging to over two million acres. They seemed in themselves a sufficient indication of what the country could produce, and an adequate reason for railway enterprise in their direction. In this state land nationalizes may note the character of the movement towards small holdings. It has recently been laid down that no peasant or other proprietor shall obtain a fresh grant of more than one million acres. Not a long step toward communistic property, but possibly a beginning.
XVI
WHEAT, GOLD, AND LOGGING
The state saw-mills and logging-camps of Pemberton, about a hundred miles southward along the coast, made an important fixture from Perth. On this occasion the Prince was accompanied by the Premier and other members of the West Australian State Government and was conducted by Mr. Humphries, state saw-mills manager. He was taken over mills where the enduring Karri trees in trunks sixty feet long and seven feet through were being sliced by revolving saws into uniform railway sleepers for export. He also made his way, in heavy rain, partly by railway and partly on foot, up gorges of great natural beauty in the heart of a dripping forest, himself took a hand with sinewy axe-men and sturdy sawyers, in the felling of these giant trees, and saw their subsequent extraction from swampy thickets by teams each comprising, in some cases, twenty-four splendid locally bred Clydesdale horses, in others a score and a half of equally fine Australian bullocks.
In the presence of a gathering of the entire logging force and their wives and children, who gave him the most cordial reception, the Prince afterwards presided at a local log-chopping contest in which champion woodmen from all parts of Western Australia competed. The excitement of the forest community of onlookers was intense, and considerable sums changed hands upon the result. The men were given trunks of as nearly as possible equal thickness and hardness to hew through. The less proficient received a certain number of seconds' start. Axes fell with marvellous rapidity and precision, slices rather than chips flew incredible distances in pre-ordained directions--it was a remarkable exhibition of muscle rivalling machinery. One of the long-handicap men eventually won from the scratch competitor, a magnificent young giant who was about a second behind. The logs cut through were about fifteen inches in diameter. Most of the axes used bore the names of American manufacturers, and had edges still razor-like after the contest was over.
A fine exhibition of table-vegetables, grown in pockets in the neighbouring hills, was also shown to the Prince. Rich land close to the railway suitable for market-gardening and already cleared is to be had in this region, it seems, at L25 per acre. It is claimed to produce per acre from six to nine tons of potatoes, which were fetching on the spot L12 per ton. The principal prize-winner was a Scotch gardener, who told the Prince he had come but six years previously without any capital whatever, and that his holding was now clear of debt and valued at L1,300.
On the way back to Perth the Prince had his first and only experience during the tour of a railway accident. Speaking of it in a reply to the toast of his health at a public dinner at Perth, a few days after it occurred, Premier Mitchell expressed thankfulness that the Prince had escaped unhurt. His Royal Highness in reply treated the matter from a humorous point of view. He did not regret, he said, to have been able to add a harmless railway accident to his Australian experiences. The mishap was very much nearer to being a disastrous one, however, than this would suggest. It occurred on a single-track, three-foot-six-inch line, in swampy Westralian forest, some ten miles from the township of Bridgetown. The Royal train was a heavy one, consisting of some nine corridor sleeping coaches. It had passed over the spot, which was on a curve, the same morning on the way to Pemberton. Heavy rain fell in the course of the day, and on the return journey at about three o'clock in the afternoon, the track had become so soft that the rails gave way.
The train was, fortunately, only going at about fifteen miles an hour at the time, having had to slow down owing to cattle on the lines. The rear saloon, which was occupied by H.R.H. and Admiral Halsey, seems to have been the first to leave the line. The saloon immediately in front, which contained the remainder of the Royal staff and most of the state party, afterwards followed it. The derailed wheels then bumped along over the sleepers, which they cut up in the most complete manner, the line for two hundred and thirty yards being converted into a tangled mass of twisted rails and broken splinters. The engine-driver felt the jolting and applied the brakes. This happily took the way off the train, for a moment later the two derailed vehicles rolled over the soft embankment, here a couple of feet high, and lay on the ground below, all their wheels in the air. The train came to a standstill, the coupling between the wrecked and the unwrecked portions remaining intact. The Prince and his staff were still inside. Heads quickly appeared through windows now pointing to the sky, and the occupants of the front saloons, who had hastily jumped out, learnt to their relief that nobody had been seriously hurt. One after another the members of the Royal party, including the Premier and other state ministers, were extricated through the windows, now the only means of egress.
While this was happening smoke began to issue from the first of the two overturned saloons. Investigation showed that this was from the cooks' galley, which, in falling, had set the saloon on fire. The flames were promptly extinguished with water brought from the portion of the train still upon the rails. Ten minutes later the Prince, who had declined to move till he had collected his overturned papers, cheerfully climbed out, being thus, sailor-like, the last to leave the wreck. He had been talking to Admiral Halsey when the derailment took place, and was pinned between overturned pieces of furniture when the coach rolled over, thus escaping falling through the plate-glass window, a thing which occurred to several members of the party, including the Premier. The only person at all materially hurt, however, was Surgeon-Commander Newport, the Prince's doctor, who cut his shin rather badly when he went through the window, an incredibly small casualty list for the nature of the accident.
All the fittings that were movable flew through the air when the upset took place. A large mirror in the Prince's compartment was amongst the articles which crashed to the ground. The mix-up and disorder of broken furniture, crockery and luggage inside was most complete.
The Prince himself, at the time as later, made nothing of the matter. He caught up a cocktail-mixer as he climbed through his overturned dining saloon, and waved it out of the window by which he extricated himself. He congratulated the Chief of the Staff, with mock seriousness, at having at last arranged something for him that was not on the official programme. He laughed away the anxious expressions of regret of the railway and other state officials responsible in the affair, and did his utmost to convey the impression that the overturning of the Royal train was an occurrence so trifling as to be hardly worth mentioning.
The party were soon transferred to the front portion of the train which was still upon the rails. The wreckage was cut loose, and the journey was continued to Bridgetown, the next halting place on the programme. Here the Prince carried through, in the most undisturbed manner, the whole of the prearranged ceremonial of inspecting guards-of-honour, shaking hands with returned soldiers, greeting relations of the fallen, receiving war-workers, reviewing assemblies of children, and replying to a municipal address. He made no mention of the railway accident in his speech, but excused himself for having arrived late, as if this had been due to a fault of his own.
It was not possible, however, to prevent the circulation of news of the occurrence, and it made a sensation throughout Australia. Telegrams of congratulation at his escape poured in from every state and principal town. Thanksgiving services were held in the leading churches, and everywhere it was recognized that what might have been a disaster had been very narrowly avoided, and that the Prince had shown much spirit in a situation of no little danger. His return to Perth was a triumphal procession. Every wayside station was crowded with cheering people as the train ran through. Perth received him with open arms. A bigger assemblage than ever welcomed him as he drove from the railway station to Government House, and the crowd plainly showed its impression that he had taken a bit of rough luck in the best Australian manner.
Finally departing from Perth, a few days later, the Prince was sped on his way by large cheering crowds which not only lined the streets as he drove to the railway station, but every wayside platform as well. The route soon left the plain by the seashore and entered foothills clothed with shady _jarrah_ forest. Thence it mounted to the spacious uplands of the green rolling wheat-zone, where the young crop carpeted the expanse for a hundred miles along the way.
West Australia raises some twelve million bushels of wheat annually, of which nine millions are exported. It is estimated that the out-turn could be increased to forty million bushels if more population were available, as thirty-four million acres have been reported suitable for wheat growing in this state, and eleven bushels per acre are looked upon as an average yield. A thousand acres, which can be secured on very easy terms, is an average holding. Such a farm worked by one man would ordinarily have three hundred acres under wheat, and would also support two hundred and fifty sheep. Many properties of this kind are in the hands of owners who began without either capital or education, yet have paid off all mortgages and are living in very substantial comfort. The children start under infinitely more favourable circumstances than their parents, for not only are savings usually available to establish them in business on their own account, but they have the advantage of an excellent system of state-aided education which provides a school wherever a minimum of ten children can be brought together. Public help is also given to pay for qualified resident teachers in localities too isolated to enable the minimum school to be assembled. A mileage allowance is paid by the State for children who have to travel any considerable distance to school. Education department correspondence courses are also conducted with surprisingly satisfactory results for the benefit of youngsters on farms out of reach of any of the other aids to learning. It is not only the children who benefit. Their parents often learn much themselves in endeavouring to help their families to assimilate the lessons that the correspondence teacher at a distance is sending by post to the schoolroom under the hayrick or by the evening fire.
An hour after leaving Perth the track picked up the Kalgoorlie water main, which thereafter ran beside the rails, a half-buried steel conduit thirty inches thick, all the way to the goldfields. This water main is one of the most wonderful in the world. It daily delivers at the mines five million gallons of pure water, after conveying it 350 miles from the Mundaring Reservoir. This reservoir has a masonry weir a hundred feet high, which has been built right across a river-valley, thereby impounding the water and forming a lake seven miles long, holding four seasons' supply. The difficulty of building the works was much increased by the height up which the water has to be forced in the course of its journey. In all, the pipe-line climbs 1,290 feet between Mundaring Reservoir and Bulla Bulling, the highest point upon the circuit, a lift which requires some of the most powerful pumps in the world to negotiate. The installation is essential for the people of Kalgoorlie, whose city is in the midst of the desert, with no other source of supply fit for human consumption, as the water that accumulates in the mine workings is definitely brackish, though cattle will drink it in some cases.
Fine rain shaded off into showers as the train proceeded eastward. Further on grey skies were replaced by brilliant sunshine. The country grew continually drier; wheatfields changed into scraggy forest. The forest thinned out and was succeeded by vast expanses of nondescript scrub and desolate bluish salt bush, through which the train sped throughout the night. When the Prince awoke the following morning he was in desert country. Coolgardie, his first stepping-off place, proved to be a dying city. Its original sixteen thousand inhabitants are now represented by only a few hundreds. The majority have moved to the still active mines of Kalgoorlie. Many lie in France, for no community enlisted more freely or fought more bravely than did the men of this far-off town. All that were left had turned out to meet the Prince. It was a curious assemblage, largely consisting of men past work and women and children, who still cling to wooden shanties fast falling into decay, amidst spoil heaps and ruins of fine public buildings, a great place once but a sad spectacle now. The big water main enters Coolgardie, and is sparingly tapped there, but its contents are too precious to be used for irrigation by the way, and without water for this purpose it was impossible for Coolgardie to follow the example of Ballarat in turning its miners into cultivators when the gold gave out. The shy buzzard of the desert now perches fearlessly where once was heavy traffic. The wild dingo has come in from the plains, and makes its home in what were once busy crushing mills and palatial business houses. Soon sand will cover what remains, and the salt bush will be supreme as aforetime.
Kalgoorlie, where the Prince next alighted, proved to be a very different place. Here twenty-four thousand people were living in prosperity, and are likely to continue in this position so long as their reef goes on yielding its harvest of yellow ore. The visitor was welcomed by a big crowd, including a large body of returned soldiers, of whom two wore the Victoria Cross. He was given a cheerful luncheon by the Chamber of Mines, at which the large company present were waited on by daughters of the principal residents, who prepared, cooked and served a banquet which could not have been surpassed anywhere. In the course of his reply to a civic address later on, "I am looking forward," the Prince said, "to my stay in this wonderful goldbearing area. I have heard with admiration of the pioneering pluck and engineering skill which have enabled this great city to be built and provided with all the necessary services of a large population in country where water is so scarce. I particularly prize the opportunity of making acquaintance with the people who have placed this miracle of development to the credit of British industry and enterprise. I am also much interested in the terminus of the great Trans-Australian Railway which links you with the eastern States of the Commonwealth."
Before leaving Kalgoorlie the Prince visited workings on the forty-foot thick reef of the "golden mile" which is being gradually nibbled away. This reef, since its discovery a quarter of a century ago, has produced seventy-four million sterling of gold. The profit of working it has not kept pace with the increased cost of labour and machinery, but continues to be appreciable, and large masses of paying quartz are still in sight.
XVII
THE NULLARBOR PLAIN
At Kalgoorlie the Prince left the simply equipped three-feet-six-inch gauge of the West Australian State Railway, and continued his journey, at forty miles an hour, on a luxuriously fitted and smooth-running train on the standard gauge of the Trans-Australian line.
In charge of the train was Mr. Norris Bell, the eminent engineer who controlled the construction of the line, and is now running it in such a way that, despite almost total absence of local traffic, it is nearly paying its working expenses, a remarkable achievement considering the desolate nature of the country through which it passes. The railway connects the populous States of Victoria, New South Wales and South Australia, with the vast and potentially rich, but presently undeveloped, western territories. It is one of those imaginative national enterprises undertaken by young countries, and is bound to be justified by the generous policy of land development which usually accompanies, though at present it draws its dividends from the future.
The Nullarbor plain through which it passes is so devoid of rain that it not only possesses no streams, but its level expanse is unscarred by even a dry water-course. It is almost absolutely flat for several hundreds of miles, after which it undulates slightly, the folds being in some cases occupied by lakes or tanks, most of which are so salt that they are useless for either drinking or irrigation. Their banks form desolate patches of gleaming white on the horizon, owing to the crystallization of masses of salt upon them. In places where fresh water is obtainable, it has usually to be pumped up from some depth below ground. Wells are so far between that the train has to carry tanks large enough to water the engine for two hundred miles without replenishment.
The portion of the plain in which the Prince found himself, the morning after leaving Kalgoorlie, was of red earth thickly sprinkled with white stones of irregular shape, shaded by bunchy grey salt-bushes the size of cabbages. These salt-bushes, dry and dusty as they appear, afford quite good fodder for sheep. The plain, therefore, almost entirely rainless as it is, only requires the provision of drinking-water to enable it to be put to profitable use. Sheep-stations already exist upon it, wherever it has been found possible to tap subsoil water sweet enough for the sheep to drink, and with growing knowledge of this remarkable region, and improved methods of purifying saline springs, it is hoped gradually to convert much of what is now unproductive into sheep-raising areas.
As the train rushed onward through the day, the stones became smaller and eventually disappeared, and the salt-bushes grew gradually larger. One lost the impression of moving through an interminable cabbage patch, and felt as on a ship. The salt-bushes rippled over a calm expanse of ocean extending on all sides to a far horizon.
In the afternoon a halt was made and the Prince alighted and paid a visit to a rude encampment of aborigines, who had travelled a hundred miles on foot to meet him. They performed a number of weird ceremonial dances before him, and gave an exhibition of their skill in the throwing of boomerangs and spears. The performers were almost completely naked men and boys, painted all over with red and other brilliant patches on a whitish ground, whose only garment was a scanty rag of dirty cotton cloth that could hardly be said even to encompass the waist. The dances were slow, the performers sometimes stealing in single file round a circle, sometimes springing as if to the attack, the while incantations were chanted by miserable bundles of savage humanity, feminine as well as masculine, who squatted upon the ground. The boomerang-throwing was a much more lively affair. The air hummed with sharp wooden blades the size and weight of reaping-hooks. About a dozen performers operated simultaneously and each threw quite a number of these blades in quick succession to immense heights, where they hovered like hawks, eventually to descend with uncanny speed in a series of crooked swirls and side-long rushes. The circles described were such that quite a wide area was swept by flying blades each of which travelled on a complicated orbit of its own, of extraordinary speed, the sharp edge continually leading. It was explained that these boomerangs were of the hunting type, and were used in practice chiefly against flights of duck, the birds taking them for hawks and keeping low and thus within range when they were in the air. The spear-throwing was also interesting. The spears consisted of straight wooden shafts, like slim but heavy bean-sticks, with a tapering charred point sharpened to acuteness, and tail winged with a thin wooden slip the size of a biggish paper-knife. These spears were thrown with marvellous force and precision, with an action like that of overhand bowling, a sack stuffed with salt-bush branches and crudely painted to represent a human face, being transfixed again and again, in the centre, at sixty yards. These wretched people appear to be rapidly dying out despite liberal grants from the Commonwealth and State Governments to educate and feed them. In the south they seem to be entirely incapable of learning even how to cook or wash or build themselves shelters. In the north they are less degraded and find employment on cattle-stations where some of them make excellent stock-drivers, learning to ride well and handle animals.
The camp visited by the Prince was typical of the lowest amongst them. It was being looked after by a cultivated Australian lady who was devoting herself to the services of these poor creatures, who seemed to be entirely dependent upon her, so incapable were they of fending for themselves in any practical manner beyond that of adding to the larder by the killing of a limited number of small animals. When left to themselves, we were told, they seldom had more than twenty-four hours' food supply within sight. Their intelligence does not even extend to the keeping of provisions when supplied with them in any quantity beyond what they can devour upon the spot.
Another picturesque incident occurred about sunset, when the train stopped at an artesian boring to take in a fresh supply of water. Here some twenty well-conditioned camels were grazing upon the salt-bushes, in charge of two intelligent natives of Rawalpindi, India. These turbaned Punjabis, who spoke Hindustani with a distinct Australian accent, so long had they been in the country, were marching the camels overland to Western Australia, where they hoped to sell them at a good price for transport work in the bush. The men had evidently prospered. They said they had found Australia a good country, though they looked forward to retiring eventually to their own land. Several Eurasian children were with them. It was a reminder of those racial problems of which the people of Australia take constant thought when they determine to develop the natural resources of their wonderful land, as far as may be, by white labour alone. It is no disparagement of the Oriental to say that he is at his best when he is entirely of the East, just as the white man is at his best when he mates with those of his own country and race, a point upon which Australia, at all events, is thoroughly convinced.
XVIII
SOUTH AUSTRALIA
The Prince alighted at sundown at the shipping centre Port Augusta, at the head of Spencer gulf, and was welcomed to South Australia by Mr. Barwell, State Premier, and other members of the Cabinet. A civic reception was held, and the party changed over from the standard gauge train of the Trans-Australian Railway, into a train on the narrow gauge of South Australia, which was standing in the station profusely decorated for the occasion. A start was then made on the two hundred and sixty miles that lay between that point and Adelaide, throughout the whole of which distance, we afterwards learnt, a guard had been placed on every bridge and culvert. The people of South Australia were in no mind that the Prince should run the risk of further accident.
Civic receptions, at which numbers of returned men and other war workers were drawn up, and all the inhabitants turned out, were given at various places _en route_, including Quorn, Peterborough, Terowie, and Gawler. The first part of the way was over the picturesque Pichirichi pass, thirteen hundred feet above sea level. After descending on the other side the narrow gauge gave place to the broad five-feet-three-inch track, which connects Adelaide with Melbourne. Sir Archibald Weigall, Governor of South Australia, soon afterwards joined the train. The latter part of the route was through flat and extraordinarily fertile farming country.
Adelaide was reached about noon. Here a large proportion of the inhabitants of the province had assembled to welcome the Prince. A procession was formed at the railway station, where guards-of-honour were drawn up. The Prince shared a motor with Sir Archibald Weigall. Mr. Barwell and other members of the South Australian Government occupied cars behind. A well-mounted escort of light horse, in khaki, jingled on either side. The entire route, some three miles in length through the principal streets, had been elaborately decorated, and was lined ten deep the whole way with cheerful crowds. Entering the spacious and solidly built King George's Street, where magnificent bodies of Flying Corps, Engineers, Naval Reserve, and other returned men kept the barricades, the Prince was greeted by numbers of lady war-workers, in fresh white uniforms, who had public-spiritedly reopened, for the benefit of the blue-jackets and marines on the various visiting war-vessels, the "Cheer-up club" which did such good service during the war. Cadets, red cross workers, and masses of medalled returned men lined the space opposite the town hall, where Mayor Moulder read a civic address, to which the Prince replied, describing his now nearly half-completed travels in the Commonwealth as a most memorable experience, a statement heartily endorsed by all who shared them. From the town hall the procession went on to the working-men's quarter, where the reception was as enthusiastic as anywhere. It was also noticeable that although only school-children, of whom there were incredible numbers, lined the route for at least half a mile in this part of the city, order was as well kept as in thoroughfares elsewhere, where regulars or volunteers were lined up.
Outside the big market in Rendal Street, beneath a wide arch built on one side with vegetables, and on the other with apples and oranges, a pretty function occurred, a little girl, daughter of the oldest gardener doing business with the market, presenting the Prince with a bouquet, and a small boy, the son of the oldest packer, with a basket of fruit, offerings that symbolized pleasantly enough the very considerable business done in South Australia in garden produce.
Further on, in North Terrace, a more touching spectacle was presented where hundreds of beds from the hospitals, each with a nurse in attendance, lined the route, and the Prince paused for a word of greeting with the patients. Medical students, apprentices, and yet more cadets, were lined up near the fine stone buildings of the Art Gallery, the University and the Exhibition, which are here grouped together. The procession ultimately entered and ended in the quiet gardens of Government House, where H.R.H. was to spend the week of his visit.
Amongst functions which took place at Adelaide during the next few days, was a state dinner at the leading hotel, at which three hundred sat down, including everybody of importance in the South Australian Government. Mr. Barwell proposed, and Mr. Gunn, spokesman of the Labour Party, and Leader of the Opposition in the State Legislature, seconded the toast of the Prince's health. The Prince replied and the proceedings throughout were of the usual cordial nature. A climax was reached after the dinner was over, and it was time for the Royal guest to get home to bed. It was then discovered that the streets outside were so solidly packed with people that it was quite impossible either for the motor-cars to reach the door or for the party to walk to where they were posted. The Prince was brought back into the building, whence he addressed the crowd, at first from an upper window, and afterwards from a roof on which he climbed so as to be nearer the throng. In the end, a way out was found through a side street, by a door much affected by bridal couples.
In the course of his speech at this dinner, the Prince referred sympathetically to the recent death of Premier Peake. He went on to express appreciation of the welcome given him by Adelaide, "the garden city of the Commonwealth," and dwelt upon the fine war-services of South Australia, and the magnificent opportunities which this State offers for development. He also mentioned the extent to which the future of Australia, as a whole, depends upon a broad far-seeing railway policy, a railway policy in fact "that is continental in scope." Continuing he expressed regret at having been compelled to omit his originally proposed overland journey from South Australia to Queensland, and announced that, to make this up, it had now been decided, in consultation with the Queensland Government, to substitute at least one week in the back-blocks or interior of Australia, for the proposed visit to the new mandated territory at Rabaul. "I am very sorry," the Prince added, "to have had to cut out Rabaul, but as I had to choose between the two I am delighted to think I shall now be able to spend some days in seeing bush and station life for myself in the real heart of Australia." This decision met with general approval. Rabaul stands for the mandated territory of tropical New Guinea, formerly in German possession, and now allocated to the Commonwealth. It is a territory bigger than England and Wales but only sparsely inhabited, partially developed, and with no specially outstanding features. No interest it offers could compare with that of Australia itself.
The next few days were busy ones, public functions succeeding one another almost continuously, and acres of close-packed crowds assembling wherever it was announced that the Prince was to be present. On one occasion he unveiled a fine bronze statue of the late King Edward. On another he conversed with an assemblage of blinded soldiers. One of the most picturesque of his experiences was when four thousand women war-workers, including nurses, members of Cheer-up clubs, motor-ambulance drivers, comforts workers, and members of the Mothers' League marched past him in solid battalions, many of them bearing stripes indicative of five years' public service, and some the badge which stood for son or husband killed at the front. The scene of enthusiasm will long be remembered when he told them he hoped that they, like the diggers, would all look upon him as a comrade. It was a thing he said often but never too often.
The Prince also made expeditions into the surrounding country, which has a climate like that of Italy, the vineyards climbing the terraced hills around Adelaide enhancing the resemblance. He here made the acquaintance of the Australian wine industry, which continues to prosper and expand, despite the new and devastating form of drought that threatens it throughout the world. The difficulties of the trade are considerable. The Australian is not himself a wine-bibber. His intoxicant is whisky and his stimulant is tea. Withal he is a very temperate person. No great home market, therefore, is at hand for the native wines, and in spite of an excellence in many brands which must in the long run establish them, the European importer still shows only a modified confidence in stocking them to the displacement of the better known labels of Southern Europe. Six million gallons annually, however, are being drunk somewhere.
On the day of the Prince's departure from Adelaide, eight thousand state school-children and forty-five thousand spectators said good-bye to him in brilliant sunshine, on the Adelaide cricket-ground. From the cricket-ground he proceeded to the University, where the degree of D.C.L. was conferred upon him. Thence through large crowds, which had waited hours for his passing, and greeted him when he appeared with friendly shouts of "Good-bye, Digger," he went to the railway station, and proceeded by train to Port Adelaide. Here a local civic address was presented, and yet another large gathering of children, returned men and war-workers cheered him. The Royal train eventually went on, down the Port Adelaide main street, which was black with people, to the outer harbour wharves, where Sir Archibald Weigall, Mr. Barwell, Mr. Moulden, and other leading men of South Australia went on the _Renown_ and said good-bye, the Prince ultimately sailing for Tasmania.
XIX
TASMANIA
The Prince's reception at Hobart, Tasmania, was a great popular occasion. Decorations had been kept up and renewed since the preceding month, when the visit was originally to have taken place, and were still imposing, while the crowds along the processional route, which was several miles in length, were enormous.
The Governor, Sir William Allardice, paid a ceremonial visit to the Prince immediately the _Renown_ anchored off Ocean Pier. On landing the Prince was received by Sir Walter Lee, State Premier, Major-General Sir John Jellibrand, and members of the Tasmanian Government. On the pier he inspected guards-of-honour of seamen and cadets, and shook hands with five of Tasmania's eleven V.C.'s, including Sergeant McDougall, who had been an inmate of a pulmonary hospital when war broke out, yet managed to get to the front and came back with the most coveted distinction in the army.
From the pier the Prince was taken to one of the big dockyard sheds, which he found filled with returned men, nurses and other war-workers, including the venerable Mrs. Roberts, a well-known local figure, who stood, a bent old lady in black, waving the Union Jack beside the commandant. Many were the Mrs. Robertses, under different names, that these ceremonial occasions produced. One learned to look for them, figures full of years and honour, spirits erect in failing bodies, dim eyes lit by the old torch, frail arms carrying on the old tradition. Homage to Mrs. Roberts, war-worker, be her style married or single. She is a symbol of the race.
In this place the Prince was cheered in the lustiest manner, and was presented with an illuminated copy of the Tasmanian muster-roll, also with the gold badge of the twelfth battalion. Thereafter he was taken in procession through the streets, where the crowd was so dense and anxious to get near to him, that the pace had to be of the slowest. Nothing could exceed the good nature of those who were pressing in upon the route, however, which was well kept after the first quarter of a mile. A civic address was read outside the town hall, where the Prince, whose voice had given out, wisely abstained from straining it further by any attempt to make it heard beyond the platform occupied by the Mayor and Councillors.
Later on he attended a big state luncheon. The speakers included the Premier, who dwelt upon Tasmania's loyalty and warm-hearted devotion to the Empire. He also referred to developments that will eventually revolutionize the industrial and commercial future of the island, no less than a quarter of a million horse-power being in course of being tapped by hydro-electric installations.
Mr. Ogden, the Labour Party chairman and leader of the Opposition in the State Legislature, also spoke. He said the loyalty of Tasmania was not to be measured by the population of this beautiful island, but was a loyalty that extended to an Empire wherein the great gulf between rich and poor would eventually be narrowed. The Prince was by this time too hoarse to reply at any length. He managed to tell his enthusiastic audience, however, that the chief thing he would have liked to be able to say to them was how much he appreciated the reception given to him.
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Down Under with the PrinceChapter V: Front Matter (5)
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