Chapter VI: Front Matter (6)

The Prince's engagements during the two days he spent at Hobart included a civic ball and races, an investiture and a big outdoor popular reception, and witnessing the electric illumination of the city. The last was especially interesting, not only as exhibiting what is probably one of the most beautiful ports in the world, but also as an illustration of one of the uses to which Tasmania's new hydro-electric power can be put. The installation, which is connected with the overflow of an impounded lake in the centre of the island, is rapidly transforming this sleepy little State of the Commonwealth into a busy industrial centre. Copper mines on the west coast are doing all their smelting by this means. Hobart and Launceston drive their trams and light their street lamps with the new power. Before the war the whole of the zinc ore won from the Broken Hill mines in South Australia went to Germany as a matter of course to be converted. Tasmania now handles much and will presently handle all of it. Hitherto Australian downs have grown the wool and Yorkshire looms have woven it. Presently Tasmanian mills will perform the latter process, and so far as the Commonwealth is concerned her fleeces will no longer make the journey across two oceans and back, on their way to adorn and comfort the persons of her population. From the manufacturer's point of view there are advantages in isolation. Power, sugar and a liberal market have drawn the Cadbury firm to Hobart, and foundations are already laid which will ultimately prosper upon the sweet tooth of the Polynesian belle. The old Arcadian days of Tasmania are gone with its colonial status. Its climate will always draw seekers of ease in retirement, and its orchards will remunerate their leisure, but the future of the State, under the protection of the Commonwealth tariff, is industrial.

The humorous inhabitants of its larger fellow States have a way of calling the island a "flyfleck," but its importance in the Commonwealth is out of all proportion to its size. The amenities it offers have from the beginning attracted the settler with some liberty of choice, with the result that Tasmania has contributed a large proportion of leading men to the Commonwealth. It is also remarkable for the number of retired members of the military and civil services of India amongst its settlers, men who in their prime have borne heavy responsibilities, and in their declining years are giving still commanding abilities to the development of the land they have chosen to be their home.

The Prince crossed Tasmania by rail at night, arriving the following morning at Launceston, another seaport city of extraordinary scenic beauty. Here he added to his tour one more experience of the entire population turning out to welcome him in a city decorated from end to end in honour of his coming. He stayed the night at the "Brisbane" hotel, and attended a number of ceremonies. In the course of the afternoon he inspected masses of school-children. The physical impossibility of shaking hands with all the teachers in attendance suggested the idea of inviting those of them who were returned soldiers to do so, and it was surprising what a large proportion were able to claim the honour. Another function was his meeting disabled men at the principal hospital. These poor fellows gave him the wildest reception, and the whole assemblage laughed most heartily when, on the invitation of one of them, he flicked halfpennies in a "two up" game. Later on the Prince climbed the beautiful Cataract gorge afoot, at a pace with which the members of the Cabinet who were with him had all they could do to keep up. He finished a long day with a visit to the Launceston races, followed by a popular reception at the town hall, where ten thousand people passed in procession before him.

The following day H.R.H. returned to Hobart, the State Premier and other members of the Government, including the Ministers of Lands and Railways, accompanying him on the train. The inhabitants assembled and cheered him at every passing station, while at the more important, including Tunbridge, Parallah and Brighton, he alighted and participated in civic receptions. The region traversed included a rich farming and orcharding district, on which numbers of returned soldiers, some of them belonging to the British Army, who are being given by the Government precisely the same treatment as their Australian comrades, are being started as farmers. The State not only supplies them with already cleared and fenced holdings and necessary buildings, but finances them on terms calculated to enable men without a penny of their own, beyond their war gratuity, to become independent freehold proprietors within ten years. One of the features of this admirable scheme is that the settlement has attached to it an expert instructor, who is in Government employ. Those settlers who have so far moved in have found a portion of the holdings allotted to them already under crop, and some one at hand to teach them how to apply their own labour to the best advantage. They are being inducted into agricultural prosperity, in one of the most perfect climates in the world, close to a railway, and in surroundings comparable to those of Devonshire. One of them brought to show to the Prince two prize sheep-dogs he had reared which he valued at a hundred and fifty pounds. The Royal party left this spot regretfully, so full of fair prospects for men who deserve all that can be done for them did it seem. The number so far settled is not very large, but the Minister for Lands, to whose initiative, resource and enthusiasm the success already achieved is largely due, is hopeful that it will be possible to extend it to all suitable returned men who present themselves. In this case Tasmania should receive a signal increase in population, for nowhere in the world have I seen a more cheerful outlook for the soldier who is of the right type to become a farmer.

The Prince was booked to spend the evening of his return to Hobart at the Soldiers' Club, before going on board the _Renown_, which was to sail at midnight. It was characteristic of the Tasmanians that the men themselves remembered how trying this would be for him after his long and strenuous day. They proposed, therefore, of their own motion, that they should say good-bye to him on the wharf, and this was the course ultimately adopted. It was a graceful act which fittingly terminated one of the pleasantest visits of the tour.

XX

QUEENSLAND

Accompanied by His Majesty's Australian Ship _Australia_, and two destroyers, the _Renown_ made a fine weather voyage to Sydney from Tasmania. After crossing the Bass Strait the course was close inshore along the beautifully wooded hills of New South Wales, and boats laden with people put out from the small whaling port of Eden to greet the Prince. Loyal messages were also flashed from homesteads further up the coast when the _Renown_ came in sight, transmitted by men, now back in their homes, who had learnt to signal in France or Gallipoli. Entering Sydney harbour, numbers of yachts and launches were found waiting in the fairway to welcome the flotilla, the scene being almost as gay as when the Prince first arrived at this wonderful port. The wharf also demonstrated the interest felt in the arrival. It was loaded with people whose cheers were undiminished as the Prince went his way to the station, where he proceeded at once to entrain for Queensland.

The rail journey northwards produced some of the most remarkable experiences of the tour, experiences the more notable for occurring in States where public sentiment is perhaps more markedly democratic than anywhere else in Australia. The first stop of any consequence was at the coal-mining town of High Street. Here the Prince was taken by car in procession through decorated streets, lined with people twenty deep the whole way. The objective was the neighbouring railway station of West Maitland, where H.R.H. was to rejoin the train, and where he found an enormous crowd of miners and their wives and children, who gave him a rousing welcome. He shook hands with three hundred returned men, also with a pathetically long line of mothers, widows, and orphans of fallen soldiers, and he inspected a big gathering of school-children.

A picturesque figure occupied a place in the crowd on the road between High Street and West Maitland, a native Australian woman in flowing robes, with a golden crown on her head, who was the head of a local tribe of blacks. Standing beside her was a full-blooded son, who had lost a leg in France, whither he had gone in company with white squatters, amongst whom, prior to this, he had presumably been a stockman. She added to her memories and her dignities a word with the Prince of Wales.

Beyond West Maitland the route passed through fine park-like country, with wooded hills and cultivated valleys, plainly visible in the bright moonlight which had succeeded a typically balmy New South Wales winter's day. The train stopped and receptions were held at various minor centres, including Murrurundi, a place full of the romantic associations of a bygone generation, when this part of Australia was still a land of bush, broken only by very occasional squatters' cabins and mining camps. As the Prince stood on a gaily decorated platform outside the station with orderly lines of returned men and neatly dressed lady war-workers beside him, one's mind went back to wilder scenes, enacted many years ago. A grey-headed man told how, on almost exactly this spot, a bush-ranger had been shot, after long eluding capture with the help of his sister, who was a waitress at the local drinking saloon, whence she used to ride out to his hiding-place at night in the hills, upon a horse borrowed from race-stables near by. In this way information and supplies were communicated to him, the midnight journeyings upon the borrowed thoroughbred not being brought to light until the time came round for the annual race-gathering, when the mud and sweat of its condition attracted attention. What became of the girl, my informant did not know, but she was honoured in the story if not in the incident.

Wallangarra, the border station between New South Wales and Queensland, was reached the following morning, when the Prince again had the modified excitement of changing gauges. Here he bade farewell to Mr. Hodgson, who had acted throughout the tour in charge of the railways of New South Wales. He was welcomed by a distinguished group of officials representing Queensland, who came on board the train. The Premier, the Hon. Mr. E. G. Theodore, was at that moment on public business in London on behalf of the Queensland Government; the Governor, Sir Hamilton Gould Adams, had recently retired. Their places were filled by Mr. Fihelly, acting Premier, and Mr. Lennon, acting Governor, pending the arrival of Sir Matthew Nathan from England.

From the border the track climbed steadily to the top of a pleasant wooded plateau, three thousand feet above sea level, dotted with rich orchards and gardens, which are being opened up in increasing numbers and of late at rapidly advancing land prices. It is difficult to realize at first sight how the fruit-trees manage to take root. Some of the very richest and most sought after plots are a mass of tumbled rocks amongst which there seems room for nothing to grow, yet it is just amongst these rocks that the very finest peaches and apples are raised.

A newly constructed branch line carried the party to the returned soldiers' settlement of Amiens. Here a cheerful crowd of some two hundred Australians and British had assembled, accompanied by wives and babies, the wives in a surprisingly large percentage of cases from England, and the babies some of the healthiest looking imaginable. The Prince would have liked to spend some time in this settlement, but an inexorable programme hurried him away. He had time, however, to hear a great deal about the felling, burning and clearing up of string-bark forest, the fencing and ploughing of the land, also the planting of it with fruit-trees of the finest stocks. He also saw a number of comfortable bungalows each with the amenity of a roomy veranda, in which the settlers live. Ten acres of good soil were considered a sufficiently large holding to keep one man employed, and each place is arranged to include this area, apart from rocky or water-logged portions. The average out-turn of such a holding, when planted with suitable trees of six years' growth, is estimated, with prevailing fruit prices, at L700 per annum. Returned men, accepted by the local agricultural authorities as likely to succeed on such properties, and irrespective of whether they are from Australian or British units, are able to obtain advances, as they may require them, up to a total of L625, against work done upon their places. These advances are repayable in easy instalments, spread over long series of years, at about five per cent. interest, which is less than the money at present costs to provide. Most of the holdings, when seen by the Prince, were only partially cleared and planted. The men were hopeful of pulling through, however, until the trees should come into bearing, their pensions and advances, eked out by the growing of tomatoes, potatoes and other vegetables, for which there appeared to be considerable local demand at remunerative prices, being considered sufficient to keep them. Once the trees come into bearing their owners can reasonably expect to do quite well. The authorities estimated that, in the ordinary course, a man should be able to pay off all indebtedness within ten years, after which he would find himself the absolute owner of an unencumbered property, capable of indefinite expansion by taking up more land, and even without any expansion, sufficient to support the settler and his wife and children in conditions of comparative comfort.

The life on these holdings is in the open air, in a sunny climate, without any extremes of temperature, amongst beautiful natural surroundings, and in an atmosphere so bracing that these well-watered uplands have long been utilized as a health resort. The breaking in of the holdings is, no doubt, very hard work, and here the Government advances make it possible to pay for help in the case of men unequal to do the whole of it themselves. Once this has been done, the work that remains, of cultivating, manuring, pruning, and spraying the trees, and of picking and packing the fruit, is very much less strenuous; and for those prepared for a life in the open air where country pursuits replace the feverish interests of the city, the prospect seems almost ideal. Certainly those we saw entering upon it gave the very pleasantest impression. The man will, of course, do best who possesses those qualities which make him the lender, instead of the borrower, of the stump-puller, and the purveyor, instead of the buyer, of tinned luxuries at the co-operative shop and packing establishment. For all, however, there seems to be a living under conditions which must certainly be considered favourable.

The sun was getting low when the Royal train pulled up at Warwick, a prosperous city in the breezy uplands of the Darling Downs two thousand feet above the sea level, home of sheep, mixed farming and white-stemmed forest trees. Here in the Central park, commanding a beautiful view of blue distant mountains, the entire population had assembled and the usual civic address was presented.

I talked with two of the residents, both men from the Thames Valley, one a doctor, and the other a chauffeur. They agreed in not even considering the idea of going back to the old country. This part of Queensland, they said, was a place where it was easy to make a living, an its warmth and sunshine were delightful after the English winters of which so little can be safely predicted. They would not admit that the summer was too hot, or that the drought from which this part of Australia had only recently suffered had been more than a very temporary setback in the steady growth of continually increasing prosperity.

The train halted for the night in open upland country, with delightful bracing air, one of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen painting a clear evening sky. The following morning, in warm brilliant sunshine, the track crept down the wooded slopes that gird in the Darling Downs, and emerged in the rich cultivated Lockyer plain below. Here fine red cattle were feeding down magnificent crops, six inches up, of green luscious oats, the settlers considering that this somewhat remarkable procedure increases the ultimate harvest of grain, by causing the young plants to stool out.

Beyond the Lockyer plain the route lay through the Liverpool hills whence it descended, by easy gradient, to Brisbane and the sea. Not a station, a village or a house upon the way, but was gay with decorations. The inhabitants were out upon all sides, on horseback, in buggies, in cars, or seated upon fence rails, every man of them hat in hand, every woman and girl a-smile, every child wide-eyed with excitement. Operatives cutting down trees, navvies shovelling ballast upon the railway track, farmers plowing their fields, husbandmen pruning their orchards, stopped work and saluted or shouted a welcome as the train went by. Boys raced beside the Royal saloon in youthful endeavour to keep up. Not a churlish glance, nor an indifferent face, was seen for a hundred miles.

Brisbane first presented itself in the shape of pleasant garden suburbs full of wooden houses on stilts, each surrounded by a garden of flowers. It developed, as the train rushed on, into the solid masonry of a closely built city. The heartsome sound of cheering accompanied all the way. Arrived at the railway station, H.R.H. was welcomed with every formality. The State Premier, the whole of the Cabinet, the Mayor and the city Council, received him on the platform. Naval and military guards-of-honour were in attendance. The usual procession of motor-cars was ultimately in motion, and carried the visitor through several miles of streets, in which elaborately decorated arches, made of wool bales, fruit, vegetables, and corn-sheaves, gave homely, delightful, convincing character to their setting. Crowds lined the entire route and gave the Prince a welcome the warmth of which was equal to that of any he had previously received. The way was kept by returned men, and long lines of women war-workers, including nurses and helpers of every kind, formed a solid wall of white on either side of the route for at least a quarter of a mile.

In the Albert Square Mayor Maxwell read an address of welcome. At the University pretty girl-students, in black caps and gowns, raced one another across the grounds to get a second view of the Prince after they had stood demurely at attention as he went past. On the grassy slopes of the wide Domain beside the river, backed by an assemblage of ten thousand delighted school-children, the Prince reviewed the men who had been keeping the route through the city. To render this possible every detachment had closed up and followed the procession after the cars had passed. In this way were gathered some two thousand men representing every arm of the service. The designations of the First, Second, Third, Fourth, and Fifth Australian Divisions were in evidence on the flags carried past the saluting point.

Another interesting occasion during the visit to Brisbane was the local agricultural exhibition, which never, in the long history of this popular institution, had been so crowded, the principal stores and other business establishments having all been closed in honour of the occasion. The proceedings began with a procession through the wool, wheat, sugar-cane, fruit, butter, cheese, pig, and cattle exhibitions halls, the Prince and members of the committee making slow progress in the crowds of cheering spectators. The afternoon was devoted to a parade of prize-winning cattle and horses. This was held in a big amphitheatre--seventy years ago the crude "Bora," sacred initiation ground, of Queensland savages, now the beautifully turfed show-ring of the National Agricultural Association. Here, in the presence of some seventy thousand spectators, the Prince saw some very fine jumping, not devoid of minor mishaps. He himself ran to help to pick up a girl whose mount came down at one of the fences. By this time it will be noted that it was impossible to keep H.R.H. out of any kind of incident not strictly arranged for. He also assisted at an attempt, not the less interesting because it just failed of success, to lower the mile trotting-record of the track.

Leaving the show in the afternoon, the Prince proceeded, in company with the acting Premier and the Lieutenant-Governor, to Farm Park, where he took tea upon the grass with the Mayor and Aldermen of Brisbane, in the midst of thousands of spectators. So closely was the civic tea-table surrounded that the red cross nurses, to whom fell the duty of waiting on the Royal party, scarcely had room to perform their functions. The number of cups and spoons and other articles that became heirlooms in 1920 for the benefit of Australasian posterity must be considerable. The Prince was eventually extracted from the crush, and embarked, amidst much cheering and hand-clapping, upon one of numerous decorated motor-boats which took him, attended by a flock of yachts, across the wide Brisbane river, in the yellow sunset, on a visit to invalid soldiers in the fine "Anzac" Hospital on the other side.

Another notable function in Brisbane was the state dinner, at which representative men from every part of Queensland were present, some four hundred sitting down. The Prince was between the acting Premier and the Lieutenant-Governor. The Papal representative, Monsignor Cattaneo, occupied a seat on the other side of the Lieutenant-Governor. Others present included the Anglican Bishop, the members of the State Cabinet and the Legislative Council, and the Chief Justice. The streets outside were densely packed with people, who became so insistent in cheering after the Prince had got inside that he left the banquet to wave to them from the balcony. Mr. Fihelly, in proposing the toast of the evening, emphasized that their Royal guest had endeared himself to all with whom he had come in contact, and had been found to be "a man of parts, a man of ability, able to take his place amongst men, and one who would carry away with him the goodwill of all the people of Queensland."

Mr. Vowles, Nationalist Leader of the Opposition, spoke in similarly loyal tone. The Prince rose to reply amidst cheers, and developed his points in a voice which his hearers noticed had now recovered its clearness and resonance. In the course of a long and enthusiastically received speech he dwelt upon the wonderful reception he had had, the pleasure his visit had given him, and especially on the large part taken in the receptions by returned sailors, soldiers and women war-workers. Referring to the soldier settlement he had visited on his way to Brisbane, he congratulated the Queensland Government on the foresight and energy with which they had tackled the repatriations problems. "You cannot do too much," he said, "for your diggers, who played such a big part in saving the Empire, and who should be looked upon as the backbone of the Commonwealth.... My tour in Australia, alas!" he continued, "is nearly over. It is particularly to the future of the Commonwealth that my thoughts turn. My visit to Australia has taught me that the spirit wherein your diggers volunteered, and fought and won, is not something unique or out of the way, which will never happen again, but the natural outcome of a national spirit which is going to make Australia one of the great progressive nations of the world. Their free and gallant services in the war have shown to yourselves, to the Empire and to the world what you are and what you can do. With such a spirit in its men and women Australia has a splendid future in its grasp. I came to Australia already feeling a strong bond of comradeship with your troops: I shall leave it feeling even a stronger bond of comradeship with the Australian people as a whole, and my heart will always be with them in their mighty task of building up the solid British fabric of freedom, justice and security with fair play for all upon this vast continent."

Another of the Brisbane functions was a popular reception in the public gardens overlooking the river. Here some thousands of people passed before the Prince, who stood upon a dais, the acting Premier beside him. Girls presented bouquets of flowers. Men and women stopped to wish him good luck on his homeward voyage, or to photograph him at close quarters. Here and there an old-fashioned curtsy would be dropped, or cheering or hand-clapping started. The great majority of the people expressed themselves in a simple nod or smile, or waved hand or hat or handkerchief as they went by. One could not help recognizing, not only that they had taken the Prince to their hearts, but that while paying him the great compliment of ceasing to treat him with formality, there was no diminution in the deference that was shown. When he left the reception he went back to his quarters in Parliament Buildings, where, marching up and down, were armed cadets in full service kit, volunteers from districts it had not been possible for the Prince to visit, their expenses all paid by local subscriptions. There was no serious necessity for the services of these young warriors, but they represented the universal determination of North-Eastern Australia that "our Prince," as by this time he had begun to be called, should lose nothing of pomp or Royal circumstance while he remained the guest of their State.

Before the Prince left, Monsignor Cattaneo, Apostolic Delegate, and the Very Reverend M. Duhig, Catholic Archbishop of Queensland, asked and obtained an interview at which they formally presented "the homage and devotion to the throne of the whole Catholic community of Australia." They dwelt upon the deep loyalty of this community and declared that the Prince had won all their hearts.

In the course of his visit to Brisbane H.R.H. was shown State factories, State shops, State insurance offices, and State markets in full operation, a class of enterprise under experiment in natural conditions so favourable as to give it at least a sporting chance. He also heard much of the sugar-cane, coco-nut-palm and banana plantations, and the enormous cattle ranges of the northern territories where Queensland rolls away into the tropics and there is rich land and to spare for a population as large as that of France.

Leaving Brisbane one day during his visit to that city, the Prince proceeded by train through a well-wooded country of rich black soil, just then a quagmire from heavy but welcome rain. He touched at a number of centres, including Ipswich, head-quarters of woollen mills and coal-mines, and Harrisville and Boonah, country towns where farming and pastoral communities predominate. Every stopping-place had been converted by unpaid local labour into a beflagged forest of greenery, in the midst of which the inhabitants of the entire neighbourhood, also many from far distant stations, had assembled. At Ipswich the streets were lined by operatives and miners, and the welcome of this important place included a car procession through decorated streets, a popular reception, a mayoral address, and a civic luncheon served to the strains of one of the largest and best trained choirs in the State. Vocal music as the accompaniment of food was an unaccustomed luxury to many of those present, but it did not appear to interfere with the general appetite. At Boonah the proceedings were simpler but not on that account less impressive, although they took place in a pelting rainstorm. The Prince waded through an ankle-deep stream of flood-water to an exposed platform, where, surrounded by a crowd of squatters, stockmen, farmers and their families, including large numbers of women and children, all standing in the downpour with streaming mackintoshes and umbrellas, he unveiled a fine marble war-memorial bearing three hundred names. He also shook hands with relatives of the fallen, and with numbers of returned men, nurses and other war-workers.

On the way back to Brisbane further centres were visited. Amongst them were Maryborough, a manufacturing and coal-mining city, where the steel skeletons of two twelve-thousand-ton steamers, under construction for the Commonwealth Government, towered amidst the decorations. One of the arches was surmounted by a group of blacks in native costume, armed with bows, arrows and spears, which they wielded realistically. Another carried a dozen diggers in uniform. Other places visited were Tiaro, where the assemblage that greeted the Prince consisted chiefly of agriculturalists; Gympie, where the returned men, assembled in a war-memorial park, included gold-miners as well as farmers; Cooroy, where the Prince made the acquaintance of a large logging community; Landsborough, where sugar-cane planters, and banana and orange-growers preponderated, and Beerburrum, Queensland's biggest soldier settlement, where he shook hands with a large number of returned men engaged in growing pineapples.

The Prince finally left Brisbane amidst unforgettable scenes of national enthusiasm and emotion. The entire population of the city seemed to be in the streets. The neighbourhood of the railway station was blocked by masses of cheering men, women and children. The railway station buildings were besieged, the more influential folk, including the members of the State Government, and their families, thronged the platform. The general public crowded windows, balconies, culverts, overbridges, and fences, wherever a glimpse of the train could be obtained. The start had to be three times postponed, so many were the Prince's personal farewells. After the train got into motion, motor-cars raced beside the track, school-children were found lined up at wayside crossings, stumps and telegraph poles were perching places for daring climbers. Everybody waved something, if it were not a handkerchief, a flag or a hat, it was the nearest thing to hand. I saw a vegetable hawker wildly flourishing his biggest cabbage, a housewife excitedly using a tablecloth as a signal of affection, a company of railway carriage-cleaners throwing their dusters upon the wind. Workmen in overalls, carters with teams of horses, stockmen riding to their duties stopped and doffed hats as the train went by. "Old Lang Syne" was taken up, again and again, by thousands of voices, to be itself drowned in a chorus of shouted "Goodbyes." All the Members of the Cabinet travelled upon the Royal train as far as the border of the State. The acting Premier had to stay behind for urgent public reasons, but was so determined not to be left out of the proceedings that he attempted to follow the train in an aeroplane, and was only stopped by crashing heavily. The demonstration was so remarkable that even the Queenslanders themselves were astonished at it. Enthusiasm had taken possession of this democratic people, and there seemed to be no length to which they were not prepared to go. Here was a country where the people are as sovereign as anywhere on earth. Yet wayside villages and towns on the southward journey, one after another, took up and repeated Brisbane's farewell demonstrations. The crowds at the railway stations, where addresses were presented, included in many instances definitely more people than the entire population of the immediate centre, this being due to farmers, squatters, and settlers bringing their families incredible distances by train, by motor, in buggies, or on horseback, so that they might not miss the occasion. In one case four well-mounted girls galloped astride nearly a mile, keeping abreast with the train, and arriving at the next station, where an address was to be read, just as the Prince alighted. Their spirited ride secured them a handshake and a compliment.

The train halted for the night at Toowoomba, in the heart of a wonderful agricultural region, which was found smiling under splendid crops. Here the countryside had long been preparing for the Prince's coming, and the celebrations were of the liveliest, everything, including decorations, gathering of returned men, civic banquet, and ball, being planned to create a record.

The following morning the Prince recrossed the border, over a carpet woven of yellow wattle flowers. It was a pretty thought and offered him much.

XXI

THE JACKAROO AND OTHERS

When the Prince left Queensland he had practically completed his official tour of the Australian States. There remained for him the improvised series of visits to the back-blocks of New South Wales, which took the place of the abandoned journey to New Guinea. Here he stayed in the houses of squatters, some of them controlling sheep-runs hundreds of thousands of acres in extent, and mingled in the most informal manner in country life and country pastimes. In the wonderful air of this region he regained much of the spring and energy he had lost in the preceding months of strenuous official touring. The Government officers on the Royal train meanwhile returned to Sydney.

The route taken by the Prince after leaving Wallangarra for the interior lay through beautiful scenery across the famous Blue Mountains. One looked out, as the train climbed upwards, across vast stretches of green-forested gorges and grey crags of fluted limestone, with purple and aquamarine ridges on the far horizon--a land filled only with the colour and the form of wild nature. The Prince started on the foot-plate of the engine, which he drove himself up a one-in-thirty-three grade slope. Although his journey was now entirely unofficial, numbers of people assembled and cheered him at the principal stations. At Lawson he alighted and shook hands with returned men, including Private Duncan Allan, the oldest soldier in the Australian forces. Later on, crossing the open Bathurst sheep-downs, a halt was made at the wayside station of Kelso, where horses were in waiting and he took, in the rain, a brisk ride across country, rejoining the train that evening at Bathurst.

The following morning the train reached Coonamble, terminus of the railway, a township of wooden houses, situated on a vast grassy plain, in the heart of sheep-raising country, two hundred and sixty miles from Sydney. Here Mr. Oliver, President of the Shire, accompanied by the local mayor and members of his council, received the Prince upon the platform, and conducted him in a motor-car procession to a grassy park in the middle of the town, where he found awaiting him a large assemblage of people, including the usual contingents of returned men and school-children, also nurses and other war-workers. An address was presented, and thereafter the procession was continued to the racecourse, where horses had been collected. The Prince and his staff mounted and set off across recently flooded country for Wingadee, thirty miles distant, where the week-end was to be spent at one of the stations of the Australian and New Zealand Land Company. Lunch was served in the open at one of the artesian bore-holes that furnish this country with water, even the severe drought which preceded the recent floods not having affected the supply. The Prince here visited a typical bush saloon and in bush fashion called for drinks for all the settlers he found there. Later in the afternoon he reached Wingadee, where he was received by Mr. McEwan, General Manager of the Company. He spent the afternoon riding about this up-to-date station and going over the wool-sheds. The host of his visit was Mr. Fechan, the Superintendent.

In the next few days the Prince rode a number of horses, inspecting the wool-sheds and flocks, chasing kangaroos and emus, and had the opportunity of forgetting the formalities of public receptions. On the day of departure from Wingadee he rode thirty miles back to the little country racecourse at Coonamble, where he remained throughout the afternoon watching the racing in the casual mud-splashes of his own ride. The enclosure was crowded with squatters from all parts of Northern New South Wales, who gave him the most cordial reception, and followed him afterwards to the railway station to cheer the train by which he left for Myowera, another small station sixty miles distant in the same great plain.

Here the Prince stayed on the Canoubar run in the house of Mr. and Mrs. McLeod, Mr. Niall, managing director of the company, supervising the arrangements for his entertainment, which were on the most hospitable scale. At Canoubar he saw the working of a big sheep station in full operation, including shearing, sheep-drafting, wool-packing, and the driving of flocks by wonderfully trained dogs, also the handling and breaking-in of station horses. One of the merino rams shown to him had recently been bought for two thousand five hundred pounds sterling. As to the performances of the dogs, the confiding correspondents were told that they could drive a fowl into a jam tin, but I am not aware whether H.R.H. was asked to believe this. On the afternoon of his arrival he rode nine miles, much of it along natural avenues of gum-trees, to the country town of Nyngan. His host accompanied him, mounted on his fine steeple-chaser Bullawarra, once sent to England to run in the Grand National.

At Nyngan the entire countryside was found assembled and the Prince met a large company of returned men, besides relatives of those who would not return, nurses and other war-workers. All the school-children of the neighbourhood were also there. The programme included the laying of a foundation-stone, after which he rode home escorted by a bodyguard of light-horsemen, who gave a display of bush-galloping a mile outside the station.

Next day H.R.H. was made acquainted with the Jackaroo. The Jackaroo is neither a crow nor a parrot nor any kind of quadruped. He is a young gentleman of Australia who desires to become a squatter, and who gives his services on a sheep-run for the opportunity of picking up the business. He was living, where the Prince encountered him, with, half a dozen of his fellows, in a comfortable building with roomy sleeping quarters and an old soldier in charge of the mess. His food is plain but substantial and appetizing, a leading feature of it, the slab of "brownie" bread, full of currants, which tells its own tale of his age and digestion. The Jackaroo spends most of his day in the saddle, riding long distances to outlying parts of the run, on the hunt for bogged sheep, or in supervising lambing or moving flocks from one paddock to another. Often he will not see a living soul from the time he starts out in the morning until he returns at night, and he may even lose his way. He then makes a bee-line in the likeliest direction until he comes to the wire fence of the boundary, which he may follow for miles before he reaches a landmark he knows. The speedometer of one car which had been out on fence inspection the day before the Prince arrived, marked 120 miles, travelled in a single day, so it may be presumed that the Jackaroo's bump of locality develops early. The squatter is generally glad to take on likely boys, as he finds them, when the first fecklessness is worn off, on the whole more conscientious than paid labour, an important point for work that has to be so largely delegated. The life is healthy and interesting, and on up-to-date runs like the ones seen, looked exceedingly pleasant. The young fellows come as a rule from families of good class and generally have means of their own--a combination which should make the life history of the Jackaroo not unrewarding to the student of the fauna of these parts. His own point of view would have been worth obtaining, but being young he was modest and said little. He rode buck-jumpers for the Prince. He buck-jumped rather specially well, as might be expected of a Jackaroo. His name is a felicity that will outlive much topography. One wonders who invented it.

The Prince on several occasions shared in the sport of kangaroo chasing, which leaves fox-hunting standing. On one occasion he rode all day guided by sons of his hosts through vast paddocks fenced with wire, over an even carpet of young green grass, which was then just springing up after floods following three years of drought, and took many a jump over fallen trunks of trees killed by systematic ringing to make way for fodder raising. On the way thirty or forty kangaroos were seen and five of them were chased over formidable obstacles which the "old men"--the male kangaroos--cleared with extraordinary ease in their long hopping stride, at a pace that took greyhounds all they could do to overtake. These kangaroos eat sometimes by no means an inconsiderable amount of pasture needed for the sheep, and some years ago were being so extensively shot down that they were in danger of being exterminated. A close season was introduced and now they are increasing to the extent, in some localities, of again becoming troublesome. They are much the colour of the tree trunks, and until startled are easily overlooked in the bush. They are off with most wonderful grace and agility the moment they are disturbed and can even clear the high barbed wire fences by which the runs are bounded provided they approach at a right angle. When running parallel to the fence they cannot get the necessary foothold for a big enough spring. This is sometimes taken advantage of by the rider, who, being of course unable to put his horse over so formidable an obstacle, endeavours to head off the kangaroo in such manner that it may reach the fence at a slanting angle. In this case the chase continues alongside instead of being finished by the kangaroo's escape over the fence. When overtaken by dogs, which are often used in the chase, the kangaroo makes a gallant fight for life, and many a hound has been ripped open and killed by a well-directed kick from its powerful hind feet, before it can be shot.

The emu also lent itself to the excitement of the chase during the tour. The big brown wingless bird much the size and shape of the ostrich, is quite unable even to jump, but runs as fast as a horse can gallop, and when pursued will charge a barbed wire fence so hard as to break its way through, its feathers protecting it from being seriously torn. It is on this account not beloved by the squatter, but it is seldom shot. The Prince brought away with him two newly hatched emu chickens, creatures the size of ducks and prettily marked in shades of black and fawn. Their quarters on the _Renown_ were in a roomy cage on the superstructure, where they soon established a reputation as quiet, sober and well-behaved members of the ship's company.

On several of his expeditions the Prince was given a meal in the bush camp fashion. One of these was on the shady banks of a stream twenty-five miles from a station, from which he had ridden out in the morning accompanied by sons of his hosts. Here quantities of dead gum-tree trunks were quietly burning, and were made use of for grilling chops and making billy tea. The latter is quite unlike and, to the hungry rider, infinitely preferable to the teapot variety. A tin-can is filled at the nearest water-hole and is carried to a burning tree trunk, on which it is gingerly balanced, usually with the aid of a stick, the tree trunk being as a rule too hot to reach without one. The water boils with extraordinary rapidity and the pot is quickly hooked off the fire. A generous handful of tea is thrown into the water before it ceases to boil and the resultant brew is drunk from any utensil that happens to be handy. Nobody inquires what becomes of the tea leaves.

One of the sights on the Canoubar run was sixty thousand sheep recently returned from stations in well-watered districts, in one case five hundred miles distant by rail, whither they had been sent to stay over the years of drought. These sheep had all been carried by the state railways of New South Wales, at extraordinarily low rates, and with surprisingly few casualties. They offered a concrete example of what had been done on a very large scale throughout the State, where the railways were able to save for the squatters hundreds of thousands of valuable sheep, which must otherwise have perished when the fodder supply gave out. The Prince was so interested in what he saw that there was no getting him away before dark. By the time he was back in the station he had ridden over sixty miles without leaving the run.

XXII

AMONGST THE SHEEP

Within the memory of men who have not yet reached middle age, sheep-rearing in Australia was a gamble. At one time large fortunes might be made, at another the fruits of long years of thrift and labour might be swept away by causes which appeared to be outside human control. Now the industry has become a science. The settler may make more or he may make less, according as the world price for wool is high or low. He has his welfare in his own hands, however, and has only to go the right way to work to make certain of a living.

The removal of the rabbit-pest has been particularly complete. The Prince saw wire fencing, extending in some cases in unbroken stretches for thousands of miles, which is at once so high and so deeply embedded in the ground that rabbits can neither burrow beneath nor climb over it. Once a paddock, fenced in this way, has been cleared it remains permanently free. The principal measures for clearing are the systematic ploughing of every warren, which effectually stops the burrows, and thereafter the driving by dogs and horsemen of such rabbits as are above ground to the fences, where covered pits, led up to by long converging lines of wire netting, have been prepared in advance. The rabbits follow one another through drop entrances into these pits, thousands being sometimes captured in one night on a single run. The operation has only to be repeated, in one paddock after another, to free an estate completely. The value of the rabbits and their fur covers most of the cost involved. One may meet gigantic crates on wheels, each drawn by a dozen horses and sometimes containing twenty thousand rabbits, _en route_ to factories where the skins are cured and the flesh prepared for export. By these means many runs have been completely cleared, while others are in course of being similarly dealt with.

As regards methods of fighting drought, in addition to the help given by the railways in moving sheep from drought-infected areas, to regions where the grass has not dried up, the storage of fodder in good years to make up for deficiency in bad ones, is a further measure adopted. Artesian borings, even where they are inadequate for irrigation purposes, will water millions of sheep where the surface supply is defective.

It was at one time feared that the tapping of the subsoil water over tens of thousands of square miles in New South Wales, where the geological formations are such as to render this class of enterprise remunerative, would gradually exhaust the supply. Experience over a number of years, including prolonged periods of drought, however, has not confirmed this apprehension. The Prince was shown wells which had been running for twenty years without intermission. In some cases, it is true, fresh borings have had to be made, but it has been discovered that the failure of the old ones is almost always due, not to any deficiency in water-pressure below ground, but to the silting up or the corroding of the pipe itself. Fresh bores yield full supplies, close alongside those that have given out. Restrictions are rightly imposed by Government upon the sinking of more than what is considered a reasonable number of wells in any one area, and up to the present, in the entire sheep region visited by the Prince, this arrangement has allowed sufficient supplies to be forthcoming for the watering of all stock, even in such periods of prolonged drought as that from which this part of Australia had very recently emerged.

Minor enemies of the squatter are the black carrion crows, creatures justly execrated by every back-block man. They are not unlike English rooks, but have the diabolical habit of attacking sick sheep and newly-born lambs, not infrequently pecking out their eyes. They are also charged with poisoning the wounds they make, so that a sheep may die which appears to have been only very slightly pecked. The harmless looking galahs, white parrots with pink breasts, make themselves only one degree less objectionable by eating the grain. Both of these pests, however, are being got under, with the growth in the number of sportsmen with scatter guns in each district. The Prince shot several galahs, and if his bag did not include any carrion crows this was chiefly because the good work of shooting them had already been so efficiently done.

Another trouble of the squatter, the silting up of his fences with leaves and dust in the hot weather, until they disappear and sheep and cattle stray over them unimpeded, is also being successfully overcome. On one estate enormous machines like snow-ploughs were shown, which were periodically pulled by horses along the windward side of fences subject to this mishap. Floods come only occasionally, but the squatter has declined to allow himself to be defeated by them. The Prince saw the bones of many a stray sheep that had been drowned in the last visitation of this kind. It is indeed extraordinary that such a thing should occur upon a table-land two thousand feet above sea level, where rain is ordinarily so scanty that drought is continually feared. The very rarity of heavy rain, however, makes the conditions such that the water-courses may be inadequate to carry off any sudden downpour, with the result that the flooding, when it does occur, may easily be very extensive, as the country for hundreds of miles on end is almost absolutely level. Motor-cars have been used successfully to convey thousands of sheep, three or four at a time, from flooded areas to banks where they could exist until the water subsided. In other cases boats have been brought from incredibly distant rivers to carry stock to safety. Much has also been done upon men's backs, for the squatter does not allow his sheep to perish if anything within human strength can help them.

In this part of Australia the grass is so thin that from two to five acres are required to support each sheep. This accounts for the immense size of the runs, which extend in some cases to hundreds of thousands of acres. One of the results of so much grazing space is that epidemics are almost unknown. On one of the runs the Prince took a hand, with power-driven clippers in sheds, where one man shears, on the average, more than a hundred sheep in a single day, the wool fetching up to twenty-two pence a pound. Fleeces so ticketed indicate the neighbourhood of the wool millionaire, and he was to be met in all stages of opulence. A run carrying fifty thousand sheep, each yielding a profit of ten shillings in the year for wool alone, is by no means uncommon in this part of Australia, men who had established themselves in pre-war days, in quite a modest way, upon land leased from the State, not infrequently finding their incomes multiplied a number of times over as the rates for wool increased. The greater part of these profits has remained in the country, and much of it has been put into the development of the runs, and the improvement of the breeds of sheep, horses and cattle on them. In one of the stations a five-thousand-pound bull had recently been bought, and cows were valued at a thousand pounds apiece. On another, three rams were shown to the Prince which were considered to be worth six thousand pounds, being an average of two thousand each.

The methods of development adopted varied according to the financial position of the owners. A squatter with a long-established run who had paid off his mortgages, and had money in hand, would ordinarily keep more sheep upon a given area than his less prosperous neighbour, for the reason that he could afford to move them by rail in years of drought. The man more recently established, with whom money was not so plentiful, would keep his land more sparsely stocked. In one case only six thousand sheep were being raised, though the run would have supported twice that number in an ordinary season. Here the owner did the whole of the routine work of the place, with the assistance only of his two eldest sons, lads in their 'teens, and occasional hired hands for shearing and fencing.