Chapter II (2)

It does not appear necessary, in a work like this, to trouble the reader with an account of every village or of every valley in the districts through which I lead him; my object is to give a general and faithful description of the country only, reserving the power of drawing attention to any thing I may deem worthy of notice. Taking the district of Mount Barker therefore in its full range, I would observe, that it is one of the finest agricultural districts in the province. It abounds in very many beautiful alluvial valleys, which, when I first crossed, had grass that rose above the horses middles as they walked through it, and looked luxuriant beyond description. These valleys are limited both in length and breadth, but are level and clear; their soil is a rich alluvial deposit, and the plough can be driven from one end to the other without meeting a single obstacle to check its progress. Independently of these valleys, there are other portions of good grazing land in the Mount Barker district, but there are, nevertheless, very many stony ranges that are entirely useless even to stock. The Mount Barker district may be said to extend from the village of Nairne to Strathalbyn, on the River Angas, the latter place being 15 miles from the shores of Lake Victoria. Within the range of this district, there are also the villages of Hahansdorf and Macclesfield, the former being a German village, at no great distance from Mount Barker. Immediately to the north of the village of Nairne is Mount Torrens, the river of that name has several branches to the north-east of it as high up as Mount Gould. The first of the Company's special surveys, and perhaps some of the finest soil in the province is in this locality. The surveys on the sources and tributaries of the Torrens are splendid properties, and the Company may well consider them as amongst the most valuable of its acquisitions; beyond the heads of the Torrens the country is more hilly and less available. There are, nevertheless, isolated spots sufficiently large for the most comfortable homesteads. From this point, a west-south-west course will soon lead the traveller into the plains of Adelaide, and at less than 10 miles after entering upon them, he will again find himself in the metropolis. Again departing from it for the southern parts of the province, he will keep the Mount Lofty range upon his left, and will really find some difficulty in passing the numberless fences which now enclose the plains. The land indeed in this line of road is more fenced than in any other direction, a reason for this may be that the road runs nearer the base of the hills, and the land is consequently better than that on the lower ground. Many very excellent farms are to be found on the banks of the Sturt and the Onkaparinga, on the latter of which the village of Noorlunga has been established, at the point where the road crosses it. The Sturt has a tortuous course, somewhat to the northward of west, and falls into the gulf at Glenelg, after spreading over the flats behind the sand-hills at that place. The direction of the road is parallel to that of the ranges, or nearly south-south-west as far as the village of Noorlunga, when it turns more to the eastward of south, for Willunga, which is 28 miles distant from Adelaide. The banks of the Onkaparinga, above the crossing place, are extremely inaccessible, insomuch that stock can hardly be driven down to water for many miles above that point. The hills however are rounded in form, grassy, and clear of trees, consequently well adapted for grazing purposes. It was at Noorlunga, which is not more than two miles from the gulf, and can be approached in boats, as high as the bridge there, that Captain Barker first landed on the South Australian shore. The country between it and Willunga is generally good, portions of it are sandy and scrubby, but Morphett's Vale is a rich and extensive piece of land, and I can well remember before it was settled seeing several large stacks of hay that had been cut, as it then lay in a state of nature. Willunga is close under the foot of the hills, which here, trending to the south-south-west, meet the coast line extremity of the Southern Aldinga plains. Close to this point is a hill, called Mount Terrible, almost of a conical shape, over the very summit of this, in the early stages of the colony, the road led to Encounter Bay; and I shall not forget the surprise I experienced, when going to that place, on finding I could not by any possibility avoid this formidable obstacle. On the other side of Mount Terrible the country is very scrubby for some miles, until, all at once, you burst upon the narrow, but beautiful valley of Mypunga. This beautiful valley, which had scarcely been trodden by the European when I first encamped upon it, was then covered with Orchideous plants of every colour, amidst a profusion of the richest vegetation. A sweet rippling stream passed within five yards of my tent-door, and found its way to the Gulf about a mile below me to the west. It was on the occasion of my going to the sea mouth of the Murray, that I first stopped at this spot. Amongst the boat's crew I had brought with me from Adelaide a young lad, of not more than twenty-one, who had, for some weeks before, been leading a very hard life. At Mypunga he was seized with delirium tremens, and became so exceedingly outrageous, that I was obliged to have his feet and hands tied. In the morning he was still as frantic as ever, but the policeman, under whose charge I had placed him, having imprudently loosened the cord from his ankles, he suddenly started upon his feet, and gaining the scrub, through which we had descended into the valley, with incredible swiftness, secreted himself amongst it. Nor could we, by the utmost efforts during that and the succeeding day, discover his hiding place. I was accompanied by a man of the name of Foley, a bushranger of great notoriety, who had been captured by the Adelaide police, and was sent with my party in the hope that his knowledge of the coast would be of use to me, but neither could he discover the unfortunate runaway, who, there is no doubt, subsequently perished. Beyond Mypunga, to the south, are the valleys of Yankalilla and Rapid Bay, but very little, if in any respect inferior to the first mentioned place. The country between them is, however, extremely hilly, and contains some beautifully romantic spots of ground. The rock formation of this part of the ranges is very diversified; the upper part of Rapid valley is a fine grey limestone; a little to the southward veins both of copper and lead have been discovered, and I have good reason for supposing that quicksilver will one day or other be found in this part of the province. At Willunga there is a small stream, which issues from a valley close behind the township, and appears in former times to have laid many hundred acres of the flats below under water. Their soil is composed of the very richest alluvial deposit, and has produced some of the finest crops of wheat in the province. Aldinga plains lie to the south-west of Willunga, and are sufficiently extensive to feed numerous sheep, but unavailable in consequence of the deficiency of water upon them, and are an instance of a large tract of land lying in an unprofitable state, which might, with little trouble and expense, by sinking wells in different parts, be rendered extremely valuable. On ascending the hills above Willunga, in following up the southern line of road to Encounter Bay, it leads for several miles through a stringy-bark forest, and brings the traveller upon the great sandy basin, between Willunga and Currency Creek. This gloomy and sterile feature bears a strong contrast to the rich and fertile valleys I have described, and is really a most remarkable formation in the geology of the province. At an elevation of between 600 and 700 feet this basin is surrounded on all sides by rugged stony hills, excepting to the south and south-east, in which direc tion it falls into the valley of the Hindmarsh and Currency Creek respectively. Mount Magnificent, Mount Compass, and Mount Jagged, rise in isolated groups in different parts of the basin, the soil of which is pure sand, its surface is undulating, and in many parts covered with stunted banksias, through which it is difficult to force one's way in riding along. The Finniss rises behind Mount Magnificent, and is joined by a smaller branch from Mount Compass, as it flows from the eastward. At about 25 miles from Willunga the traveller descends into the valley of Currency Creek, and finds the change from the barren tract over which he has been riding as sudden as when he entered upon it from the rich flats of Willunga. The valley of Currency Creek is not, however, the same as those I have already described in other parts of the colony; it is prettily wooded and grassy, but continues narrow for some distance after you have entered it; a small running stream, with a rocky bed, occupying the centre of the valley, which ultimately escapes from the hills by a kind of gorge, and discharges itself into an arm of the Goolwa. The extent of good land in Currency Creek is not very great, and is bounded both to the north and south by barren scrub. Due south, at the distance from 15 to 18 miles, is Encounter Bay, the country intervening between the two points to the shores of the Goolwa is very level, the soil is light but rich, and there appeared to me to be many thousand acres that were adapted for agricultural purposes, better adapted indeed than the richer soils. Whether that view be correct or not, the valleys of the Inman and Hindmarsh immediately behind Encounter Bay would fully make up for the want of agricultural land in this part of the province. Hindmarsh valley is not of any great extent, but the soil is good, and its scenery in my humble opinion surpasses any other I remember in South Australia. I shall never, indeed, forget the beautiful effect of sunset, on a fine bold mountain at the head of it, called the Black Hill. The glowing orb was fast descending behind it to the west, and the Black Hill was cast into deep shade, whilst the sun's rays shooting down two valleys on either side gave the grass the appearance of young wheat. The extent of arable land in the valley of the Inman is very considerable, but in point of scenery bears no comparison with the first. I do not know whether I have made it sufficiently clear that there is a high range at the back of the coast hereabouts. If not, I would observe that it runs uninterruptedly from Mount Lofty to Cape Jarvis. Opposite to Encounter Bay it occupies nearly the centre of the promontory, and consequently forms a division of the eastern and western waters, there being a considerable breadth of barren stringy-bark forest between the heads of the opposite valleys, here as on the higher parts of the ranges near Mount Lofty, from the ascent of the great eastern road to the valley of the Onkerparinga.

It is a remarkable fact, but one that I believe I have already adverted to, that the farther north, towards the valley of the Wakefield, the more denuded of timber the country becomes, until at last not a tree of any kind can be seen. These extensive and open downs are, nevertheless, well grassed, and covered with a profusion of orchideous plants. Whether, however, there is any salt present in the soil, to check the growth of the trees, it is impossible to say. Undoubtedly many of the ponds in the Wakefield, as well as other parts of the province are brackish, but the same denuded state of the country exists not any where else. These districts are far too valuable to be overlooked, and are therefore extensively occupied by cattle and sheep. My most worthy friend, Mr. Charles Campbell, and my companion Mr. John Browne, and his brother, both occupy the most distant stations to the north. Mr. Campbell has one of the finest cattle runs in the province, and my comrade, I believe, is perfectly satisfied with his run. The condition of their cattle and sheep would at all events lead to the conclusion, that neither suffer from the nature of the water they drink or the pasture on which they feed.

As regards the general appearance of the wooded portion of the province, I would remark, that excepting on the tops of the ranges where the stringy-bark grows; in the pine forests, and where there are belts of scrub on barren or sandy ground, its character is that of open forest without the slightest undergrowth save grass. The trees are more or less numerous according to the locality, as well as more or less umbrageous, a character they generally have on river flats, but the habit of the eucalyptus is, generally speaking, straggling in its branches. In many places the trees are so sparingly, and I had almost said judiciously distributed as to resemble the park lands attached to a gentleman's residence in England, and it only wants the edifice to complete the comparison.

The proportion of good to bad land in the province has generally been considered as divisible into three parts; that is to say, land entirely unavailable--land adapted for pastoral purposes only, and land of a superior quality. On due consideration, I am afraid this is not a correct estimate, but that unavailable country greatly preponderates over the other two. If, in truth, keeping the distant interior entirely out of view, and confining our observations to those portions of the colony into which the settlers have pushed in search for runs, we look to the great extent of unavailable country between the Murray and the Mount Gambier district, along the line of the Murray belt, and the extensive tracts at the head of the Gulfs, we shall find that South Australia, from the very nature of its formation, has an undue proportion of waste land. Those parts, however, which I have mentioned as being unavailable, were once covered by the sea, and could hardly be expected to be other than we now see them, and it may, therefore, be questioned how far they ought to be put into the scale. In this view of the matter, and taking the hilly country only into account, the proportion of unavailable and of pastoral land may be nearly equal; but that of the better description will still, I think, fall short of the other two. Taking South Australia in its length and breadth, the quantity of available land is, beyond doubt, very limited, but I regard it as exceedingly good, and believe that its capabilities have by no means been ascertained. I feel satisfied, indeed, that necessity will prove, not only, that the present pastoral districts are capable of maintaining a much greater number of stock upon them than they have hitherto borne, but that the province is also capable of bearing a very great amount of population; that it is peculiarly fitted for a rural peasantry, and that its agricultural products will be sufficient to support masses of the population employed either in its mining or manufactures. In this view of the subject it would appear that Providence has adapted the land to meet its new destinies, and that nothing we can say, either in praise or censure of its natural capabilities, will have the effect of concealing either the one or the other, as time shall glide on.

On the better soils the average crop of wheat is rather over than under twenty-five bushels to the acre. In many localities, and more especially when the ground is first cropped, it exceeds forty; and on some lands, once my own, in the Reed Beds, at the termination of the Torrens' river, five acres, which I sold to Mr. Sparshott, averaged fifty-two bushels to the acre. The Reed Beds may be said to be on the plains of Adelaide, and their very nature will account to the reader for the richness of their soil; but the soil of the plains is not generally good, excepting in such places where torrents descending from the hills have spread over portions, and covered them with an alluvial deposit to a greater or less depth. The average crop of wheat on the plains does not exceed twelve or fifteen bushels to the acre, and depends on the time when the hot winds may set in. Barley on the light sandy soil of the plains is much heavier than wheat.

In the description I have thus endeavoured to give of South Australia, I have omitted any mention of the district of Port Lincoln, chiefly because sufficient was not known of it when I sailed for England to justify my hazarding any remark. Recent advices from the colony state that a practicable line of route from Adelaide has been discovered along the western shore of Spencer's Gulf, and therefore, the disasters that overtook early explorers in that quarter, are not likely again to occur. It is farther said, that the number of sheep now depastured on the lands behind Port Lincoln, amounts to 70,000--a proof of the utility, if not the richness of the country--as far, however, as I am aware, the soil must be considered of an inferior description--in other respects, the Port has advantages that will always render it an agreeable, if not altogether a desirable residence. It appears to be gradually improving, but the amount of its population is still low, not more than sixty. It is frequented by American and other whalers, but the duties collected add little to the revenues of the province. Port Lincoln, however, could hardly now be abandoned, since there are considerable interests at stake there. It has been stated that copper has been found in the interior, and I see no reason why it should not exist in the mountain formation of the Gawler Range, in such case an impulse will be given to the whole district, that would even change its prospects, and increase the mercantile operations of the province.

It does not appear to be the disposition of the English settlers to try experiments on the growth of intertropical productions. It must be admitted, however, that there are not many places in South Australia where they could be cultivated with advantage; for although both the plains of Adelaide and the valley of the Murray are warm in summer, the frosts, which are sufficient to blight potatoes, would necessarily injure, if they did not destroy, perennials, whilst in the hills the cold is adverse to any plants the growth of a tropical climate, if we except those which, as annuals, come to maturity in the course of a summer; but the true reason why the growth of extraneous productions is neglected in South Australia, is the expense consequent on the state of the labour market--for no doubt many pursuits might be followed there that would be remunerative. It is exceedingly difficult, however, to lead the pursuits of a community out of their ordinary course, and it is only where direct advantages are to be gained, that the spirit of enterprise and speculation breaks forth.

The climate of South Australia is admirably adapted for the growth of fruit trees of the hardier tropical kinds, for although the tenderer kinds grow there also, they do not arrive at perfection. The loquat, the guava, the orange, and the banana, are of slow growth, but the vine, the fig, the pomegranate, and others, flourish beyond description, as do English fruit trees of every kind. It is to be observed, that the climate of the plains of Adelaide and that of the hills are distinct. I have been in considerable heat in the former at noon, and on the hills have been in frost in the evening. The forest trees of Europe will grow in the ranges, but on the plains they languish; in the ranges also the gooseberry and the currant bear well, but in the gardens on the plains they are admitted only to say you have such fruits; the pomegranate will not mature in the open air, but melons of all kinds are weeds. Yet, such trees as are congenial to the climate arrive at maturity with incredible rapidity, and bear in the greatest abundance. The show of grapes in Mr. Stephenson's garden in North Adelaide, and the show of apples and plums in Mr. Anstey's garden on the hills are fine beyond description, and could not be surpassed in any part of the world--it may readily be imagined, therefore, that the intermediate fruit trees, such as the peach, the nectarine, the pear, the cherry, the greengage, and others, are of the most vigorous habits. All of them, indeed, are standards, and the wood they make during one season, is the best proof that can be given of their congeniality to the soil and climate of the province.

There are in South Australia two periods of the year which are equally deceptive to the stranger. The one is when the country is burnt up and suffering under the effects of summer heat--when the earth is almost herbless, and the ground swarms with grasshoppers--when a dry heat prevails in a calm still air. The other when vegetation is springing up under the early rains and every thing is green. Arriving at Adelaide during the first period, the stranger would hardly believe that the country, at any other season of the year, would be so clothed with herbage and look so fresh; arriving at the other, he would equally doubt the possibility of the vegetable kingdom being laid so completely prostrate, or that the country could assume so withered and parched an appearance; but these changes are common to every country under a similar latitude, and it would be unjust to set them down to its prejudice, or advantage.

The following mean of heat at 2 p.m. throughout the year, will give the reader a correct idea of the range of the thermometer. I have taken 2 p.m. as being the hottest period of the day, and, therefore, nearest the truth.

January 85 106 1/2 70 February 79 94 71 March 77 103 1/2 68 1/2 April 67 1/2 85 55 1/2 May 62 76 53 June 58 67 49 July 55 60 49 August 59 68 52 September 61 72 1/2 55 1/2 October 68 1/2 94 1/2 55 November 74 94 59 December 83 100 68

The west and south-west winds are the most prevalent, blowing for 130 or 140 days in the year. During the summer months the land and sea breezes prevail along the coast, but in the interior the wind generally commences at E.N.E., and going round with the sun settles at west in the afternoon.

I need not point out to the reader, that the above table only shews the mean of the thermometer during a certain hour of the day; the temperature during the night must necessarily be much lower; the coolness of the night, indeed, generally speaking, makes up for the mid-day heat. There are some days of the year when hot winds prevails, which are certainly very disagreeable, if not trying. Their occurrence, however, is not frequent, and will be easily accounted for from natural causes. They sometimes continue for three or more days, during which time clouds of dust fill the air, and whirlwinds cross the plains, but the dryness of the Australian atmosphere considerably influences the feelings on such occasions, and certainly produces a different effect upon the system from that which would be produced at a much lower temperature in a more humid climate; for, no doubt, it is to the united effects of heat and moisture, where they more or less exist, that the healthiness or unhealthiness of a country may be ascribed. In such countries, generally speaking, either teaming vapours, or malaria from dense woods or swamps naturally tries the constitution, but to its extreme dryness, and the absence of all vegetable decay, it appears to me that the general salubrity of South-east Australia is to be attributed. So rarified, indeed, is the atmosphere, that it causes an elasticity of spirits unknown in a heavier temperature. So the hot winds, of which I have been speaking, are not felt in the degree we should be led to suppose. Like the air the spirits are buoyant and light, and it is for its disagreeableness at the time, not any after effects that a hot wind is to be dreaded. It is hot, and that is all you can say; you have a reluctance to move, and may not rest so well as usual; but the spirits are in no way affected; nor indeed, in the ordinary transactions of business does a hot wind make the slightest difference. If there are three or four months of warm weather, there are eight or nine months of the year, during which the weather is splendid. Nothing can exceed the autumn, winter, and spring of that transparent region, where the firmament is as bright as it would appear from the summit of Mount Blanc. In the middle of winter you enjoy a fire, the evenings are cold, and occasionally the nights are frosty. It is then necessary to put on warmer clothing, and a good surtout, buttoned across the breast, is neither an uncomfortable nor unimportant addition. Having said thus much of the general salubrity of the climate of South Australia, I would observe, in reference to what may be said against it, that the changes of temperature are sudden and unexpected, the thermometer rising or falling 50 degrees in an hour or two. Whether it is owing to the properties I have ascribed, that the climate of this place as also of Sydney should be fatal to consumptive habits, I do not know, but in both places I have understood that such is the case, and in both I have had reason to regret instances. It has been said that influenza prevailed last year in Adelaide to a great extent, and that it carried off a great many children and elderly persons. An epidemic, similar in its symptoms, may have prevailed there, and been severe in its progress, but it hardly seems probable that the epidemic of this country should have been conveyed through constant change of air, the best cure for such a disease, to so distant a part of the world. With all its salubrity, indeed, I believe it may be said, that South Australia is subject to the more unimportant maladies like other countries, but that there are no indigenous disorders of a dangerous kind, and that it is a country which may strictly be called one of the healthiest in the world, and will, in all probability, continue so, as long as it shall be kept clear of European diseases.

Having thus endeavoured to give a description of the general character and climate of this limited but certainly beautiful portion of the Australian continent, without encumbering my description with any remark on the principal and particular sources of wealth it possesses, which not being usual, could not, or rather would not, have been considered applicable. I hope the object I have had in view will be sufficiently clear to the reader. I have endeavoured to point out with an impartial pen, the real capabilities of the province, and the nature of those productions which are most congenial to her soil. Without undue praise on the one hand, or unjust depreciation on the other, it has been my desire to present a faithful picture of her to my readers, and I hope it will appear from what I have said, as is really and truly the case, that both in climate and other respects it is a country peculiarly adapted to the pursuits and habits of my countrymen. That its climate so far approaches that of England, as to be subject to light and partial frosts, which render it unfit for the cultivation of tropical productions, but make it essentially an agricultural country, capable of yielding as fine cereal grain as any country in the world, of whatever kind it may be--that at the same time the greater mildness of the climate makes it favourable to the growth of a variety of fruits and vegetables, independently of European fruit trees and culinary herbs, which put it in the power of the settler to secure the enjoyment of greater luxuries and comforts, than he could possibly expect to have done in his own country, except at a great expense, and that as far as the two great desiderata go, on which I have been dwelling, it is a country to which an Englishman may migrate with the most cheerful anticipations.