EXCURSION TO DELORAINE.—THE CHUDLEIGH CAVES.—FROM LAUNCESTON TO HOBART.—ACROSS THE MOUNTAINS.—THE OLD WAGON-ROAD BUILT BY CONVICTS.—DEATH OF THE LAST TASMANIAN.—HOW THE ABORIGINES WERE DESTROYED.—A WONDERFUL TIN-MINE.—HOBART: ITS CLIMATE AND ATTRACTIONS.—LOVELINESS OF TASMANIAN LADIES.—PORT ARTHUR.—DOGS AT THE NECK.—FROM HOBART TO ADELAIDE.—ARRIVAL IN SOUTH AUSTRALIA.—ADELAIDE: ITS PRINCIPAL FEATURES.—A RIVER THAT IS NOT A RIVER.—CHURCHES AND RELIGIONS.—POPULATION OF THE CAPITAL AND COLONY.—EXTENSIVE WHEAT-FARMS.—PRODUCTS OF SOUTH AUSTRALIA.—FRUIT-GROWING.—GLENELG.—THE HISTORIC GUM-TREE.—PARKS AND GARDENS.—OVERLAND TO PORT DARWIN.—HOW THE TELEGRAPH WAS BUILT.—EXPLORATIONS OF STURT AND STUART.—CAMELS IN AUSTRALIA.—A SIDE-SADDLE CAMEL.—AN AFFECTING INCIDENT.—THE OVERLAND RAILWAY.

"The forenoon of our second day in Tasmania," said Frank, "was devoted to an excursion on the Launceston and Formby Railway as far as Deloraine. We left Launceston at eight o'clock in the morning, reached Deloraine, forty-five miles, at a quarter past ten, had an hour and three-quarters in and around the place, and started at noon on our return. They urged us to stay longer, and see more; and some of the acquaintances we had made seemed much disappointed that we declined to do so. The Tasmanians are as hospitable as their Australian neighbors, and do their utmost to make the stranger feel at home.

"They specially wished us to visit the Chudleigh Caves, which are about twenty miles from Deloraine, and are considered, by the Tasmanians at least, among the wonders of the world. We were told that we could walk five miles underground, and see the entire caves in about four hours; that the mud and water would nowhere be more than three feet deep, and there were many places in the caves where there was no mud at all. No doubt the caves are remarkable; but as we had seen the Mammoth and Luray Caves, we did not specially care for those of Chudleigh, much to the disappointment of the gentleman who urged us to see them.

"The railway between Launceston and Deloraine passes through a fertile country in which there are many fine farms, and a goodly number of pastoral stations devoted to the rearing of high-class sheep which are exported to Australia to improve the flocks of that country. The train rolled through glades and over plains, along the sides of mountains and across rippling streams, and as we approached Deloraine the conductor called our attention to a bold spur of a mountain called Quamby Bluff, which is the end of a long range that filled the horizon.

"On our return to Launceston we were just in time to catch the 3 p.m. train for Hobart, which we reached at eight o'clock in the evening. The Launceston and Western Railway is of broad gauge, but the line to Hobart is a narrow one (three feet six inches), on account of the heavy work in the mountains through which its route is laid. As long as the daylight lasted we had a beautiful panorama, the scene changing at every turn of the sinuous track. Occasionally we had glimpses of the old carriage-road built by the convicts, and were impressed with its solidity and the thoroughness of the work of which it is evidence. It is said that the road cost more than a railway would at present; and I have no doubt, after seeing it, that this was the case.

"We asked if any aboriginals could be seen along the route, and were told that the last Tasmanian aboriginal, Truganini, or Lalla Rookh, died in 1876, and the last Tasmanian man in 1869. When the island was first occupied by the English, there were four or five thousand natives upon it; there was incessant war between them and the whites until 1832, when the greater number of the blacks had been killed, only a few hundreds remaining. In 1854 there were only sixteen of them alive, and these gradually died off.

"It is said that when the English landed in Tasmania they mistook the friendly signs of the natives for hostile ones, and the mistake led the commanding officer to order his men to fire on the group that had assembled on the beach. Fifty natives were killed on this occasion, and thus a needless war was begun.

"Of course we have been invited to visit gold-mines and other places where valuable minerals are found; they tell us that Tasmania contains the most valuable tin-mine in the world, its annual yield being worth nearly a million dollars. It was discovered in 1872 by a man who was regarded by his neighbors as more than half a lunatic. For years he sought for tin among the mountains, suffering all sorts of hardships and privations; and when at last he found the desired deposit, his assertion that he had done so was not believed. He was nicknamed 'Philosopher Smith,' and had great difficulty in securing attention to his discovery and raising the necessary capital for working the mine. Like most discoverers, he did not reap the reward for what he found, as he was compelled to sell his shares in the mine while they were at a very low price. A share originally costing thirty shillings was worth £80 a few years later.

"A few miles before reaching Hobart we came to the banks of the Derwent, the river on which the capital stands. It is a beautiful stream flowing down from the interior mountains, and its valley is said to be exceedingly picturesque. Hobart justified the description which our friend at Launceston gave us; it stands on seven hills, with a larger hill, called Knocklofty, behind it; and behind this hill again is Mount Wellington, 4166 feet high. The harbor is deep and capacious, and the navigation is so easy that ships often come in without pilots.

"Until 1881 this place was called Hobart Town, or Hobarton; in that year the name was officially changed to Hobart.

"The day after our arrival we climbed to the top of Mount Wellington, and were well repaid for the fatigue of the ascent by the magnificent view it afforded. It was landscape and seascape together, and both extensive and picturesque. Water and land were spread below us as on a map, and we looked away towards the Southern Pole, and wondered what would be encountered if we journeyed in that direction.

"Hobart is a famous resort of Australians, who come here to escape the heat of summer. Its climate is delightful, and if all that the inhabitants claim is true, the Australians who come here have no reason to complain. Doctor Bronson says he has been told that the ladies of Tasmania are so charming that the friends of an Australian bachelor tremble for him whenever he decides to spend the summer at Hobart. But the Doctor says the friends of a Tasmanian bachelor might be equally fearful when the latter goes to Melbourne or Sydney for an extended visit.

"New York boasts of its Franklin Square, where the Harpers have their great publishing house. Hobart has its Franklin Square, which is a pretty garden in memory of Sir John Franklin, who was governor here at one time; in the centre of the garden is a bronze statue of the renowned navigator. There are other gardens and parks; there are the Royal Society's grounds and the Queen's Domain, which are much frequented; and there is a splendid cricket-ground, where games are played very often. We have witnessed a rowing match between the Hobart and the Mercantile rowing clubs, and are told that there is a grand regatta here every year that brings many visitors from Melbourne, Sydney, Adelaide, and other cities. Altogether, Hobart impresses us most agreeably, and the inhabitants are justly proud of it."

The stay of the party in Tasmania was somewhat shortened by reason of their haste to reach South Australia. They made a brief visit to Port Arthur, which is about three hours distant from Hobart by steamer, and lies in a landlocked bay enclosed between rugged hills, which completely shelter it from the wind. Here are the prisons where thousands of convicts were once confined under the most rigorous discipline, the least infraction of the rules being punished with the lash, and serious ones by death through hanging.

The story is that the latter punishment was so frequent that the jail chaplain at Hobart once made a protest, not against hanging in general or the number of men hanged, but at the pressure upon their facilities. He said that no more than thirteen men could be comfortably executed at once, and the crowding had been too great; he trusted that for the future the accommodations of the jail might not be overtaxed.

Our friends saw the prisons at Port Arthur, but the prisoners have been gone since 1876. The massive buildings remain without tenants, and are going to decay as fast as solid stone structures can go. Frank and Fred were specially interested in "The Neck," the narrow isthmus which connects the main-land with the peninsula, where the prisons stand. Across The Neck savage dogs were formerly chained at such close intervals that a man could not pass between them; the isthmus is not more than a hundred feet in width, and as there were fifteen dogs kept there, a man had no chance of passing them. If he attempted to swim around them at night, the dogs were expected to give warning by barking; and the waters are so infested with sharks that a person swimming has little chance of getting away with his life.

The dogs were also used for hunting down the few prisoners who managed to get past the line. The number of escapes was very small; but in spite of all precautions, escapes did occur. The most notable instance is that of three men, Martin Cash, Jones, and Cavanagh, who swam across the bay one night, reached a farm-house in the early morning, and there provided themselves with weapons and ammunition before their escape was discovered. Thus equipped for highway robbery and defence, they remained free for years, but were taken and hanged at last. Convicts at Port Arthur and other Tasmanian prisons were known as "yellow-birds," on account of the yellow uniform they wore.

"Rather suddenly," said Fred, "we left Hobart one day for South Australia, as we found that if we waited for the next steamer we should be detained longer than we cared to be in Tasmania. Three days carried us to our destination at Port Adelaide, where we again set foot on the Australian continent.

"We passed up the Gulf of St. Vincent, and entered Port Adelaide between two large shoals of sand which are marked by light-houses. The captain of the steamer told us that the port was formerly difficult of entrance and quite shallow, but it has been deepened within the past few years, and the channels have been widened, so that it is now accessible for very large ships. As its name implies, it is the port of Adelaide, the capital of South Australia, seven miles away, and easily accessible by a double-track railway.

"We landed at a long and handsome pier, and had time to observe, before leaving for the city, that a great deal of money has been expended in dock and pier facilities, and in making the harbor a suitable one for an ambitious colony. There are immense sheds for the storage of wool and grain, there are graving docks and repair shops, manufactories of several kinds, two or three hospitals, a home for sailors, churches, schools, public buildings of the usual kinds found at a well-arranged seaport, and hotels and restaurants sufficient for the entertainment of all who are likely to remain long enough to require them.

"The railway carried us to Adelaide in about twenty minutes, and we found ourselves in a city whose regularity reminded us of Philadelphia or Chicago. It was founded in 1837 by Colonel Light, who named it after the queen of William IV.; it originally contained one thousand and forty-two allotments of one acre each, and is built nearly in the form of a square, with the streets at right angles. The ground is almost a level plain, and the situation is about five miles from the Mount Lofty range of hills, whose highest point is two thousand three hundred feet above the sea-level.

"The streets of Adelaide are wide and generally handsome; the show one of all is King William Street, which runs from south to north and bisects the city. We drove along this street, and were all agreed that we would have to travel very far to find a handsomer avenue in a city no older than this. We passed the Government Offices, which is an extensive pile of buildings forming a solid block, and covering a large area. Close by the Government Buildings is the Town-hall, which is conspicuous for its high tower, and on the other side of the street is the Post-office, which accommodates both the post-office and the telegraph, and will do so until Adelaide is more than twice its present size. The white freestone of which the Town-hall and Post-office are built is said to have come from some extensive quarries near the city.

"In addition to the public edifices, King William Street contains banks, newspaper offices, and other private buildings that would be a credit to any city of Europe or America. As for churches, I don't know how many we have seen in our drive through the principal streets; they give the impression that Adelaide is a very religious city, and that her wealthy people have been very liberal in providing places of worship. All the prominent religions are represented, the Church of England taking the lead, as in the other colonies.

"At the last census of South Australia the Church of England had 76,000 adherents, Roman Catholics numbered 43,000, Methodists 42,000, Lutherans 20,000, Presbyterians 18,000, Baptists 14,000, and Congregationalists, Bible Christians, and Primitive Methodists about 10,000 each. No State aid is given to any of the churches, all of them being supported by voluntary contributions. There are nearly a thousand churches and chapels in the colony, exclusive of four hundred other buildings which are occasionally used for religious worship.

"We asked the driver of our carriage to show us some of the finest private residences; he did so, and we certainly commend the good taste of the leading citizens in their architecture. Our drive extended to North Adelaide, which is to 'the city' what South Melbourne is to Melbourne, being principally a place for residence. The river Torrens separates Adelaide from its northern suburb; we crossed it on one of three handsome bridges, and found it less worthy of the name of river than is the Yarra at Melbourne, its bed being little more than a dry waste of sand. Ten months in the year this is said to be its condition; for the other two months it is an impetuous flood.

"The river isn't as bad as it was, as a dam has been thrown across it near the jail, and the water held by it forms a narrow lake about two miles long, which furnishes a floating-place for steam-launches and row-boats in great number. We took a sail on one of the launches, and enjoyed it very much; the lake reminded us in some respects of the Ausser Alster at Hamburg, and seems to be much appreciated by the citizens. The water supply of the city comes from the Torrens; it is drawn into reservoirs a few miles above the city, and brought thence through covered mains into the city limits.

"The population of the city itself is about 50,000, and there are said to be 130,000 people living within a radius of ten miles from the Town-hall. The population of the whole territory of South Australia is not far from 350,000, including about 5000 aboriginals. The area of the colony, including the Northern Territory, is estimated at 903,690 square[Pg 507]
[Pg 508] miles; it covers twenty-seven degrees of latitude and twelve of longitude, and is more than fifteen times as large as England and Wales combined. Its greatest length is 1850 miles, and its greatest width 650 miles.

"We delivered some letters of introduction, and were hospitably received, our entertainers doing their best to give us a good opinion of the city and colony. One of them told us that Adelaide had been called the 'City of Churches,' on account of the number and beauty of its religious edifices; and also the 'Farinaceous City,' owing to its great shipments of wheat and flour. South Australia is largely devoted to wheat culture, and some of the farms will rival the great wheat-farms of the North-western States of America. They have all the improved machinery for raising wheat on a grand scale, and their owners are liberal buyers of American ploughs, mowers, reapers, and other apparatus intended for economy of labor in producing the 'staff of life.'

"We visited one of these large wheat-farms, and were greatly impressed with what we saw there. It employs ordinarily about seventy hands, and in the busy season the number often exceeds two hundred. Everything is reduced to a system, and the manager is autocratic in his power; there is a set of printed rules to govern the conduct of the men, and they are required to sign them when engaged. All hands are called when a bell rings at 5 a.m.; horses are cleaned and fed before 6 a.m., when breakfast is served; the teams are in the field by seven o'clock; an hour is allowed at noon for dinner, and then work continues till 6 p.m. in summer and 5 p.m. in winter. Supper is served at seven; horses are fed and watered at half-past eight, and the dining-room is cleared and locked up at ten o'clock.

"First-class hands receive twenty shillings (five dollars) weekly, second-class eighteen shillings, and third-class sixteen shillings. Any one in charge of horses who abuses them, or neglects to feed and care for them properly, is discharged at once, and forfeits all wages due him. Varying penalties are affixed for other offences, and the inducement is held out that any laborer can raise himself to a first-class position by good and industrious conduct.

"The product of wheat in the colony varies in different seasons; in 1884-85 it was nearly fifteen million bushels, but since then it has been much less, owing to severe droughts. There are nearly seven millions of sheep in South Australia, and the wool crop is the next in importance to the bread-stuffs. The colony produces great quantities of grapes, and the export of wine is steadily increasing. Grapes, peaches, apricots, oranges, and kindred fruits grow with very little attention, and in their season they are retailed in the market of Adelaide at a penny a pound; so that all tables are liberally supplied with them. We have eaten some very fine fruit since we came here, but the people tell us we are not in the time of year to see the orchards at their best.

"There are several pretty watering-places within a few miles of Adelaide, where the people go in summer to enjoy the cool breezes from the southern seas. One of the favorite spots of this sort is Glenelg, which is only a few miles distant, and easily reached by railway. We went there one afternoon, partly to see what it was like and partly because it is where the colony was founded. On the 28th of December, 1836, Captain Hindmarsh landed there, and in the presence of a few officials and some two hundred immigrants, who had been sent out from London, read his commission as the first governor of South Australia, and proclaimed the foundation of the colony.

"The ceremony took place under a venerable gum-tree, or Eucalyptus, which is known as "Proclamation Tree." We saw the tree, but it has fallen and is greatly decayed, and were it not for the board affixed to it, telling that on this spot the colony was founded, no one would consider it of any importance. The anniversary of this event is celebrated as a public holiday. All business is suspended on that day, and Glenelg is crowded with people who come to look at the Proclamation Tree, and enjoy the cool breeze that blows from the ocean.

"The long pier jutting into the bay at Glenelg is a favorite resort on pleasant evenings, and our experience there reminded us of an evening at Coney Island or Long Branch. The Orient and P.&O. steamers stop at Glenelg to land and receive the South Australian mails. The anchorage is somewhat exposed to heavy winds, and occasionally there is considerable delay in landing or embarking.

"The Adelaideans are very proud of their parks and gardens, and with good reason. They certainly compare well with those of Sydney[Pg 511]
[Pg 512] and Melbourne, and that is saying that they are very fine indeed. All around the city there are reserved lands which vary in width but will average not far from half a mile. They are intended for parks for the public, and are planted with shade-trees and laid out into walks and drives. As the city grows they will be in the midst of houses, and not at such distances that a special journey will be required to reach them.

"Then they have squares of several acres in each quarter of the city, beautifully laid out and planted with shade-trees, and they have the Botanic Garden, of about forty acres, containing among other things several fern-houses, shade-houses, a Victoria Regia house, and a large and handsome palm-house, in which tropical plants are sheltered. We went repeatedly through the Botanic Garden, and constantly found something to interest us. A few years ago a Museum of Economic Botany was erected, and since it was opened to the public it has done much practical good. Plants are distributed to those who desire them, and many valuable or beautiful exotics have thus been acclimatized in Australia."

As usual, Frank and Fred studied the map of the country, and considered its capabilities in the way of travel. Frank thought it would be the best kind of fun to cross the continent from south to north, following the line of the overland telegraph from Adelaide to Port Darwin. Fred was of the same opinion, but suggested that before broaching the subject to the Doctor they should learn something about the route.

With this object in view they made inquiries, the replies to which quite discouraged their enterprise. What they learned can best be given in the words of their informant, a gentleman connected with the telegraph service.

"I have been over the whole line from Adelaide to Port Darwin," said he, "and will briefly tell you about it. The distance is about seventeen hundred miles, and more than half of it is uninhabited by white men, except at the telegraph stations. Some of it can never be occupied, as it is absolutely waterless; but in course of time, and with improved means of obtaining or storing water, the greater part can be made inhabitable.

"The first white man to cross the continent was John McDouall Stuart. Don't confound his name with that of Captain Sturt, a thing that's very likely to happen, as they were intimately associated."

"Won't you kindly tell us a little about Captain Sturt?" asked one of the youths. "We've heard his name frequently as that of one of Australia's heroes."

"Certainly," was the reply. "Captain Charles Sturt was sent out by the Sydney Government to make an exploration beyond the Blue Mountains in the direction of the interior of the continent. Between 1827 and 1830 he made two expeditions, in which he discovered the Darling and Murray rivers; on the second expedition he descended those streams in a whale-boat which he had taken along for the purpose of navigating any rivers or lakes into which the smaller streams already discovered took their course. The Macquarie, the Lachlan, and the Murrumbidgee flow westward from the Dividing Range, but their outlets were then unknown.

"On his voyage down the Murray to the sea Sturt had several fights with the natives, underwent many hardships and accidents, and found his men greatly reduced in strength. There he was obliged to turn back and propel his boat against the stream to the point whence it started.

"It was a toilsome journey. The natives opposed the explorers, and they fought their way from place to place, and it was only by the superiority of their fire-arms over the primitive weapons of the blacks that they escaped with their lives. For fifteen hundred miles they travelled in this way, and when they reached their old camp, on the twenty-seventh day of their upward voyage, Sturt was hardly able to stand. Provisions were exhausted, and when aid reached them they were at the point of starvation.

"In 1843, this same Captain Sturt offered to lead an expedition from South Australia to the interior of the continent; his offer was accepted, and in 1844 the expedition started on its way. Unfortunately summer was approaching, and the party was destined to suffer terribly from heat and thirst. For six months it was encamped in one spot, unable to move; there was little or no water in the country, and four months passed without a drop of rain or even of dew. Sturt reported that the heat drew every screw and nail in their boxes; the horn handles of their instruments, as well as their combs, were split into fine laminÆ; the lead dropped out of their pencils; their signal-rockets were entirely spoiled; their hair, as well as the wool of their sheep, ceased to grow; and their nails became as brittle as glass. Their flour lost more than eight per cent. of its original weight, and other provisions in greater proportion. The mean of the thermometer during December, January, and February was 101°, 104°, and 101° respectively in the shade, and in the sun it sometimes reached 160°.

"Sturt did everything that lay within human power to reach the centre of the continent, but was unable to get nearer than within one hundred and fifty miles of it. Some of his men died, and he turned back when at a point where it was absolutely certain that no water lay beyond.

"His draughtsman on that expedition was John McDouall Stuart, the man who was the first to cross the continent from south to north, and whom I asked you not to confound with Captain Sturt. Stuart tried three times before he succeeded; at last, on July 10, 1862, he reached the sea, at the mouth of the Adelaide River, in Van Dieman's Gulf, on the north coast.

"Very soon after the result of Stuart's expedition became known, it was proposed to build a telegraph line across the continent, following Stuart's track, to meet the cable from Singapore to Port Darwin, and thus connect the colonies with the rest of the telegraphic world. The work was planned and completed by Mr. Charles Todd, superintendent of telegraphs, and was begun in 1870. On August 22, 1872, the first message was sent over the completed line, and congratulations were exchanged between London and Adelaide."

"Didn't the blacks give you a great deal of trouble?" Frank asked.

"Less than was feared," was the reply. "We managed to give them a wholesome dread of the 'white fellow's devil,' as they called it, and though they have raided the stations on several occasions and killed the officers, they have never disturbed the wires. While we were building the line we gave every native who visited us an electric shock, and it seriously affected their nerves, and also their imaginations. Once we had two of the most important chiefs at points more than a hundred miles apart; we carried on conversations for them for two or three hours, and then had them meet half way between the stations and compare notes. To say they were awe-struck would be expressing it mildly; they were fairly paralyzed with astonishment."

"How far apart are the stations?"

"The distances vary according to water and other conditions. Some of the stations are more than a hundred miles from their neighbors on either side, and at every station there are two operators and four line-repairers. When a break occurs a repair party starts from the station on each side, and travels along the line, testing it every twenty or thirty miles until the fault has been found and communication restored. Then the parties return to their own stations, generally without seeing each other."

"How do you carry supplies through this desert?" inquired Fred.

"We use camels, which were first introduced from Afghanistan by Sir Thomas Elder, and have been found admirably adapted to the arid regions of Australia. A camel-breeding establishment has been in existence at Beltana for nearly twenty years, and more than a thousand camels have been supplied from it for hauling stores and doing other work that is usually performed by oxen or horses. They are broken to harness or the saddle; they draw drays or light pleasure-wagons, singly, and teams of six or eight camels are harnessed to heavy wagons, which they easily pull through the sand together with a load of two or three tons. The belle of Beltana, the daughter of the superintendent of the station, has a camel which she rides with a side-saddle just as a belle of New York rides her favorite saddle-horse. All the later exploring expeditions have been equipped with camels, and it was for exploration that these animals were first brought here.

"About three years after the line was opened, the men at the Barrow Creek station, a thousand miles from Adelaide, were attacked by the blacks. A line-repairer and an operator, Mr. Stapleton, were mortally wounded, and two others seriously. As Mr. Stapleton lay dying, the news was flashed to Adelaide by the other operator. The doctor and Mrs. Stapleton were summoned to a room in the Adelaide office, where they listened to the click of the instrument, which told how the husband's life was ebbing away in the far distant desert.

"An instrument was brought to his bedside and placed under his hand. He received the doctor's message that his wound was fatal, received the farewell of his wife, then telegraphed her an eternal good-by, and as he finished it his fingers clutched the key, and in a moment he lay dead. I was one of the group that stood in the Adelaide office that day, and you can easily believe that the scene moved everybody to tears."

The youths easily did believe it, for their own eyes were moist as they heard the sad story. The gentleman paused for one, two, in fact for several minutes, with his head turned away, and then resumed:

"The success of the telegraph has emboldened us, and we are now building a railway along the same line, and hope to have it done within the next ten years. Four hundred miles are completed northward from Adelaide, and on the other side of the continent half that distance is in the hands of contractors. Camels are employed to carry supplies, material, and water to the men in advance of the end of the track, and the work is being pushed forward very much as your builders in America constructed the Central and Union Pacific railways across the great plains east of the Rocky Mountains, and between those mountains and the Sierra Nevada range."

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