LECTURE IVVICTORIA AND TASMANIA

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We have already seen that most of the chief towns of Queensland lie on or near the coast, and that there are many harbours, often protected by islands. The towns are there because the country was developed for the most part from the sea, and in fact settlement inland is still confined to the neighbourhood of the railways running up-country from these coast towns. The harbours are there because the land has sunk and the coast is partly drowned, giving deep sea-inlets, often where the sea has flooded some old river valley. As the coast gradually sank, the coral builders were at work, piling up their reefs in the warm shallows. So we get the Great Barrier Reef, stretching for fifteen59hundred miles along the coast and leaving a calm though rather dangerous channel between itself and the mainland. The reef is really a series of reefs, resting on a platform of older rock, and pierced with numerous openings, especially where the larger rivers enter the sea; for the coral will not grow in fresh water. In the neighbourhood of this reef, especially in the north, towards Thursday Island, fishing for pearl oysters is largely carried on. The oysters are valuable for the mother of pearl, rather than for the pearls themselves, which are very small. Here, too, is found60in great quantity the trepang, or sea slug as it is sometimes called, looking like millions of brown cucumbers61crawling over the reef. Here is a portrait of one kind of the trepang; it does not seem very appetising, but the Chinese consider it a great delicacy. Nearly the whole of the trepang gathered in this region is exported to China, after being first cooked and dried. The rest is eaten by the natives, as it does not appeal to European tastes.

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

Following the example of the original settlers, we will approach Melbourne from the sea, as in this way we1shall perhaps get the clearest view of the peculiarities of the State of Victoria. From Sydney to Cape Howe, we are still following the coastal plain of New South Wales, with the plateau edge in the background. But when we round Cape Howe and turn westward the coast changes: a series of mountain ridges runs down to the sea, ending in promontories with fiord-like inlets between them. The eastern end of Victoria is occupied by an irregular mountain mass, trending on the whole north and south. West of the mouth of the Snowy River, the coast scenery changes again, and we have Ninety Mile Beach. Here long banks of sand, brought by the strong currents from the west, have silted up the mouth of an old river valley. The water is thus held up and spreads out into lagoons, which communicate2with the sea here and there through narrow channels. Further west still are isolated mountain ranges, one of which ends at Wilson Promontory, the southernmost point of the mainland of Australia. In the bight between this promontory and Cape Otway, lie Western Port and Port Phillip, wide bays with narrow entrances. Beyond Port Phillip the coast is fringed by the Otway ranges; and then follows a low plain, with few inlets or good harbours, a region of lakes and swamps. So we see three great irregular curves or bights, with great variety of coast-line; Port Phillip lies at the top of the middle curve. It3is a drowned valley, like the lagoons further east, and is almost blocked at the mouth by the drifting sands. It is the only good natural harbour on this part of the coast, and is still the centre of settlement and of the area of densest population.

Port Phillip.

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

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

Melbourne and Port Phillip have not the picturesque appearance of Port Jackson and Sydney; the broad, lagoon-like harbour does not lend itself to scenic effects, and we have not the deep-water inlets penetrating the heart of the city which add so much to the beauty and utility of Sydney. Melbourne is built on the level, with broad, straight streets and fine buildings, modern and handsome, a typical Australian city. Here are Collins4,5Street and Bourke Street. Here again are some of the Government offices; the statue in the foreground is6one of General Gordon.

Melbourne is a true city of the plains; we have already noticed that Port Phillip itself is merely partof a drowned plain. On either side of Melbourne, between the mountains on the north, which form a continuous wall from east to west of the State, and the broken ranges of the coast lies a great lowland, a series of plains dotted with marshes and detached hills. This is the Great Valley of Victoria. In the west it is largely covered with lavas, poured out from volcanoes now extinct. We can trace many of the old craters, especially in the district round Ballarat. Here is one7of them from the inside; notice the shape of the rocks. It is the lava and the river alluvium which have made the Great Valley the most fertile area of the whole State. Eastward the plain narrows for a space and then broadens out again in the valley of the Latrobe, behind the lagoons and the Ninety Mile Beach. The early settlers were quick to notice the fine grasses on these open plains; they started with sheep, but with the growth of communications dairy farming and butter making have increased greatly. Here we have a typical view on the plains, not far from the great Lake8Korangamite. It is open rolling country, and the building in the foreground is a large dairy. We may see the butter being brought in from a branch factory to the central collecting station, and can watch the latest methods of working it by machinery. We shall find the same scenery and the same industry all over this area.

Here is another typical scene: a string of draught9horses is being brought in for sale, and we can follow them back to their feeding ground on the rich grass of10the open country. Victoria, with a much smaller area, values her horses at about four-fifths of the total value of those of New South Wales. They are not raised only for farm purposes as the picture before us proves. It is a race meeting, and we might imagine ourselves11in England but for the strange shape of some of the carriages.

We have had a glimpse of one aspect of Victoria; the port, the city, and the plain. Now let us turn to the mountains. We have seen that the east end of the12State is almost filled up by a mass of highland, and we may notice that the railways only touch the outer fringe of this district. It is out of the world and thinly peopled, though much of it is well fitted for cattle. Westward the highland becomes narrower and sends out spurs on either side, leaving the Great Valley on the south, and on the north and north-west a broad plain sloping down to the Murray River. This corresponds somewhat to the slope west of the Divide in New South Wales, but the climate, as we shall see, is not the same.

As we leave Melbourne and follow the Yarra up-stream13we soon notice a change of scenery. At Warburton, the rail head, we are well within the highlands. The river runs through forests of eucalyptus and fern, and we notice rapids below the primitive bridge. It14is evidently a mountain stream. This district is one of the playgrounds of Melbourne, and we stumble on15the Christmas camp of the Boy Scouts, who are known in Australia as well as in our own part of the Empire.16A few miles away to the north is Healesville. We notice here, as we drive through, that there are some17trees which seem to have shed their leaves. Perhaps these are some English trees of which many have been imported, and they find the weather too dry and hot; for close by we find the native forest with trees in full leaf. In spite of the presence of English trees, we may easily recognise the country as Australia by the great gum trees, with their bare trunks, and the thorny acacia growing below. The gums and the18tree ferns are everywhere on the hillsides. Even the house and garden, which we see here, have a slightly19foreign look, and do not seem adapted for the conditions of an English winter. In fact, there is no winter, aswe understand it, in this part of Victoria, though snow may lie for months on the heights of the Alps to the north-east. We must remember that Melbourne lies in nearly the same latitude as Seville. In the hills to the north of Melbourne we find the same scenery, with its abundance of streams and trees. Here is a woodland scene not far from Mount Macedon in this district,20where the Governor of Victoria has his summer home.

Let us now travel westward by the railway to Ballarat, which lies on the south face of the narrow ridge which forms the water-parting between the Victorian Valley and the north-western plains. Ballarat is a fine town, second only to Melbourne, and planted in far more picturesque surroundings. Here is Sturt21Street, named after one of Australia’s greatest explorers; looking down it we can just see Mount Warrenheit in22the distance. We can wander in the Botanical Gardens where the aloe is in flower, or stroll by the lake and23admire the black swans. But we have not come here only for the scenery. Ballarat represents the second great factor in the development of Victoria: gold.

Within ten years of 1851, when gold was discovered here in paying quantities, all the chief fields of Victoria were opened up, and there was a sudden rush of settlers to the country. Many of the goldfields are so near Melbourne that it may be considered as a centre of mining as well as of pastoral industries. Thus we may account for the fact that it has to-day concentrated in its neighbourhood nearly half of the total population of the State. The gold most easily reached was in the underground leads, the channels of old streams, or fissures in the rock. In these were found nuggets and gold dust. Here we see the primitive methods of mining. A group of miners is sinking a simple shaft and raising24the soil in buckets, while another washes it in a pan to separate the heavier gold dust. The pick and shovel25and the strong arm of the miner are the chief instruments needed for this form of mining; and the fact that the goldfields are in the midst of fertile country, with farms all around them, makes the life much less hard than in some of the fields of the far interior of Australia which we shall visit later.

The modern method of mining is to attack the quartz rock by the aid of machinery; and the shafts are often carried to a great depth. Here, instead of the tents of the miners, we see what might be the top26of a coal mine, with elaborate machinery for winding. We shall examine this type of mine elsewhere; for though gold has made Victoria in the past, it is not now the chief gold-producing State in the Commonwealth. So we pass on, after a glance at a quartz reef27cropping out from the ground—a sign that has often guided the prospector in his search.

We have seen that as we travel eastward along the ridge on which we are standing, the forest grows more dense and settlement thinner, while roads and railways disappear. But the greatest change is found as we travel north and north-west from Ballarat. We have crossed to the inner slope of the highlands and are entering a very dry country. In the districts which we have visited the rainfall is not unlike that of the28Midlands of England, though most comes in the winter time from the westerly winds. The extreme east of the State has also, like Sydney, a good deal of rain in summer from the Pacific. But the great plain sloping to the Murray is cut off by the highlands from the moist winds of the oceans and exposed to dry hot winds sweeping down from the deserts of the interior. The rivers end in shallow lakes and marshes on the arid plain; and we may notice that the railways push out into this district and stop in similar fashion. It is a region of sandhills, heaths, and a dense scrub, calledmallee; dreary and desolate at first sight, butnot altogether without promise. The soil is very fertile, being composed of the old river silts, and with light rains at the right season, or by the aid of irrigation, it will grow fine crops. Here we see the beginning of the process of cultivation, by the rolling down of29themalleescrub.

With large areas of fertile land lying waste for want of water, and water in abundance in the rivers, we should expect that attempts would be made to bring the two together. In New South Wales, near Yass on the Murrumbidgee, a great scheme is in progress. The Barren Jack dam, when finished next year, will hold up and make available for agriculture, a mass of water comparable to that of the Nile at Assuan. It will preserve, for the dry season, the water from the winter rains and the melting snows of spring. Other schemes are proposed for the Lachlan and Murray; up to the present, however, the chief development of irrigation has been in Victoria, on the streams flowing into the Murray and on the main river itself. Here we see the process of impounding the water; notice the woods in the background30which show that we are on the upper course of the stream, near the hills and the region of heavier rainfall. Here again is a great reservoir being excavated,31to hold the flood water; and next we may see the water flowing out into the irrigation channel.32In another place the water is being pumped up into high-level tanks for distribution. The river has33gradually built up a flood plain at a higher level than its usual channel; so that the water must be raised before it will flow over the fields. At Mildura and Renmark, the latter in South Australia, a large fruit-growing industry has been developed on the basis of irrigation. So we find lemons and apricots, and above all the currant and the vine which give us our dried currants and raisins.

But the supply of water in the rivers is limited, forthe rivers are not broad or deep, in spite of their great length. One of the chief difficulties of all irrigation schemes is to avoid damage to the interests of people living lower down the stream, or interference with the navigation. In this matter the interests of all three States of the Commonwealth must be considered, since the Murray basin is divided among them. As we have already noticed in the case of Queensland and New South Wales, the State boundaries only coincide in part with natural features of the country.

The whole character of the river basin depends on the distribution of the rainfall. In the case of all three States there is a similar arrangement: first the coast belt, which is more varied and irregular in Queensland and Victoria than in New South Wales; then the highland edge, and then the back slope with a zone of moderate rainfall which shades off gradually into desert conditions. This zone narrows as we come southwards until it almost disappears in South Australia. But before following it out into this last State we will cross Bass Strait to visit Tasmania. Victoria, though a mere corner of the Australian continent, is about the size of Great Britain, while Tasmania is not very much smaller than Ireland, and both could support a very dense population. We must bear these facts in mind during our rapid journey through the country, since the maps in our atlases, for the most part, give us utterly wrong impressions as to the area of Australia.

If we look at a chart showing the depths of the sea,34we may notice that Bass Strait is shallow while the surrounding seas are deep. From Wilson Promontory we can trace a connexion through Flinders and Cape Barren Islands, to the north-east horn of the curved coast of Tasmania. A similar bridge runs through from the north-west horn, through the Hunter Islands and King Island. We may be reminded of the shallows of the English Channel and the North Sea, and caneasily imagine that Tasmania, like England, at some very remote period formed part of the neighbouring continental mainland. We find, moreover, a general similarity between the plants and animals on the opposite sides of the Strait; but there are also some marked differences which suggest that Tasmania was separated very long ago and so has had a peculiar and isolated development.

We cross Bass Strait and steam up the winding estuary of the Tamar to Launceston. The names35remind us of England, and round us are the counties of Devon, Dorset, and Cornwall; but we must not be too ready to take the names as a guide to the character of the country or the climate. Our vessel lands us at a busy wharf in the middle of the town, for Launceston, though second to Hobart in size, is the chief commercial centre for the island. Here is a general view36of the town: it is modern and well planned and has fine houses and gardens in the suburbs, like the other Australian capitals.

A glance at the country round soon shows us why the early settlers were reminded of the south-west37corner of England. At King’s Bridge we can leave the broad estuary of the Tamar and turn up the narrow valley of the Esk. Notice the fishermen: the streams here abound with fish, mostly introduced from England. The Esk here flows through a rocky38and wooded gorge; and we might easily imagine ourselves in Devon or Cornwall. Higher up the scenery is spoilt by an ugly building with great pipes; it is the39power station for the electric light of the town. The water power is too valuable to waste, so the picturesque has been sacrificed to the practical needs of the people.

Tasmania: Orographical.By permission of the Diagram Co.

As we leave Launceston and travel up the valley of the Tamar, through beautiful open country, it is still easy to imagine that we are somewhere in the south of England. The apple orchards are everywhere. Here40is one on a hill slope, but we notice that it is quite unlike the grass-grown orchards so common in Devon. The trees are grown as low bushes, in straight rows; it is less picturesque but more profitable. They produce the fine even fruit which we can buy in the London market. The climate is cooler and moister here than on the mainland and so is well fitted for most of our English fruits. There are the same orchards and the same English crops all along the line of the railway southward to Hobart. The line follows a narrow sheltered lowland. On the east is a broken mountainous country; on the west a great solid plateau,41rising up in tiers or steps, and occupying all the centre of the island. We shall not cross this central block,since it is without road or rail and almost without inhabitants, a bleak bare roof to the island, feeding a few sheep in summer, but even then subject to biting storms and snow.

From Launceston a short journey by rail will take42us to Scottsdale among the hills in the north-eastern corner of the island. Here we meet the bullock team43hauling timber, and droves of sheep on the road, while the eucalyptus forest is all around us; on this drier44eastern side of Tasmania we seem to be back again in Australia. But if we travel westward from Launceston we shall notice a great change. At first our way lies over the plains, between the northern edge of the plateau and the sea. Then, at Burnie, we leave the sea and strike southwards towards a new country. We have turned the north-west corner of the plateau, and between its steep western edge and the sea we find the plain broken by a detached range of mountains rising from the level. Here is the chief mining district in the island.

Let us use our eyes as the train runs swiftly through this country. The gaunt gum-trees have disappeared; everywhere are dense forests of the evergreen beech,45called myrtle by the settlers, with its small feathery leaves. Mingled with the beech are clumps of pine, of various kinds; and below is a dense undergrowth of scrub which makes it difficult to penetrate the forest. The rivers have cut deep gorges in the surface of the plateau: here we see one of these with its slopes clad46thickly with trees. It is a rugged country, largely unexplored, and would have few inhabitants but for the mines. It lies in the track of the strong west winds, the Roaring Forties, and has a rainfall three times as heavy as that of the sheltered eastern valleys, a rainfall only to be compared to that of the wettest parts of the West of Scotland and Ireland. The vegetation is naturally different from that of the neighbouringregions of Australia, with their moderate rainfall and greater warmth; in fact, to find a parallel to Western Tasmania we must look to New Zealand and to parts of South America.

The railway on which we are travelling has been built solely for the benefit of the mines, and we are drawing near to Zeehan, an important centre for the47production of silver, lead, and other metals. Notice the mountains in the distance rising up sharply from the level of the plains. The town looks primitive and48unfinished; little better than a mining camp. Here is one of the smelteries at the foot of the hills. A little49further on we come down to the sea again at Strahan, the only seaport of importance on the west coast. It50lies on a fine bay in the deep and almost landlocked inlet of Macquarie Harbour. This splendid sheet of water was discovered as early as 1816, but it was too far away from the settled portion of Tasmania, and it owes its present importance solely to the presence of the mines in the country behind it.

A short distance inland is Queenstown, where much51smelting is going on. Notice the desolate appearance of the country round, and the stumps of the trees which have been cut down for fuel. Gormanston, with its52background of rugged mountain, is equally desolate. Close to this town are the famous Mount Lyell copper53mines. Here is the “open cut” where they are quarrying into the mountain-side, and here are some of the54smelting works. Here again is a general view from our hotel: the whole country is grim, scarred, and waste,55in great contrast to the beautiful forest scenery a few miles away. But it is the source of great wealth to Tasmania.

We shall not attempt to travel further south than Macquarie Harbour, as there is little beyond but wild forest and hill country, backed by the bare plateau andfull in the path of the westerly gales from the Southern Ocean. It is without roads or railways and has scarcely a human settlement. So we return to Launceston and follow the railway southward to Hobart. The coast of the south-east corner is very different from that of the rest of the island. It is a drowned coast, with deep fiords, many islands, and irregular peninsulas barely connected by narrow necks with the mainland. On one of these deep fiords stands Hobart, the second oldest city in the whole of Australasia.

Here we have a general view of Hobart, looking56across the water to the hills beyond. Once again we are reminded of portions of the Clyde, and only Sydney can compare with Hobart for the beauty of its position. Here is another view from the water, with57Mount Wellington in the background rising into the clouds. In the neighbouring lowlands, sheltered from the west by the mountains, are more apple orchards; and in a gully near the town we find a mass of tree58ferns. Here again is Government House, since Hobart is the political capital of Tasmania: notice the lake59and the trees. Everything around us suggests a mild and not very dry climate.

If we climb Mount Wellington, the aspect of the60country soon changes. The mountain is not an isolated peak, but merely the south-eastern corner of the central plateau. From the summit is a fine view of the fertile lowland valley and the great expanse of fiords and islands. But the summit itself is a wild confusion of boulders with low scrub and heath. This is a very good guide to the nature of the whole surface of the plateau behind, and we realise that it is not a favourable country for the settler, though in some of its wilder aspects it may attract the tourist. We shall not attempt to reach the lakes lying on the surface of the plateau, but content ourselves with a short journey round its southern rim.

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The coach will take us through more orchards,61towards Franklin on the Huon River, where we touch the eastern side of the broken country from which we turned back at Macquarie Harbour. There are settlements all along the Huon Estuary, which runs into the channel of D’Entrecasteaux. Here we have come upon an important remnant of past history. The name is that of a French admiral who was sent out in 1791 to seek for a port in Southern Australia, so that France might gain a footing in these new islands. D’Entrecasteaux actually surveyed the Derwent River, and a later French expedition spent some time in the neighbourhood. Partly through fear of the designs of France we occupied Risdon in 1803, and in the following year, Colonel Collins, not content with the site at Port Phillip in Victoria, which he had occupied for a short time, came over and moved the settlement from Risdon to Hobart. The evidence of the activity of the French explorers in this region is still to be seen in the names of capes and bays all along the eastern coast of Tasmania.

There are saw-mills at Hobart, and all around the Huon is a fine timber country, easily reached from the sea. Here we see the beginning of the end: the cutters62have built a rough platform above the undergrowth and up to the point where the trunk of the tree rises straight and even. They are using the saw, though sometimes the whole work is done with the axe. They are fond of the axe in this part of the world, and it enters even into their sports, since the chopping match is a favourite form of athletic contest among them.

The trees in this district grow to a great size; here we have a forest scene, with the huge logs scattered on63the ground, or loaded on to trucks which will carry them to the mill. Geeveston is noted for its saw-mills, one of which we have before us. The logs disappear64inside the mill, and we meet them again as sawntimber on the little wharf, ready to be shipped to all65parts of the world.

In the valley of the Huon, as well as in that of the Derwent, are orchards everywhere, proving that we are still in the sheltered lowland which we have traced from Launceston southwards. The cottages and gardens, with their masses of English flowers; the English trees, oaks and elms, and the hawthorn hedges all along the roadside, remind us strongly of England. Many even of the birds are English. In fact, this part of the island has been quite transformed by the colonists until it closely resembles the mother country. But we enter the forest and step at once from England to Australia. Here are the tall gums with their untidy bark and dead branches, and the swarms of honey-eating birds flitting among their blossoms. Here, too, are the wattle and banksia and many other plants peculiar to Australia, and the further we move from civilisation the less there is in the face of the country to remind us of England. But one difference may be noted between Tasmania and the rest of Australia: however far we penetrate into the wild interior we shall not meet the aborigines. They were few in number at the time of the first settlement, and the last survivor died many years ago.

On our visits to other great capitals we have found steamers unloading their cargoes in the very heart of the city; but Adelaide, founded in 1836 and named after the wife of King William IV., is neither on the sea nor on a navigable river. The original settlers were aiming at a purely agricultural colony, and so chose a position a few miles inland in the midst of fertile land and pleasant scenery. So we must land at Port Adelaide and take the train.

Partly owing to the separation of the port from the1city, partly owing to the slower and more even growth of South Australia, Adelaide seems quieter and less crowded than Melbourne or Sydney, and its inhabitants consider it to be the model capital of Eastern Australia. King William Street, which we see here, with the2statue of Colonel Light, the founder of the city, in the foreground, does not look in the least commercial. We get the same impression as we walk along the tree-clad3banks of the little Torrens River, or cross it by the City Bridge. We miss the wharves and warehouses4and steam cranes, and might almost imagine that we were on a backwater of the Upper Thames. The main5streets, too, of the city remind us rather of the West End than of the City of London; while even the post-office6stands in an open space with trees. In fact, the whole city, with its wide streets, its parks and gardens,7gives the impression of spaciousness. If we make our way, however, to the railway station we shall see that Adelaide is not by any means without trade. Here arecollected the products of all the country round; but as this is purely agricultural, and Adelaide is not the only outlet, there is not the rush of business which we saw at Melbourne.

South Australia: Orographical.By permission of the Diagram Co.

Here is a general view which will give us some idea8of the position of the city. It lies on a plain; a few miles away to the east the view is shut in by a long, low ridge. If we climb this ridge and look back towards the city, we have in sight a large part of the original South Australia.

South Australia of to-day is a somewhat difficult9country to analyse; but the ridge on which we are standing may give us the key to the whole. If wefollow the heights northwards, we shall find that they disappear, hundreds of miles away, in the country south-east of Lake Eyre. South of Adelaide they curve round and end in Kangaroo Island, which stretches across the mouth of the Gulf of St. Vincent. These heights are really the edge of a plateau, and the plateau slopes gently away from the sea towards the basin of the Murray. The Murray, at the great bend, turns sharply southwards and reaches its outlet in Lake Alexandrina just beyond the southern end of the highlands.

Between the plateau edge and the sea, Adelaide and the Gulf towns lie along a narrow strip of lowland. The Gulf of St. Vincent is merely part of a larger gulf which is interrupted by Yorke Peninsula, so that we have really one great inlet running up to Port Augusta at the head of Spencer Gulf. The west side of this gulf is formed by another plateau which slopes away from the sea towards the salt lakes and marshes of the interior. We thus have two plateaus and a lowland in between, partly flooded by the sea. A portion of the surface has dropped down between two lines of cracks or faults, and a rift valley has been formed. Lake Torrens occupies the northern end of this valley. It is the eastern side of the valley, together with a small part of the back of the plateau, which constitutes the real South Australia. We may notice that the local railways are almost confined to this area.

There is, however, one important piece of the State outside this area. South of Lake Alexandrina we see a long curving coast, bounded by sandbanks enclosing a string of lagoons, the Coorong; behind it is the scrub country which we have met already in the north-west district of Victoria. Beyond this, in the south-east corner, especially around Mount Gambier, we find the same conditions as on the neighbouring coast regions of Victoria. There is considerable rainfall and there are10even fresh-water lakes, as we see here. The soil, too, is fertile, since Mount Gambier belongs to the volcanic area of Victoria; so that there is agriculture and dairy farming, and oats are grown. But the district is cut off from Adelaide by land and has rather a detached existence, though the railways now being built or planned will alter this.

We will now explore the country round Adelaide. In the Mount Lofty ranges, east of the city, there are11streams and waterfalls; but the rivers of the plain are very small and do not suggest a very heavy rainfall. Everywhere are orchards and vineyards growing fruits which are not grown in the open air in England. Here12is an orchard quite near the city, and here is an orange tree laden with ripening fruit. The rainfall is very13light and comes mostly in the winter, while the summers are hotter than in most of the occupied regions of Australia. We have the sunny climate of the Mediterranean and a corresponding vegetation. Yet it is healthy for white people, in spite of the heat, owing to the dry clear air; while the highlands only a few miles away offer a refuge in the summer.

On the eastward side of the plateau there are again no large rivers, and the rainfall is even less than at Adelaide; but there is enough to grow fine crops of wheat. We see much the same arrangement of zones as at the back of Sydney, but the wheat-belt is narrower and the rainfall rather less. Very soon we drop down into the rainless plains of the Murray basin, where the only cultivation is in the irrigated district round Renmark. Here we can see them drying the raisins14and loading them on to the little steamer which will take them down to near the mouth of the river. They15will then be sent on by rail to Adelaide, since the river has no good outlet to the sea.

Yorke Peninsula and the western side of Spencer Gulf have a few small towns on the coast; inland theyhave no rivers but only dry pastures, salt lakes, and marshes. Here is one of these lakes in the Peninsula.16The character of this district will change in the future, as much of it is adapted for the growing of wheat which has already been introduced. The only considerable population at present is on the coast strip from Adelaide to Port Augusta, and on the back of the plateau, never more than a hundred miles from the coast.

As we follow the railway northwards from Adelaide17we shall find that agriculture decreases with the decreasing rainfall; in place of crops we see cattle and sheep. Here is a typical station only a hundred miles18north of Adelaide, where the sheep seem to be in full possession. The further north we go the thinner is the settlement; and north of Port Augusta we shall only find it at a few favoured spots near the railway.

Beyond Lake Torrens the plateau edge to the east trends away and disappears, and we enter the Lake Eyre basin. At one time this may have been a vast inland sea, as the remains of extinct animals show that the climate must have been very different from the present. Now it is a great clay plain, broken by low plateaus and ridges of sandstone, and with much of its surface covered with stones or mulga scrub. The lakes are salt, while the long rivers, shown on the map as flowing into them, may be only a string of mudholes for years together. Much of this region is still unexplored, and nearly the whole of it is useless.

The railway ends at Oodnadatta, to which a train runs at rare intervals; and off the railway the camel, which19has been introduced into Australia for this purpose, is the only means of transport. To the east of this line something may be made of the country by boring through the clay to reach the artesian water, as we have seen already in Queensland and New South Wales; so that settlement may spread slowly towards these States.To the west is the arid plateau which covers so much of the central part of the continent—the Sahara of Australia.

Adelaide is a little south of Sydney in latitude, and20Oodnadatta a little south of Brisbane, yet what a difference between the two parallel journeys by rail! The explanation is to be found in the rainfall figures: north of Port Augusta we enter the zone where the annual amount is under ten inches. The railway reminds us of those starting from the east coast and ending at some remote point in the interior; but there seems very little country here for our line to exploit or develop. To understand fully its meaning we must look back at the past history of the region.

South Australia was founded by an Association formed in England with the object of building up a model agricultural colony. The plan was to sell the unoccupied land and use the proceeds to aid suitable emigrants in settling there. With this idea Adelaide was founded in 1836. For a few years the colony was poor, as it was intended to be self-supporting and the capital in private hands was insufficient to develop the country. But progress was helped by the various discoveries of copper, from 1842 onwards, at Kapunda, Burra and other places; and by 1855 the colony was able to export large quantities of agricultural produce to the other colonies, which had depended mainly on Tasmania up to this time.

It is curious that the State which is still mainly agricultural was the first to develop its minerals on a large scale; but as the mineral was copper and not gold, it led to no rush of settlers, but only to a steady growth of population. The older mines have been long worked out, but those in Yorke Peninsula and in the21Flinders Range still produce large quantities. Here are views of the Wallaroo and Moonta mines in the Peninsula.22

With the exception of some iron ore, which is not much worked, South Australia has no other important minerals of its own: yet at Port Pirie, on the east side of Spencer Gulf, we find large smelting works. To explain this we must look back again at the railway map. From the port a line runs north-east for two hundred miles or more, to the Silverton country, just inside the New South Wales border which we have already visited. It is the natural outlet for this district, as Sydney is more than twice as far away.

Here we see Port Pirie and some of the smelting23works. The works also handle iron ore which is brought down to the opposite shore of the Gulf by a short railway24from Iron Knob, near Lake Gilles, in the dry interior of the western plateau. In the case of this district we notice once again that the artificial boundary following a line of longitude has no correspondence with the natural features of the country.

We have already seen how, on the constitution of Queensland as a separate State in 1859, the country25to the west was left as a detached portion of New South Wales. In 1855, Gregory had crossed what is now the Northern Territory, from the Victoria River in the west to the Flinders River, and so through North Queensland to Brisbane, following the line taken earlier by the explorer Leichhardt, but further inland. At the same time, various explorers had been following up Eyre’s discoveries in South Australia, and miners and shepherds were pushing steadily northwards from Yorke Peninsula along the line of the present railway. In 1859, South Australia offered a prize for the first explorer to cross the continent from south to north, urged on by the proposal to connect Australia with England by a cable which must be landed somewhere on the north coast. A party from Victoria, under Burke, started first, and following roughly the western boundaries of New SouthWales and Queensland, came out by way of the Flinders River to the Gulf of Carpentaria. But on their return Burke and Wills perished at Cooper’s Creek of starvation, and only one member of the party was rescued.

In 1862, Stuart, for South Australia, succeeded in crossing to the north coast and returning to Adelaide by the route west of Lake Eyre which is now followed by the railway and telegraph. The immediate result was that the Northern Territory became politically part of South Australia, instead of being an annex to New South Wales; but it has recently been transferred to the Commonwealth Government by which it is now administered. By 1872, the telegraph line was completed to Palmerston, the northern capital, on Port Darwin, where the cable is landed. By 1889, the railway from the south had been pushed forward to Oodnadatta, nearly seven hundred miles from Adelaide; while in the north one hundred and fifty miles of line was built southwards. Some day, probably in the near future, the rail will stretch from shore to shore, but there still remains a gap of over a thousand miles.

North of Lake Eyre, and on the Tropic, the Territory is crossed by the Macdonell Ranges, running east and west. Then comes a stretch of five hundred miles of sandy plains, with scrub and spinifex, and then the peninsula of Arnhem Land, a low plateau with a considerable rainfall. Right on the coast are mangrove swamps and tropical rainfall, as in North Queensland. Though some of this country is suited to cattle, and gold has also been discovered, progress has not been very rapid, in spite of the importance of the magnificent harbour of Port Darwin. The population consists of a few hundred Europeans, as many Asiatics, mainly Chinese, and some thousands of aborigines.

After Stuart’s journey there remained only to complete the conquest of the desert from east to west. In 1840, Eyre had succeeded in travelling from Adelaideto West Australia along the shores of the Great Australian Bight. It was 1870 before Sir John Forrest traversed the same route in the opposite direction. The result was the occupation of Eucla, in the middle of the Bight, and the completion of the overland wire from Adelaide to Albany in 1877. Finally, in 1874, Forrest crossed the middle of the great plateau, from Geraldton to the north-south telegraph line. A few daring journeys and the two telegraph lines still represent the only land links between the detached areas of settlement which fringe the central plateau block; but a stronger link will soon be forged. Already the work is in hand. A survey of the route was completed in 1909 by the Federal Government; and at the end of 1911 a Bill was passed for the construction of a railway from Port Augusta to Kalgoorlie, a distance of over 1000 miles. This line will not only shorten the mail route to the eastern States, but may also lead to some pastoral settlement, as not all the country traversed is desert.

South and Western Australia, with the Northern Territory, together include nearly two-thirds of the continent. Western Australia alone includes nearly a third. It is rather more than five times the size of Spain, but its population is smaller than that of any of the States of the mainland. The reason for this contrast is partly a matter of history, as the State is comparatively young, and partly due to geographical causes, as we shall see when we have examined the country.

The map shows Western Australia stretching from26north to south, across the whole breadth of the continent, with the Tropic running through the middle. It corresponds in position to Queensland and New South Wales; for Cape Londonderry is in the same latitude as the middle of Cape York Peninsula in Queensland, while Albany is a little south of Sydney. The greater part ofthe State is occupied by a broad plateau, from a thousand to fifteen hundred feet high; between this and the sea is a narrow coastal plain, irregular and deeply indented in the north, narrower and more uniform towards the south, and disappearing in the south-west corner where the plateau edge approaches the sea. We may notice a certain likeness here to the structure of the eastern end of the continent. We shall find nearly the whole of the agricultural population collected along a comparatively narrow belt of country from Geraldton to Albany, with Perth, the capital, in the middle. On the plateau there are no great rivers, but many short streams run down from its western edge to the sea; and though the map shows large lakes in the interior we shall find that in this case the map is not entirely to be trusted.

The Swan River was discovered by Captain Stirling on his exploring mission from Sydney in 1827. Two years later Captain Fremantle took formal possession, and the Swan River Settlement was founded. The Home Government was at first doubtful about the project, but was urged on to the settlement through fear of French occupation. Perth itself lies twelve27miles up the river; its port is Fremantle, at the mouth of the river, on a deep and safe harbour, crowded with28wharves and shipping. It is the main outlet for the trade of all this part of Western Australia.

Instead of taking the train we will travel by launch up the Swan River; on our way we notice the large29flocks of black swans which are now collected here and preserved by the Government. The city of Perth is smaller and more irregular than Adelaide or Melbourne, and we see it at its best as we approach by the river. It lies rather in a hollow, and from the higher land in30the King’s Park we get a fine view along the river front. The main streets differ little from those of other Australian cities; but in St. George’s Terrace31they are working on the road, and we notice that the old tree stumps are not yet removed. Although Perth is making very rapid progress, everything is as yet somewhat quieter, more picturesque and on a smaller scale than in the great capitals of the eastern States. On the outskirts of the city, especially overlooking the river, are the gardens and houses of the wealthier residents. Here is one of these; notice the32lemon trees laden with fruit, although it is winter. In the country round we shall feel quite at home. Here we have a picture with pasture and scattered trees and fat cattle; and we pass a poultry farm which might33well be in a corner of Surrey.

Let us follow the Swan, now become the Avon River, inland. First we come to Newcastle, where there are many orange orchards in the broad valley; then we pass the township of Northam, where we meet a native woman34on the road, and finally we reach York. From one of the surrounding hills we look down on a broad expanse of35plain, dotted with farmhouses, and with a background of hills in the distance. There is a flour mill which36might be in our own Yorkshire, and a very English-looking church on the sloping bank above the river.37All looks settled and civilised. On the other hand, the King’s Head hotel is entirely primitive, and carries38us back to the days of the early settlers, as it is one of the oldest buildings in the State. As we cross the bridge we notice that the trees are standing in the water, for the river is in flood.

We have here a country full of English place-names, and with scenery which often reminds us of England; but at the same time we find wheat and oranges growing side by side, and trees in fruit and flower in the winter. This suggests something very different from our own climate. We must remember that Perth is in latitude 32° S. and that this district therefore corresponds to Egypt or Morocco. It is a land where frostsare unknown in the lowlands and valleys near the sea, and where the summers are hot and dry, though tempered by the sea breezes. Most of the rain falls in the winter, which is therefore the growing time; we have already noticed the Avon in flood. Even in the winter there is plenty of sun, as the rain falls largely in heavy showers at night.

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