An hour after leaving Perth the track picked up the Kalgoorlie water main, which thereafter ran beside the rails, a half-buried steel conduit thirty inches thick, all the way to the goldfields. This water main is one of the most wonderful in the world. It daily delivers at the mines five million gallons of pure water, after conveying it 350 miles from the Mundaring Reservoir. This reservoir has a masonry weir a hundred feet high, which has been built right across a river-valley, thereby impounding the water and forming a lake seven miles long, holding four seasons' supply. The difficulty of building the works was much increased by the height up which the water has to be forced in the course of its journey. In all, the pipe-line climbs 1,290 feet between Mundaring Reservoir and Bulla Bulling, the highest point upon the circuit, alift which requires some of the most powerful pumps in the world to negotiate. The installation is essential for the people of Kalgoorlie, whose city is in the midst of the desert, with no other source of supply fit for human consumption, as the water that accumulates in the mine workings is definitely brackish, though cattle will drink it in some cases.
Fine rain shaded off into showers as the train proceeded eastward. Further on grey skies were replaced by brilliant sunshine. The country grew continually drier; wheatfields changed into scraggy forest. The forest thinned out and was succeeded by vast expanses of nondescript scrub and desolate bluish salt bush, through which the train sped throughout the night. When the Prince awoke the following morning he was in desert country. Coolgardie, his first stepping-off place, proved to be a dying city. Its original sixteen thousand inhabitants are now represented by only a few hundreds. The majority have moved to the still active mines of Kalgoorlie. Many lie in France, for no community enlisted more freely or fought more bravely than did the men of this far-off town. All that were left had turned out to meet the Prince. It was a curious assemblage, largely consisting of men past work and women and children, who still cling to wooden shanties fast falling into decay, amidst spoil heaps and ruins of fine public buildings, a great place once but a sad spectacle now. The big water main enters Coolgardie, and is sparingly tapped there, but its contents are too precious to be used for irrigation by the way, and without water for this purpose it was impossible for Coolgardie to follow the example of Ballarat in turning its miners into cultivators when the gold gaveout. The shy buzzard of the desert now perches fearlessly where once was heavy traffic. The wild dingo has come in from the plains, and makes its home in what were once busy crushing mills and palatial business houses. Soon sand will cover what remains, and the salt bush will be supreme as aforetime.
Kalgoorlie, where the Prince next alighted, proved to be a very different place. Here twenty-four thousand people were living in prosperity, and are likely to continue in this position so long as their reef goes on yielding its harvest of yellow ore. The visitor was welcomed by a big crowd, including a large body of returned soldiers, of whom two wore the Victoria Cross. He was given a cheerful luncheon by the Chamber of Mines, at which the large company present were waited on by daughters of the principal residents, who prepared, cooked and served a banquet which could not have been surpassed anywhere. In the course of his reply to a civic address later on, "I am looking forward," the Prince said, "to my stay in this wonderful goldbearing area. I have heard with admiration of the pioneering pluck and engineering skill which have enabled this great city to be built and provided with all the necessary services of a large population in country where water is so scarce. I particularly prize the opportunity of making acquaintance with the people who have placed this miracle of development to the credit of British industry and enterprise. I am also much interested in the terminus of the great Trans-Australian Railway which links you with the eastern States of the Commonwealth."
Before leaving Kalgoorlie the Prince visited workings on the forty-foot thick reef of the "golden mile" which is being gradually nibbled away.This reef, since its discovery a quarter of a century ago, has produced seventy-four million sterling of gold. The profit of working it has not kept pace with the increased cost of labour and machinery, but continues to be appreciable, and large masses of paying quartz are still in sight.
At Kalgoorlie the Prince left the simply equipped three-feet-six-inch gauge of the West Australian State Railway, and continued his journey, at forty miles an hour, on a luxuriously fitted and smooth-running train on the standard gauge of the Trans-Australian line.
In charge of the train was Mr. Norris Bell, the eminent engineer who controlled the construction of the line, and is now running it in such a way that, despite almost total absence of local traffic, it is nearly paying its working expenses, a remarkable achievement considering the desolate nature of the country through which it passes. The railway connects the populous States of Victoria, New South Wales and South Australia, with the vast and potentially rich, but presently undeveloped, western territories. It is one of those imaginative national enterprises undertaken by young countries, and is bound to be justified by the generous policy of land development which usually accompanies, though at present it draws its dividends from the future.
The Nullarbor plain through which it passes is so devoid of rain that it not only possesses no streams, but its level expanse is unscarred byeven a dry water-course. It is almost absolutely flat for several hundreds of miles, after which it undulates slightly, the folds being in some cases occupied by lakes or tanks, most of which are so salt that they are useless for either drinking or irrigation. Their banks form desolate patches of gleaming white on the horizon, owing to the crystallization of masses of salt upon them. In places where fresh water is obtainable, it has usually to be pumped up from some depth below ground. Wells are so far between that the train has to carry tanks large enough to water the engine for two hundred miles without replenishment.
The portion of the plain in which the Prince found himself, the morning after leaving Kalgoorlie, was of red earth thickly sprinkled with white stones of irregular shape, shaded by bunchy grey salt-bushes the size of cabbages. These salt-bushes, dry and dusty as they appear, afford quite good fodder for sheep. The plain, therefore, almost entirely rainless as it is, only requires the provision of drinking-water to enable it to be put to profitable use. Sheep-stations already exist upon it, wherever it has been found possible to tap subsoil water sweet enough for the sheep to drink, and with growing knowledge of this remarkable region, and improved methods of purifying saline springs, it is hoped gradually to convert much of what is now unproductive into sheep-raising areas.
As the train rushed onward through the day, the stones became smaller and eventually disappeared, and the salt-bushes grew gradually larger. One lost the impression of moving through an interminable cabbage patch, and felt as on a ship. The salt-bushes rippled over a calm expanse ofocean extending on all sides to a far horizon.
In the afternoon a halt was made and the Prince alighted and paid a visit to a rude encampment of aborigines, who had travelled a hundred miles on foot to meet him. They performed a number of weird ceremonial dances before him, and gave an exhibition of their skill in the throwing of boomerangs and spears. The performers were almost completely naked men and boys, painted all over with red and other brilliant patches on a whitish ground, whose only garment was a scanty rag of dirty cotton cloth that could hardly be said even to encompass the waist. The dances were slow, the performers sometimes stealing in single file round a circle, sometimes springing as if to the attack, the while incantations were chanted by miserable bundles of savage humanity, feminine as well as masculine, who squatted upon the ground. The boomerang-throwing was a much more lively affair. The air hummed with sharp wooden blades the size and weight of reaping-hooks. About a dozen performers operated simultaneously and each threw quite a number of these blades in quick succession to immense heights, where they hovered like hawks, eventually to descend with uncanny speed in a series of crooked swirls and side-long rushes. The circles described were such that quite a wide area was swept by flying blades each of which travelled on a complicated orbit of its own, of extraordinary speed, the sharp edge continually leading. It was explained that these boomerangs were of the hunting type, and were used in practice chiefly against flights of duck, the birds taking them for hawks and keeping low and thus within range when they were in the air. The spear-throwing was also interesting. The spears consisted of straight wooden shafts, like slim but heavy bean-sticks, with a tapering charred point sharpened to acuteness, and tail winged with a thin wooden slip the size of a biggish paper-knife. These spears were thrown with marvellous force and precision, with an action like that of overhand bowling, a sack stuffed with salt-bush branches and crudely painted to represent a human face, being transfixed again and again, in the centre, at sixty yards. These wretched people appear to be rapidly dying out despite liberal grants from the Commonwealth and State Governments to educate and feed them. In the south they seem to be entirely incapable of learning even how to cook or wash or build themselves shelters. In the north they are less degraded and find employment on cattle-stations where some of them make excellent stock-drivers, learning to ride well and handle animals.
CROSSING THE NULLARBOR PLAIN
ABORIGINAL DANCE
The camp visited by the Prince was typical of the lowest amongst them.It was being looked after by a cultivated Australian lady who was devoting herself to the services of these poor creatures, who seemed to be entirely dependent upon her, so incapable were they of fending for themselves in any practical manner beyond that of adding to the larder by the killing of a limited number of small animals. When left to themselves, we were told, they seldom had more than twenty-four hours' food supply within sight. Their intelligence does not even extend to the keeping of provisions when supplied with them in any quantity beyond what they can devour upon the spot.
Another picturesque incident occurred about sunset, when the trainstopped at an artesian boring to take in a fresh supply of water. Here some twenty well-conditioned camels were grazing upon the salt-bushes, in charge of two intelligent natives of Rawalpindi, India. These turbaned Punjabis, who spoke Hindustani with a distinct Australian accent, so long had they been in the country, were marching the camels overland to Western Australia, where they hoped to sell them at a good price for transport work in the bush. The men had evidently prospered. They said they had found Australia a good country, though they looked forward to retiring eventually to their own land. Several Eurasian children were with them. It was a reminder of those racial problems of which the people of Australia take constant thought when they determine to develop the natural resources of their wonderful land, as far as may be, by white labour alone. It is no disparagement of the Oriental to say that he is at his best when he is entirely of the East, just as the white man is at his best when he mates with those of his own country and race, a point upon which Australia, at all events, is thoroughly convinced.
The Prince alighted at sundown at the shipping centre Port Augusta, at the head of Spencer gulf, and was welcomed to South Australia by Mr. Barwell, State Premier, and other members of the Cabinet. A civic reception was held, and the party changed over from the standard gauge train of the Trans-Australian Railway, into a train on the narrow gauge of South Australia, which was standing in the station profusely decorated for the occasion. A start was then made on the two hundred and sixty miles that lay between that point and Adelaide, throughout the whole of which distance, we afterwards learnt, a guard had been placed on every bridge and culvert. The people of South Australia were in no mind that the Prince should run the risk of further accident.
Civic receptions, at which numbers of returned men and other war workers were drawn up, and all the inhabitants turned out, were given at various placesen route, including Quorn, Peterborough, Terowie, and Gawler. The first part of the way was over the picturesque Pichirichi pass, thirteen hundred feet above sea level. After descending on the other side the narrow gauge gave place to the broad five-feet-three-inchtrack, which connects Adelaide with Melbourne. Sir Archibald Weigall, Governor of South Australia, soon afterwards joined the train. The latter part of the route was through flat and extraordinarily fertile farming country.
Adelaide was reached about noon. Here a large proportion of the inhabitants of the province had assembled to welcome the Prince. A procession was formed at the railway station, where guards-of-honour were drawn up. The Prince shared a motor with Sir Archibald Weigall. Mr. Barwell and other members of the South Australian Government occupied cars behind. A well-mounted escort of light horse, in khaki, jingled on either side. The entire route, some three miles in length through the principal streets, had been elaborately decorated, and was lined ten deep the whole way with cheerful crowds. Entering the spacious and solidly built King George's Street, where magnificent bodies of Flying Corps, Engineers, Naval Reserve, and other returned men kept the barricades, the Prince was greeted by numbers of lady war-workers, in fresh white uniforms, who had public-spiritedly reopened, for the benefit of the blue-jackets and marines on the various visiting war-vessels, the "Cheer-up club" which did such good service during the war. Cadets, red cross workers, and masses of medalled returned men lined the space opposite the town hall, where Mayor Moulder read a civic address, to which the Prince replied, describing his now nearly half-completed travels in the Commonwealth as a most memorable experience, a statement heartily endorsed by all who shared them. From the town hall the procession went on to the working-men's quarter,where the reception was as enthusiastic as anywhere. It was also noticeable that although only school-children, of whom there were incredible numbers, lined the route for at least half a mile in this part of the city, order was as well kept as in thoroughfares elsewhere, where regulars or volunteers were lined up.
Outside the big market in Rendal Street, beneath a wide arch built on one side with vegetables, and on the other with apples and oranges, a pretty function occurred, a little girl, daughter of the oldest gardener doing business with the market, presenting the Prince with a bouquet, and a small boy, the son of the oldest packer, with a basket of fruit, offerings that symbolized pleasantly enough the very considerable business done in South Australia in garden produce.
Further on, in North Terrace, a more touching spectacle was presented where hundreds of beds from the hospitals, each with a nurse in attendance, lined the route, and the Prince paused for a word of greeting with the patients. Medical students, apprentices, and yet more cadets, were lined up near the fine stone buildings of the Art Gallery, the University and the Exhibition, which are here grouped together. The procession ultimately entered and ended in the quiet gardens of Government House, where H.R.H. was to spend the week of his visit.
Amongst functions which took place at Adelaide during the next few days, was a state dinner at the leading hotel, at which three hundred sat down, including everybody of importance in the South Australian Government. Mr. Barwell proposed, and Mr. Gunn, spokesman of the Labour Party, and Leader of the Opposition in the State Legislature, secondedthe toast of the Prince's health. The Prince replied and the proceedings throughout were of the usual cordial nature. A climax was reached after the dinner was over, and it was time for the Royal guest to get home to bed. It was then discovered that the streets outside were so solidly packed with people that it was quite impossible either for the motor-cars to reach the door or for the party to walk to where they were posted. The Prince was brought back into the building, whence he addressed the crowd, at first from an upper window, and afterwards from a roof on which he climbed so as to be nearer the throng. In the end, a way out was found through a side street, by a door much affected by bridal couples.
In the course of his speech at this dinner, the Prince referred sympathetically to the recent death of Premier Peake. He went on to express appreciation of the welcome given him by Adelaide, "the garden city of the Commonwealth," and dwelt upon the fine war-services of South Australia, and the magnificent opportunities which this State offers for development. He also mentioned the extent to which the future of Australia, as a whole, depends upon a broad far-seeing railway policy, a railway policy in fact "that is continental in scope." Continuing he expressed regret at having been compelled to omit his originally proposed overland journey from South Australia to Queensland, and announced that, to make this up, it had now been decided, in consultation with the Queensland Government, to substitute at least one week in the back-blocks or interior of Australia, for the proposed visit to the new mandated territory at Rabaul. "I am very sorry," the Princeadded, "to have had to cut out Rabaul, but as I had to choose between the two I am delighted to think I shall now be able to spend some days in seeing bush and station life for myself in the real heart of Australia." This decision met with general approval. Rabaul stands for the mandated territory of tropical New Guinea, formerly in German possession, and now allocated to the Commonwealth. It is a territory bigger than England and Wales but only sparsely inhabited, partially developed, and with no specially outstanding features. No interest it offers could compare with that of Australia itself.
The next few days were busy ones, public functions succeeding one another almost continuously, and acres of close-packed crowds assembling wherever it was announced that the Prince was to be present. On one occasion he unveiled a fine bronze statue of the late King Edward. On another he conversed with an assemblage of blinded soldiers. One of the most picturesque of his experiences was when four thousand women war-workers, including nurses, members of Cheer-up clubs, motor-ambulance drivers, comforts workers, and members of the Mothers' League marched past him in solid battalions, many of them bearing stripes indicative of five years' public service, and some the badge which stood for son or husband killed at the front. The scene of enthusiasm will long be remembered when he told them he hoped that they, like the diggers, would all look upon him as a comrade. It was a thing he said often but never too often.
The Prince also made expeditions into the surrounding country, which has a climate like that of Italy, the vineyards climbing the terracedhills around Adelaide enhancing the resemblance. He here made the acquaintance of the Australian wine industry, which continues to prosper and expand, despite the new and devastating form of drought that threatens it throughout the world. The difficulties of the trade are considerable. The Australian is not himself a wine-bibber. His intoxicant is whisky and his stimulant is tea. Withal he is a very temperate person. No great home market, therefore, is at hand for the native wines, and in spite of an excellence in many brands which must in the long run establish them, the European importer still shows only a modified confidence in stocking them to the displacement of the better known labels of Southern Europe. Six million gallons annually, however, are being drunk somewhere.
On the day of the Prince's departure from Adelaide, eight thousand state school-children and forty-five thousand spectators said good-bye to him in brilliant sunshine, on the Adelaide cricket-ground. From the cricket-ground he proceeded to the University, where the degree of D.C.L. was conferred upon him. Thence through large crowds, which had waited hours for his passing, and greeted him when he appeared with friendly shouts of "Good-bye, Digger," he went to the railway station, and proceeded by train to Port Adelaide. Here a local civic address was presented, and yet another large gathering of children, returned men and war-workers cheered him. The Royal train eventually went on, down the Port Adelaide main street, which was black with people, to the outer harbour wharves, where Sir Archibald Weigall, Mr. Barwell, Mr. Moulden, and other leading men of South Australia went on theRenownandsaid good-bye, the Prince ultimately sailing for Tasmania.
The Prince's reception at Hobart, Tasmania, was a great popular occasion. Decorations had been kept up and renewed since the preceding month, when the visit was originally to have taken place, and were still imposing, while the crowds along the processional route, which was several miles in length, were enormous.
The Governor, Sir William Allardice, paid a ceremonial visit to the Prince immediately theRenownanchored off Ocean Pier. On landing the Prince was received by Sir Walter Lee, State Premier, Major-General Sir John Jellibrand, and members of the Tasmanian Government. On the pier he inspected guards-of-honour of seamen and cadets, and shook hands with five of Tasmania's eleven V.C.'s, including Sergeant McDougall, who had been an inmate of a pulmonary hospital when war broke out, yet managed to get to the front and came back with the most coveted distinction in the army.
From the pier the Prince was taken to one of the big dockyard sheds, which he found filled with returned men, nurses and other war-workers, including the venerable Mrs. Roberts, a well-known local figure, who stood, a bent old lady in black, waving the Union Jack beside the commandant. Many were the Mrs. Robertses, under different names, that these ceremonial occasions produced. One learned to look for them, figures full of years and honour, spirits erect in failing bodies, dim eyes lit by the old torch, frail arms carrying on the old tradition. Homage to Mrs. Roberts, war-worker, be her style married or single. She is a symbol of the race.
LEAVING PORT ADELAIDE
MOUNT WELLINGTON, HOBART
In this place the Prince was cheered in the lustiest manner, and waspresented with an illuminated copy of the Tasmanian muster-roll, also with the gold badge of the twelfth battalion. Thereafter he was taken in procession through the streets, where the crowd was so dense and anxious to get near to him, that the pace had to be of the slowest. Nothing could exceed the good nature of those who were pressing in upon the route, however, which was well kept after the first quarter of a mile. A civic address was read outside the town hall, where the Prince, whose voice had given out, wisely abstained from straining it further by any attempt to make it heard beyond the platform occupied by the Mayor and Councillors.
Later on he attended a big state luncheon. The speakers included the Premier, who dwelt upon Tasmania's loyalty and warm-hearted devotion to the Empire. He also referred to developments that will eventually revolutionize the industrial and commercial future of the island, no less than a quarter of a million horse-power being in course of being tapped by hydro-electric installations.
Mr. Ogden, the Labour Party chairman and leader of the Opposition in the State Legislature, also spoke. He said the loyalty of Tasmania was not to be measured by the population of this beautiful island, but was aloyalty that extended to an Empire wherein the great gulf between rich and poor would eventually be narrowed. The Prince was by this time too hoarse to reply at any length. He managed to tell his enthusiastic audience, however, that the chief thing he would have liked to be able to say to them was how much he appreciated the reception given to him.
The Prince's engagements during the two days he spent at Hobart included a civic ball and races, an investiture and a big outdoor popular reception, and witnessing the electric illumination of the city. The last was especially interesting, not only as exhibiting what is probably one of the most beautiful ports in the world, but also as an illustration of one of the uses to which Tasmania's new hydro-electric power can be put. The installation, which is connected with the overflow of an impounded lake in the centre of the island, is rapidly transforming this sleepy little State of the Commonwealth into a busy industrial centre. Copper mines on the west coast are doing all their smelting by this means. Hobart and Launceston drive their trams and light their street lamps with the new power. Before the war the whole of the zinc ore won from the Broken Hill mines in South Australia went to Germany as a matter of course to be converted. Tasmania now handles much and will presently handle all of it. Hitherto Australian downs have grown the wool and Yorkshire looms have woven it. Presently Tasmanian mills will perform the latter process, and so far as the Commonwealth is concerned her fleeces will no longer make the journey across two oceans and back, on their way to adorn and comfort the persons of herpopulation. From the manufacturer's point of view there are advantages in isolation. Power, sugar and a liberal market have drawn the Cadbury firm to Hobart, and foundations are already laid which will ultimately prosper upon the sweet tooth of the Polynesian belle. The old Arcadian days of Tasmania are gone with its colonial status. Its climate will always draw seekers of ease in retirement, and its orchards will remunerate their leisure, but the future of the State, under the protection of the Commonwealth tariff, is industrial.
The humorous inhabitants of its larger fellow States have a way of calling the island a "flyfleck," but its importance in the Commonwealth is out of all proportion to its size. The amenities it offers have from the beginning attracted the settler with some liberty of choice, with the result that Tasmania has contributed a large proportion of leading men to the Commonwealth. It is also remarkable for the number of retired members of the military and civil services of India amongst its settlers, men who in their prime have borne heavy responsibilities, and in their declining years are giving still commanding abilities to the development of the land they have chosen to be their home.
The Prince crossed Tasmania by rail at night, arriving the following morning at Launceston, another seaport city of extraordinary scenic beauty. Here he added to his tour one more experience of the entire population turning out to welcome him in a city decorated from end to end in honour of his coming. He stayed the night at the "Brisbane" hotel, and attended a number of ceremonies. In the course of the afternoon he inspected masses of school-children. The physical impossibility of shaking hands with all the teachers in attendancesuggested the idea of inviting those of them who were returned soldiers to do so, and it was surprising what a large proportion were able to claim the honour. Another function was his meeting disabled men at the principal hospital. These poor fellows gave him the wildest reception, and the whole assemblage laughed most heartily when, on the invitation of one of them, he flicked halfpennies in a "two up" game. Later on the Prince climbed the beautiful Cataract gorge afoot, at a pace with which the members of the Cabinet who were with him had all they could do to keep up. He finished a long day with a visit to the Launceston races, followed by a popular reception at the town hall, where ten thousand people passed in procession before him.
The following day H.R.H. returned to Hobart, the State Premier and other members of the Government, including the Ministers of Lands and Railways, accompanying him on the train. The inhabitants assembled and cheered him at every passing station, while at the more important, including Tunbridge, Parallah and Brighton, he alighted and participated in civic receptions. The region traversed included a rich farming and orcharding district, on which numbers of returned soldiers, some of them belonging to the British Army, who are being given by the Government precisely the same treatment as their Australian comrades, are being started as farmers. The State not only supplies them with already cleared and fenced holdings and necessary buildings, but finances them on terms calculated to enable men without a penny of their own, beyond their war gratuity, to become independent freehold proprietors within ten years. One of the features of this admirable scheme is that thesettlement has attached to it an expert instructor, who is in Government employ. Those settlers who have so far moved in have found a portion of the holdings allotted to them already under crop, and some one at hand to teach them how to apply their own labour to the best advantage. They are being inducted into agricultural prosperity, in one of the most perfect climates in the world, close to a railway, and in surroundings comparable to those of Devonshire. One of them brought to show to the Prince two prize sheep-dogs he had reared which he valued at a hundred and fifty pounds. The Royal party left this spot regretfully, so full of fair prospects for men who deserve all that can be done for them did it seem. The number so far settled is not very large, but the Minister for Lands, to whose initiative, resource and enthusiasm the success already achieved is largely due, is hopeful that it will be possible to extend it to all suitable returned men who present themselves. In this case Tasmania should receive a signal increase in population, for nowhere in the world have I seen a more cheerful outlook for the soldier who is of the right type to become a farmer.
The Prince was booked to spend the evening of his return to Hobart at the Soldiers' Club, before going on board theRenown, which was to sail at midnight. It was characteristic of the Tasmanians that the men themselves remembered how trying this would be for him after his long and strenuous day. They proposed, therefore, of their own motion, that they should say good-bye to him on the wharf, and this was the course ultimately adopted. It was a graceful act which fittingly terminated one of the pleasantest visits of the tour.
Accompanied by His Majesty's Australian ShipAustralia, and two destroyers, theRenownmade a fine weather voyage to Sydney from Tasmania. After crossing the Bass Strait the course was close inshore along the beautifully wooded hills of New South Wales, and boats laden with people put out from the small whaling port of Eden to greet the Prince. Loyal messages were also flashed from homesteads further up the coast when theRenowncame in sight, transmitted by men, now back in their homes, who had learnt to signal in France or Gallipoli. Entering Sydney harbour, numbers of yachts and launches were found waiting in the fairway to welcome the flotilla, the scene being almost as gay as when the Prince first arrived at this wonderful port. The wharf also demonstrated the interest felt in the arrival. It was loaded with people whose cheers were undiminished as the Prince went his way to the station, where he proceeded at once to entrain for Queensland.
The rail journey northwards produced some of the most remarkable experiences of the tour, experiences the more notable for occurring in States where public sentiment is perhaps more markedly democratic than anywhere else in Australia. The first stop of any consequence was atthe coal-mining town of High Street. Here the Prince was taken by car in procession through decorated streets, lined with people twenty deep the whole way. The objective was the neighbouring railway station of West Maitland, where H.R.H. was to rejoin the train, and where he found an enormous crowd of miners and their wives and children, who gave him a rousing welcome. He shook hands with three hundred returned men, also with a pathetically long line of mothers, widows, and orphans of fallen soldiers, and he inspected a big gathering of school-children.
A picturesque figure occupied a place in the crowd on the road between High Street and West Maitland, a native Australian woman in flowing robes, with a golden crown on her head, who was the head of a local tribe of blacks. Standing beside her was a full-blooded son, who had lost a leg in France, whither he had gone in company with white squatters, amongst whom, prior to this, he had presumably been a stockman. She added to her memories and her dignities a word with the Prince of Wales.
Beyond West Maitland the route passed through fine park-like country, with wooded hills and cultivated valleys, plainly visible in the bright moonlight which had succeeded a typically balmy New South Wales winter's day. The train stopped and receptions were held at various minor centres, including Murrurundi, a place full of the romantic associations of a bygone generation, when this part of Australia was still a land of bush, broken only by very occasional squatters' cabins and mining camps. As the Prince stood on a gaily decorated platform outside the station with orderly lines of returned men and neatly dressed lady war-workers beside him, one's mind went back to wilder scenes, enacted many yearsago. A grey-headed man told how, on almost exactly this spot, a bush-ranger had been shot, after long eluding capture with the help of his sister, who was a waitress at the local drinking saloon, whence she used to ride out to his hiding-place at night in the hills, upon a horse borrowed from race-stables near by. In this way information and supplies were communicated to him, the midnight journeyings upon the borrowed thoroughbred not being brought to light until the time came round for the annual race-gathering, when the mud and sweat of its condition attracted attention. What became of the girl, my informant did not know, but she was honoured in the story if not in the incident.
Wallangarra, the border station between New South Wales and Queensland, was reached the following morning, when the Prince again had the modified excitement of changing gauges. Here he bade farewell to Mr. Hodgson, who had acted throughout the tour in charge of the railways of New South Wales. He was welcomed by a distinguished group of officials representing Queensland, who came on board the train. The Premier, the Hon. Mr. E. G. Theodore, was at that moment on public business in London on behalf of the Queensland Government; the Governor, Sir Hamilton Gould Adams, had recently retired. Their places were filled by Mr. Fihelly, acting Premier, and Mr. Lennon, acting Governor, pending the arrival of Sir Matthew Nathan from England.
From the border the track climbed steadily to the top of a pleasant wooded plateau, three thousand feet above sea level, dotted with rich orchards and gardens, which are being opened up in increasing numbers and of late at rapidly advancing land prices. It is difficult torealize at first sight how the fruit-trees manage to take root. Some of the very richest and most sought after plots are a mass of tumbled rocks amongst which there seems room for nothing to grow, yet it is just amongst these rocks that the very finest peaches and apples are raised.
A newly constructed branch line carried the party to the returned soldiers' settlement of Amiens. Here a cheerful crowd of some two hundred Australians and British had assembled, accompanied by wives and babies, the wives in a surprisingly large percentage of cases from England, and the babies some of the healthiest looking imaginable. The Prince would have liked to spend some time in this settlement, but an inexorable programme hurried him away. He had time, however, to hear a great deal about the felling, burning and clearing up of string-bark forest, the fencing and ploughing of the land, also the planting of it with fruit-trees of the finest stocks. He also saw a number of comfortable bungalows each with the amenity of a roomy veranda, in which the settlers live. Ten acres of good soil were considered a sufficiently large holding to keep one man employed, and each place is arranged to include this area, apart from rocky or water-logged portions. The average out-turn of such a holding, when planted with suitable trees of six years' growth, is estimated, with prevailing fruit prices, at £700 per annum. Returned men, accepted by the local agricultural authorities as likely to succeed on such properties, and irrespective of whether they are from Australian or British units, are able to obtain advances, as they may require them, up to a total of £625, against work done upon their places. These advances are repayable in easy instalments, spreadover long series of years, at about five per cent. interest, which is less than the money at present costs to provide. Most of the holdings, when seen by the Prince, were only partially cleared and planted. The men were hopeful of pulling through, however, until the trees should come into bearing, their pensions and advances, eked out by the growing of tomatoes, potatoes and other vegetables, for which there appeared to be considerable local demand at remunerative prices, being considered sufficient to keep them. Once the trees come into bearing their owners can reasonably expect to do quite well. The authorities estimated that, in the ordinary course, a man should be able to pay off all indebtedness within ten years, after which he would find himself the absolute owner of an unencumbered property, capable of indefinite expansion by taking up more land, and even without any expansion, sufficient to support the settler and his wife and children in conditions of comparative comfort.
The life on these holdings is in the open air, in a sunny climate, without any extremes of temperature, amongst beautiful natural surroundings, and in an atmosphere so bracing that these well-watered uplands have long been utilized as a health resort. The breaking in of the holdings is, no doubt, very hard work, and here the Government advances make it possible to pay for help in the case of men unequal to do the whole of it themselves. Once this has been done, the work that remains, of cultivating, manuring, pruning, and spraying the trees, and of picking and packing the fruit, is very much less strenuous; and for those prepared for a life in the open air where country pursuitsreplace the feverish interests of the city, the prospect seems almost ideal. Certainly those we saw entering upon it gave the very pleasantest impression. The man will, of course, do best who possesses those qualities which make him the lender, instead of the borrower, of the stump-puller, and the purveyor, instead of the buyer, of tinned luxuries at the co-operative shop and packing establishment. For all, however, there seems to be a living under conditions which must certainly be considered favourable.
The sun was getting low when the Royal train pulled up at Warwick, a prosperous city in the breezy uplands of the Darling Downs two thousand feet above the sea level, home of sheep, mixed farming and white-stemmed forest trees. Here in the Central park, commanding a beautiful view of blue distant mountains, the entire population had assembled and the usual civic address was presented.
I talked with two of the residents, both men from the Thames Valley, one a doctor, and the other a chauffeur. They agreed in not even considering the idea of going back to the old country. This part of Queensland, they said, was a place where it was easy to make a living, an its warmth and sunshine were delightful after the English winters of which so little can be safely predicted. They would not admit that the summer was too hot, or that the drought from which this part of Australia had only recently suffered had been more than a very temporary setback in the steady growth of continually increasing prosperity.
The train halted for the night in open upland country, with delightful bracing air, one of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seenpainting a clear evening sky. The following morning, in warm brilliant sunshine, the track crept down the wooded slopes that gird in the Darling Downs, and emerged in the rich cultivated Lockyer plain below. Here fine red cattle were feeding down magnificent crops, six inches up, of green luscious oats, the settlers considering that this somewhat remarkable procedure increases the ultimate harvest of grain, by causing the young plants to stool out.
Beyond the Lockyer plain the route lay through the Liverpool hills whence it descended, by easy gradient, to Brisbane and the sea. Not a station, a village or a house upon the way, but was gay with decorations. The inhabitants were out upon all sides, on horseback, in buggies, in cars, or seated upon fence rails, every man of them hat in hand, every woman and girl a-smile, every child wide-eyed with excitement. Operatives cutting down trees, navvies shovelling ballast upon the railway track, farmers plowing their fields, husbandmen pruning their orchards, stopped work and saluted or shouted a welcome as the train went by. Boys raced beside the Royal saloon in youthful endeavour to keep up. Not a churlish glance, nor an indifferent face, was seen for a hundred miles.
Brisbane first presented itself in the shape of pleasant garden suburbs full of wooden houses on stilts, each surrounded by a garden of flowers. It developed, as the train rushed on, into the solid masonry of a closely built city. The heartsome sound of cheering accompanied all the way. Arrived at the railway station, H.R.H. was welcomed with every formality. The State Premier, the whole of the Cabinet, the Mayor andthe city Council, received him on the platform. Naval and military guards-of-honour were in attendance. The usual procession of motor-cars was ultimately in motion, and carried the visitor through several miles of streets, in which elaborately decorated arches, made of wool bales, fruit, vegetables, and corn-sheaves, gave homely, delightful, convincing character to their setting. Crowds lined the entire route and gave the Prince a welcome the warmth of which was equal to that of any he had previously received. The way was kept by returned men, and long lines of women war-workers, including nurses and helpers of every kind, formed a solid wall of white on either side of the route for at least a quarter of a mile.
In the Albert Square Mayor Maxwell read an address of welcome. At the University pretty girl-students, in black caps and gowns, raced one another across the grounds to get a second view of the Prince after they had stood demurely at attention as he went past. On the grassy slopes of the wide Domain beside the river, backed by an assemblage of ten thousand delighted school-children, the Prince reviewed the men who had been keeping the route through the city. To render this possible every detachment had closed up and followed the procession after the cars had passed. In this way were gathered some two thousand men representing every arm of the service. The designations of the First, Second, Third, Fourth, and Fifth Australian Divisions were in evidence on the flags carried past the saluting point.
Another interesting occasion during the visit to Brisbane was the local agricultural exhibition, which never, in the long history of this popular institution, had been so crowded, the principal stores andother business establishments having all been closed in honour of the occasion. The proceedings began with a procession through the wool, wheat, sugar-cane, fruit, butter, cheese, pig, and cattle exhibitions halls, the Prince and members of the committee making slow progress in the crowds of cheering spectators. The afternoon was devoted to a parade of prize-winning cattle and horses. This was held in a big amphitheatre—seventy years ago the crude "Bora," sacred initiation ground, of Queensland savages, now the beautifully turfed show-ring of the National Agricultural Association. Here, in the presence of some seventy thousand spectators, the Prince saw some very fine jumping, not devoid of minor mishaps. He himself ran to help to pick up a girl whose mount came down at one of the fences. By this time it will be noted that it was impossible to keep H.R.H. out of any kind of incident not strictly arranged for. He also assisted at an attempt, not the less interesting because it just failed of success, to lower the mile trotting-record of the track.
Leaving the show in the afternoon, the Prince proceeded, in company with the acting Premier and the Lieutenant-Governor, to Farm Park, where he took tea upon the grass with the Mayor and Aldermen of Brisbane, in the midst of thousands of spectators. So closely was the civic tea-table surrounded that the red cross nurses, to whom fell the duty of waiting on the Royal party, scarcely had room to perform their functions. The number of cups and spoons and other articles that became heirlooms in 1920 for the benefit of Australasian posterity must be considerable. The Prince was eventually extracted from the crush, and embarked, amidstmuch cheering and hand-clapping, upon one of numerous decorated motor-boats which took him, attended by a flock of yachts, across the wide Brisbane river, in the yellow sunset, on a visit to invalid soldiers in the fine "Anzac" Hospital on the other side.
Another notable function in Brisbane was the state dinner, at which representative men from every part of Queensland were present, some four hundred sitting down. The Prince was between the acting Premier and the Lieutenant-Governor. The Papal representative, Monsignor Cattaneo, occupied a seat on the other side of the Lieutenant-Governor. Others present included the Anglican Bishop, the members of the State Cabinet and the Legislative Council, and the Chief Justice. The streets outside were densely packed with people, who became so insistent in cheering after the Prince had got inside that he left the banquet to wave to them from the balcony. Mr. Fihelly, in proposing the toast of the evening, emphasized that their Royal guest had endeared himself to all with whom he had come in contact, and had been found to be "a man of parts, a man of ability, able to take his place amongst men, and one who would carry away with him the goodwill of all the people of Queensland."
Mr. Vowles, Nationalist Leader of the Opposition, spoke in similarly loyal tone. The Prince rose to reply amidst cheers, and developed his points in a voice which his hearers noticed had now recovered its clearness and resonance. In the course of a long and enthusiastically received speech he dwelt upon the wonderful reception he had had, the pleasure his visit had given him, and especially on the large part taken in the receptions by returned sailors, soldiers and women war-workers.Referring to the soldier settlement he had visited on his way to Brisbane, he congratulated the Queensland Government on the foresight and energy with which they had tackled the repatriations problems. "You cannot do too much," he said, "for your diggers, who played such a big part in saving the Empire, and who should be looked upon as the backbone of the Commonwealth.... My tour in Australia, alas!" he continued, "is nearly over. It is particularly to the future of the Commonwealth that my thoughts turn. My visit to Australia has taught me that the spirit wherein your diggers volunteered, and fought and won, is not something unique or out of the way, which will never happen again, but the natural outcome of a national spirit which is going to make Australia one of the great progressive nations of the world. Their free and gallant services in the war have shown to yourselves, to the Empire and to the world what you are and what you can do. With such a spirit in its men and women Australia has a splendid future in its grasp. I came to Australia already feeling a strong bond of comradeship with your troops: I shall leave it feeling even a stronger bond of comradeship with the Australian people as a whole, and my heart will always be with them in their mighty task of building up the solid British fabric of freedom, justice and security with fair play for all upon this vast continent."
Another of the Brisbane functions was a popular reception in the public gardens overlooking the river. Here some thousands of people passed before the Prince, who stood upon a dais, the acting Premier beside him. Girls presented bouquets of flowers. Men and women stopped to wish himgood luck on his homeward voyage, or to photograph him at close quarters. Here and there an old-fashioned curtsy would be dropped, or cheering or hand-clapping started. The great majority of the people expressed themselves in a simple nod or smile, or waved hand or hat or handkerchief as they went by. One could not help recognizing, not only that they had taken the Prince to their hearts, but that while paying him the great compliment of ceasing to treat him with formality, there was no diminution in the deference that was shown. When he left the reception he went back to his quarters in Parliament Buildings, where, marching up and down, were armed cadets in full service kit, volunteers from districts it had not been possible for the Prince to visit, their expenses all paid by local subscriptions. There was no serious necessity for the services of these young warriors, but they represented the universal determination of North-Eastern Australia that "our Prince," as by this time he had begun to be called, should lose nothing of pomp or Royal circumstance while he remained the guest of their State.
Before the Prince left, Monsignor Cattaneo, Apostolic Delegate, and the Very Reverend M. Duhig, Catholic Archbishop of Queensland, asked and obtained an interview at which they formally presented "the homage and devotion to the throne of the whole Catholic community of Australia." They dwelt upon the deep loyalty of this community and declared that the Prince had won all their hearts.
In the course of his visit to Brisbane H.R.H. was shown State factories, State shops, State insurance offices, and State markets in full operation, a class of enterprise under experiment in natural conditions so favourable as to give it at least a sporting chance. He also heardmuch of the sugar-cane, coco-nut-palm and banana plantations, and the enormous cattle ranges of the northern territories where Queensland rolls away into the tropics and there is rich land and to spare for a population as large as that of France.
Leaving Brisbane one day during his visit to that city, the Prince proceeded by train through a well-wooded country of rich black soil, just then a quagmire from heavy but welcome rain. He touched at a number of centres, including Ipswich, head-quarters of woollen mills and coal-mines, and Harrisville and Boonah, country towns where farming and pastoral communities predominate. Every stopping-place had been converted by unpaid local labour into a beflagged forest of greenery, in the midst of which the inhabitants of the entire neighbourhood, also many from far distant stations, had assembled. At Ipswich the streets were lined by operatives and miners, and the welcome of this important place included a car procession through decorated streets, a popular reception, a mayoral address, and a civic luncheon served to the strains of one of the largest and best trained choirs in the State. Vocal music as the accompaniment of food was an unaccustomed luxury to many of those present, but it did not appear to interfere with the general appetite. At Boonah the proceedings were simpler but not on that account less impressive, although they took place in a pelting rainstorm. The Prince waded through an ankle-deep stream of flood-water to an exposed platform, where, surrounded by a crowd of squatters, stockmen, farmers and their families, including large numbers of women and children, allstanding in the downpour with streaming mackintoshes and umbrellas, he unveiled a fine marble war-memorial bearing three hundred names. He also shook hands with relatives of the fallen, and with numbers of returned men, nurses and other war-workers.
On the way back to Brisbane further centres were visited. Amongst them were Maryborough, a manufacturing and coal-mining city, where the steel skeletons of two twelve-thousand-ton steamers, under construction for the Commonwealth Government, towered amidst the decorations. One of the arches was surmounted by a group of blacks in native costume, armed with bows, arrows and spears, which they wielded realistically. Another carried a dozen diggers in uniform. Other places visited were Tiaro, where the assemblage that greeted the Prince consisted chiefly of agriculturalists; Gympie, where the returned men, assembled in a war-memorial park, included gold-miners as well as farmers; Cooroy, where the Prince made the acquaintance of a large logging community; Landsborough, where sugar-cane planters, and banana and orange-growers preponderated, and Beerburrum, Queensland's biggest soldier settlement, where he shook hands with a large number of returned men engaged in growing pineapples.
The Prince finally left Brisbane amidst unforgettable scenes of national enthusiasm and emotion. The entire population of the city seemed to be in the streets. The neighbourhood of the railway station was blocked by masses of cheering men, women and children. The railway station buildings were besieged, the more influential folk, including the members of the State Government, and their families, thronged the platform. The general public crowded windows, balconies, culverts,overbridges, and fences, wherever a glimpse of the train could be obtained. The start had to be three times postponed, so many were the Prince's personal farewells. After the train got into motion, motor-cars raced beside the track, school-children were found lined up at wayside crossings, stumps and telegraph poles were perching places for daring climbers. Everybody waved something, if it were not a handkerchief, a flag or a hat, it was the nearest thing to hand. I saw a vegetable hawker wildly flourishing his biggest cabbage, a housewife excitedly using a tablecloth as a signal of affection, a company of railway carriage-cleaners throwing their dusters upon the wind. Workmen in overalls, carters with teams of horses, stockmen riding to their duties stopped and doffed hats as the train went by. "Old Lang Syne" was taken up, again and again, by thousands of voices, to be itself drowned in a chorus of shouted "Goodbyes." All the Members of the Cabinet travelled upon the Royal train as far as the border of the State. The acting Premier had to stay behind for urgent public reasons, but was so determined not to be left out of the proceedings that he attempted to follow the train in an aeroplane, and was only stopped by crashing heavily. The demonstration was so remarkable that even the Queenslanders themselves were astonished at it. Enthusiasm had taken possession of this democratic people, and there seemed to be no length to which they were not prepared to go. Here was a country where the people are as sovereign as anywhere on earth. Yet wayside villages and towns on the southward journey, one after another, took up and repeated Brisbane's farewell demonstrations. The crowds at the railway stations, whereaddresses were presented, included in many instances definitely more people than the entire population of the immediate centre, this being due to farmers, squatters, and settlers bringing their families incredible distances by train, by motor, in buggies, or on horseback, so that they might not miss the occasion. In one case four well-mounted girls galloped astride nearly a mile, keeping abreast with the train, and arriving at the next station, where an address was to be read, just as the Prince alighted. Their spirited ride secured them a handshake and a compliment.
The train halted for the night at Toowoomba, in the heart of a wonderful agricultural region, which was found smiling under splendid crops. Here the countryside had long been preparing for the Prince's coming, and the celebrations were of the liveliest, everything, including decorations, gathering of returned men, civic banquet, and ball, being planned to create a record.
The following morning the Prince recrossed the border, over a carpet woven of yellow wattle flowers. It was a pretty thought and offered him much.
When the Prince left Queensland he had practically completed his official tour of the Australian States. There remained for him the improvised series of visits to the back-blocks of New South Wales, which took the place of the abandoned journey to New Guinea. Here he stayed in the houses of squatters, some of them controlling sheep-runs hundreds of thousands of acres in extent, and mingled in the most informal manner in country life and country pastimes. In the wonderful air of this region he regained much of the spring and energy he had lost in the preceding months of strenuous official touring. The Government officers on the Royal train meanwhile returned to Sydney.
The route taken by the Prince after leaving Wallangarra for the interior lay through beautiful scenery across the famous Blue Mountains. One looked out, as the train climbed upwards, across vast stretches of green-forested gorges and grey crags of fluted limestone, with purple and aquamarine ridges on the far horizon—a land filled only with the colour and the form of wild nature. The Prince started on the foot-plate of the engine, which he drove himself up a one-in-thirty-three grade slope. Although his journey was now entirely unofficial, numbers of people assembled and cheered him at the principal stations. At Lawson he alighted and shook hands with returned men, including Private Duncan Allan, the oldest soldier in the Australian forces. Later on, crossing the open Bathurst sheep-downs, a halt was made at the wayside station of Kelso, where horses were in waiting and he took, in the rain, a brisk ride across country, rejoining the train that evening at Bathurst.