bourke — we prepare for a row of 1,500 miles — river steamers — the darling river — wilcannia — weinteriga — menindie — the ‘decoy’
after our long absence from any big town, there was something almost terrifying about the size of bourke. her streets, with their metropolitan air, her shops and palatial banks, to say nothing of our hotel with its obsequious waiters, quite overpowered us. when we arrived, our appearances did not say much in our favour. the long’un was by many degrees the more presentable, but he was by no means decent; as for me i was outside the pale altogether. my one remaining shirt had lost both its arms; my moleskin trousers were a mass of shreds and patches, and my boots had their soles wired on. my pith helmet was a sight to see, and weep over! at first sight we looked a precious pair of ruffians, and it was only when we had explained matters, that the landlord consented to take us in at all.
as soon as we had stabled cyclops and polyphemus, we set out for the post office, obtained our letters, discovered our bank, cashed our drafts, and then repaired in haste to a tailor’s shop, where we arrayed ourselves to the best of our ability in ready-made clothing. it is wonderful what a difference a suit of clothes makes to a man’s pluck. when we entered the shop we felt the poorest pair of mortals in the whole of australia, but when we came out in our new rigs, we would have passed the time of day to the governor himself. thus poverty makes cowards of us all.
bourke, for so far west, is a fine town, built on the west bank of the darling elver, and is connected with sydney by rail. though a long distance from the capital, it possesses all the advantages of the most up to date civilisation. it has its school of arts, theatre, rowing, racing, and tennis clubs, swimming baths, etc., and a population of 3,149 souls, out of which number enough can be gleaned to make up a refined and intellectual society.
as other proofs of its civilisation, on a vacant piece of land opposite our hotel, when we arrived, a steam merry-go-round, in full swing of business, was making night hideous with ‘ta-ra-ra-boomdeay’ (an air whose acquaintance we made for the first time); while, in a bank dining room hard by, we could see, from our window, a dinner party proceeding with all the ceremony of a similar function in park lane or pott’s point. according to the advertisements ibsen’s ‘doll’s house’ was being played at the bijou theatre, while a prize fight was being conducted at a hall within easy distance. as a bourke resident observed when i drew his attention to these things, ‘you certainly can’t say we’re behind the times!’
the following morning, soon after breakfast, a gentleman called upon us, with a view of relieving us of our horses and much enduring buggy. accordingly, after taking the opportunity of having them photographed, we bade a reluctant farewell to the two faithful animals who had been our companions for so long a distance, and in so many hours of bitter trouble and privation. we both experienced a real feeling of sorrow in saying farewell to them; and we were glad to hear they were likely to be kindly treated. the buyer intended to give them a holiday for a month or two, and then to start them back a considerable distance on their tracks into queensland. had we been able to afford it we should have pensioned them off, but as we were almost as poor as they, it was useless to think of such a thing.
that business concluded, we sought the river bank and inquired among the boatmen there for a rowing boat in which to continue our journey for the next fifteen hundred miles. owing, however, to the late disastrous flood, and the fact that there was every prospect of another (for the river was rising rapidly), we had considerable difficulty in hearing of one. but money overcomes most difficulties, and the bribe of a couple of drinks brought us a man, who knew a man, who knew another man who had an old boat, he had made himself, for sale. our informant, for another consideration, volunteered to row us up the river to have a look at her.
she was certainly far from handsome, but for that matter neither were our horses nor buggy, yet they had proved themselves good bargains. we examined her carefully, and finding it was almost a case of hobson’s choice, purchased her for about twice as much as she had been worth when new.
the heat was tremendous, and as we knew we should be compelled to lie out in mid-stream on our down river journey, we resolved to fix up some sort of an awning before’ we started. this we accomplished with two cart tilts and a yard or two of canvas, making an admirable shade. by sundown, our preparations were completed; then, having laid in a large amount of stores, and accepted the good wishes of our new made friends, we pushed out into mid-stream, and started on our long row.
fortunately the river was in high flood, and in consequence the current ran briskly. we took things easily, the rowing especially, and until the novelty wore off, and we had to work in downright earnest, enjoyed the change hugely. then the reflection that so many miles had to be accomplished between sunrise and sunset every day, began to assert itself, and as it did, our pleasure in the exercise diminished.
for the first twenty miles or so out of bourke we had constant companions in the fishermen who lined the banks. the lives of these gentry must be monotonous beyond all idea too lazy to do real work, they manage to knock out sufficient money to keep them in the bare necessaries of life by fishing for murray cod — a fine big fish and remarkably good eating. first cousins to these men are the ‘darling whalers,’ as they are called: idle, loafing, thieving tramps, somewhat after the fashion of the ‘travellers’ in north queensland, who move up and down the river (up one bank and down the other), from year’s end to year’s end, doing no work and depending for their existence upon the charity of the unfortunate squatter. when they can’t steal from him they practise on each other, and these are the gentry who generally promote, and invariably assist in, the strikes, wool-shed burnings, bush fires, horse and sheep stealing, and other little pleasantries of a like description. a ‘darling whaler’ is, if anything, lower than the ‘traveller,’ who is lower than the scum of the earth, and even in saying that you are paying both of them too high a compliment!
from bourke downwards the river is a noble stream (i am speaking of it as it was at the time of our journey), in places many miles in width. the bends are very numerous, and horribly annoying, the river proper running for the first eight hundred miles as much as three miles of water to every one of land. fortunately for us, its usual high mud-banks were almost entirely submerged, and this with the great forest gums, half hidden under water, gave it a most strange, yet picturesque effect. save for the discordant shrieks of the cockatoos in the trees overhead, a wonderful quiet reigned; the splashing of our oars sounded strangely loud in the stillness, and a steamer’s panting could be heard many miles away, as plainly as if she were only round the bend. these river steamers, and the men they employ, are strange concerns. in good seasons they trade right away from goolwa in south australia, to walgett, above bourke, in new south wales, a distance of something like 2,345 miles. in construction they are flat-bottomed, absurdly wide-beamed, two or three decked, paddle — wheeled tubs, steered from a bridge, and driven, in most instances, by ordinary traction engines, balanced and secured amidships. they are manned by a captain, mate, engineer, and half a dozen hands, and not unfrequently they tow two large barges behind them. a steamer heavily loaded, and towing two barges crammed with wool, swinging round the bend, is a sight worth going a long way to see; and when anything goes wrong, and the captain expresses himself according to his native instinct, it is as good as a crystal palace firework display.
the captains are great heroes, and carry more silver mounted dignity than a page-boy in a new livery, or a curate in his first canonicals. when they bring their boat up to a township, all that township has got to know about it, or something breaks. it’s the ambition of every boy along the darling banks to be a river captain, and if that is impossible, to be a supercargo. this is the individual who hangs around and talks affably to the captain as they wharf up, just for all the world as if he owned the whole boat, flag-post, painted name board, and all.
in this fashion, for weeks together, we continued our journey, sometimes resting at stations, but in most instances camping out on the river banks. talking of camping-out on darling banks reminds me of the gratitude we continually expressed for having brought our mosquito nets. anything like the darling mosquitoes i have never met with elsewhere; they’re as big as camels, and twice as ugly. they seem to bite at the rate of a thousand bites a minute, and each bite brings up a lump as big as a pigeon’s egg — almost 1 then you scratch them (the bumps, not the mosquitoes), and that makes them worse, after which, if there’s nothing wrong with your constitution, and there have been no defects in your education, you swear, or employ a professional to do it for you. a grey mosquito will, as i have just said, raise a lump like a pigeon’s egg, and profanity as big as a church. he’s also no respecter of persons — he’d just as soon bite a bishop as a pig-stealer. apart from these annoyances camping on the river is delightful.
it is pleasant in the stillness of the night, lying out on the bank, to hear in the distance the low panting of a steamer coming up against the stream. first you think you hear it, then you think you don’t. then your companion declares it to be a bullfrog, and you lose your temper contradicting him. but bit by bit the noise draws closer, the panting grows every moment more distinct, then round the bend glare two enormous red eyes, which you know to be her bridge lamps. after that she appears to be stationary for some time, but at length, with a great churning noise and a long trail of sparks, she comes slowly up, grunts and groans majestically by, turns the corner, and that is the last you see of her. the noise of her engines gradually grows more and more faint, and then you curl up in your blankets and once more fall asleep.
strange to say, for the first two or three hundred miles of our river journey, game was none too plentiful, though a few wild duck could now and again be obtained; owing to the height of the river the majority had migrated on to the lagoons in the back country. to our surprise, also, we saw but few rabbits, in spite of all we had heard of their depredations. but we were to have greater experience of them anon.
after a pleasant rest at dunlop, one of the finest properties along the whole length of the river, and renowned for its wonderful wool-shed, magnificent head station, and three fine artesian bores, we proceeded on again. two days later, we had the good fortune to be taken on board by a trading steamer, the ‘florence annie,’ and given a free passage to wilcannia township, the halfway house of our darling journey. verily these bushmen are a hospitable folk. it was an enjoyable voyage, and the owner, mr. brown, proved a most courteous, interesting, and agreeable man. from him we learnt much of the history of the river.
wilcannia is a nice little township, situated on the river bank, and possesses a population of 1,287 souls. it boasts a few nice buildings, and its tree-planted streets give it a charming effect. it is from wilcannia that the camel teams start west with stores, and, in fact, it is to the existence of the river, and the fact of being the depot for the west, that it alone owes its existence. a coach runs twice weekly up the river to bourke, another down the river to wentworth, and still another across country via menindie, to famous broken hill. numerous passenger steamers, such as they are, also ply between the smaller river townships.
during our stay in wilcannia we had the pleasure of the acquaintance of the postmaster, mr. holding, a most interesting and well informed gentleman, to whose kindness we owe more than we can ever repay: also that of mr. doake, a wilcannia merchant. both these gentlemen are great authorities on the river generally, and talk with considerable warmth about the undoubted future which lies before the darling valley. indeed, it would appear that the wealth of the valley, in its soil, is boundless; its capabilities cannot be even guessed at. to understand something of its powers one must see what results can be obtained even by limited irrigation.
while i write, a scheme is under consideration for locking and conserving the waters of this enormous river. when this is accomplished, we may indeed expect great results to follow. there is nothing, so i have been confidently assured, that the soil will not produce, from wheat to tobacco, and we may therefore look forward to the time when the whole valley, now so bleak and lonesome, will teem with agriculture; to the time when, in place of the few isolated station houses which now dot the river bank, mile after mile of happy homes will be seen nestling among revenue returning vegetation. the river is there, the soil is there, and before very long we have every right to expect that the people and the vegetation will be there also.
from wilcannia we pulled on to weinteriga station, the property of an old friend, mr. george riddoch. here we intended to remain for some time, to recruit after our eight hundred mile row. and indeed it was a pleasant place to spell awhile in. every thing that the kindness of the hospitable manager and his wife could devise for our comfort was done, and it will be long before we forget the happy time we spent at this station. here we had a good opportunity of studying the rabbit plague in all its bearings, and many and strange were the stories told of these pests. let us consider the question.
at first thought it would seem an easy thing for four governments, with unlimited capital at their command, to cope with poor simple little bunny, and finally to exterminate him altogether. and yet every possible remedy has been tried, by the colonies of south australia, victoria, new south wales, and queensland; and what is worse, tried without success.
the havoc the rabbits liave wrought exceeds all belief. on driving through the scrub the grass is seen to be completely devoured, nearly every tree and bush has been barked by their fatal little teeth, while, not in one but in hundreds of instances, they might be observed hanging dead in the forks, having climbed up in search of food and, like absalom, got caught among the branches. it is a case of the survival of the fittest; the rabbit who can’t climb dies, and it is a question for the scientists whether or not this new propensity will have any effect on the future breed; possibly, they may become solely tree-climbing animals.
one of the most effectual methods of exterminating them is to poison the water they drink, for australian bunny is a thirsty little beast. the process is as follows. a dam or tank is chosen in a spot where the rabbits are most plentiful, and where they have to depend entirely on this tank for their drinking supply. close meshed netting is then placed round it, only to be opened when the sheep of the paddock are allowed in to drink. for two or three days the rabbits are deprived altogether of water, and come to the verge of perishing. then a long narrow trench is dug just outside the dam. this is filled with arsenic and water, wire netted all round above six inches from the ground, to prevent the sheep getting to the poisoned fluid. towards evening the rabbits make their appearance, hopping and scurrying all over the plain in countless millions. they come to drink and remain to die, leaping over each other in their anxiety to get to the water. before morning thousands are poisoned, and the ground, for acres round the pool, is covered layers deep with dead and dying. this seems to have proved, up to the present, by far the best method of dealing with them. at one period i learned that no less than a hundred million acres were infested, on which 25,280,000 rabbits were destroyed in twelve months; while over a million pounds has been spent by the governments of three most infected colonies in the struggle. the following were the exact figures up to march 1893:—
￡
new south wales 737,000
victoria 210,342
south australia 297,000
total ￡1,241,342
wire netting has been used extensively for fencing, the description being 17 gauge, 1? inch mesh, and 42 inches in width. in new south wales one uninterrupted line extends from narramine on the macquarie river, to bourke, on the darling, a distance of 207 miles, thence to barringun a further length of 84 miles, at an average cost of s2l a mile. another fence has been constructed from the murray river northward, along the western boundary of the colony, a distance of 346 miles. the cost of this alone was 26.135l., or on an average, 75l. 10s. 8d, per mile. the colony of queensland has netted all her southern border line, from the sea coast to haddons corner; and beside these government fences, almost every pastoralist has protected his own property at a similar enormous expense. it would be thought that these precautions would check the ravages of the pests. but not a bit of it; bunny simply climbs the fence with the utmost unconcern, and continues his work of destruction on the other side. and where he once settles it is impossible for sheep to live. he eats them out of house and home, and when he has finished all there is upon the ground, as i have said, he climbs the trees and lives upon the branches. it has been computed that one pair of rabbits may be the progenitors of 3,000,000 in three years. if this be so, what will be the progeny of three hundred million pairs in the same space of time? it’s a pretty little calculation!
on many stations along the darling there is no escaping them; they rifle the gardens, climb the netting and raid the lucerne patches. you find them in the verandah, in the dining-room, and even in your bedroom under your bed. government has a standing reward of five thousand pounds for a remedy against them, and thousands have tried to obtain it, pasteur among the number. one of the ablest ideas was that of an old lady in wagga, who suggested strewing about pieces of apple covered with cayenne pepper, so that bunny should eat, sneeze, and dislocate his vertebras. she is wondering to this day, they tell me, why the prize was not awarded her. but to return to my log-book.
after a good rest among the kind folk of weinteriga station and the surrounding neighbourhood, we disposed of our boat and took passage aboard the ‘decoy’ steamer for wentworth. it was not customary for this steamer to carry passengers, but as a great favour the captain consented to take us on board, and we hope he did not regret it.
the ‘decoy’ is a well built, handsome boat, originally imported for conveying cattle up and down the darling. her captain, a smart, active man, proved to be well informed about the river, and was not averse to giving us the benefit of his knowledge.
on the night of the day following our farewell to weinteriga we reached menindie, a tiny township perched on an awful red sandbank overlooking the river, and. as dreary and monotonous a spot, even in the moonlight, as could well be found on the face of the earth. it reminded us of windorah more than any other place, and for that reason, if for no other, did not find favour in our eyes. we tied up to the bank for the night (boats proceeding down stream with barges, of which we had two, usually tie up at night), and with the captain went ashore to investigate. there was nothing to be heard, and still less to be seen, so we returned on board at an early hour and amused ourselves for the rest of the evening, comparing bumps and swearing at the mosquitoes.
next morning at daylight we proceeded on our way again, stopping, after we had gone about ten miles, to wood up. these wood piles are often the commencement of small townships, and the lives of the wood-cutters must be desolate in the extreme. everyone lends a hand to get wood on board, and it’s just as well to keep your weather eye lifted for snakes whilst so doing. a snake is no respecter of persons, and it is annoying to be bitten when hundreds of miles away from a doctor. besides, not unfrequently you die!
sometimes, but not often, we passed other steamers. when we did, greetings were most cordially bellowed between the boats.
and so our days jogged quietly by, finding us occupied for the most part in reading, yarning, sleeping, and smoking. the heat was intense, alternating between 100 and 114° in the shade of the wheel house. certainly the most interesting thing about the journey was the navigation. this is a matter to marvel over, for a good skipper has to be intimately acquainted with every current, shoal, snag, rock, and sandbank in the whole length of this ever changing, ever curving river, and for a distance of something like two thousand miles. the working of the barges is in itself quite an art, and our skipper was a perfect master of both branches of his trade.. moreover he was chock full of stories of the river, and at night when the boat was safely tied up, and he free for conversation, he liked nothing better than to tell them.
every evening, also, as soon as we were made fast, we made it a custom to take a plunge overboard. then the full moon peering through the lofty tree-tops, the smooth flowing river, and the steamer and barges alongside the bank, showed us an exceedingly pretty picture. another of our amusements was, towards evening, to seat ourselves on one of the paddle boxes and watch our chinese cook slaughter our next day’s dinner. he was a fine fellow, this cook, and had once been steward aboard a mail-boat running between hong kong and london, a fact of which he was inordinately vain. his description of the lord mayor’s show, in pigeon english, would have made a cat laugh !
the further we progressed down stream, the nearer the stations came together. we could not help being struck with the wonderful growth (the result of irrigation) exhibited in the gardens. it almost exceeded belief. sometimes we would stop an hour or so to land goods or to take in wool, when we were permitted an opportunity of examining into these marvels for ourselves. irrigation is undoubtedly the watchword of the darling valley!
but at length, as all things must, our pleasant voyage came to an end. ahead of us we could discern the outlying houses of the township of wentworth. a few minutes later we were in full view of the township itself, had passed under the wonderful new bridge, and drawn up to the river bank below the town wharf.
as soon as the gang plank was out, a gentlemanly youth came aboard and uttered my name. introducing himself, he handed me a telegram from the messrs. chaffey, giving us an invitation to visit their irrigation colonies on the murray river, and notifying us of the fact that one of their river steamers would call at wentworth, that evening, to convey us to mildura.