AUSTRALIAN 
 LIFE IN TOWN 
 AND COUNTRY 
 
 
 •j< iim* 
 
 ZZ3 
 
 BY E . C . BULE Y 
 
 HBBflfinDHUMaUM 
 
 mma^^jurtritH'.me&ri-yiel 
 

AUSTRALIAN LIFE IN 
 TOWN & COUNTRY 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2008 with funding from 
 
 IVIicrosoft Corporation 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/australianlifeinOOecburich 
 
AUSTRALIAN LIFE IN 
 TOWN & COUNTRY 
 
 BY E. C. BULEY 
 
 WITH TWENTY 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 MCMV 
 
 LONDON: GEORGE NEWNES, LIMITED 
 SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND, W.C. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 f 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. Country and Climate ... ... ... i 
 
 II. Squatters and Stations ... ... ii 
 
 III. Station Work ... ... ... .., 21 
 
 IV. On a Selection ... ... ... 31 
 
 V, The Never-Never Land ... ... ... 41 
 
 VI. On the Wallaby Track ... ... 51 
 
 VII. In Time of Drought ... ... ... 60 
 
 VIII. Urban Australia ... ... ... 70 
 
 IX. Life in the Cities ... ... ... 80 
 
 X. State Socialism and the Labour Party 90 
 
 XI. Industrial Pioneers ... ... ... 99 
 
 XII. Golden Australia ... ... ... 108 
 
 XIII. Farm and Factory ... ... ... 116 
 
 XIV. The Australian Woman ... ... 125 
 
 XV. Home and Social Life ... ... ... 133 
 
 XVI. The Australian at Play ... ... 143 
 
 XVII. The Aborigines ... ... ... ... 152 
 
 253187 
 

 Contents 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 PAGE 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 A White Australia ... ... ... i6i 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Education, Literature, and Art ... ... 170 
 
 XX. 
 
 National Life in Australia ... ... 178 
 
 XXI. 
 
 The Australian ... ... ... ... 188 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Australia's Destiny ... ... ... 197 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Circular Quay, Sydney ... ... Frontispiece 
 
 Dairy Farm in the Mountains ... ... 5 
 
 Mountain Stream in the Bush .,. ... ... 12 
 
 Shearers at work ... ... ... ... 21 
 
 Wool Press in a Shearing Shed ... ... ... 31 
 
 Wayside Inn in the Bush ... ... ... 51 
 
 An Artesian Well ... ... ... ... ... 62 
 
 Wide Main Street of Maryborough, Queensland 97 
 
 A Miner's Hut ... ... ... ... ... 103 
 
 Broken Hill Silver Mines, N.S.W. ... ... 106 
 
 H ANNAN Street, Kalgoorlie, 1894 ... ... ... 112 
 
 Hannan Street, Kalgoorlie, 1904 ... ... 112 
 
 Dryblowing with Two Dishes .. ... ... 115 
 
 Miners in the Stope ... ... ... ... 120 
 
 Townsville—A Queensland Seaport ... ... 126 
 
 Sluicing for Gold ... ... ... ... 147 
 
 Kanaka Women in the Canefields ... ... 158 
 
 Planting Sugar-Cane ... ... ... ... 161 
 
 At work amongst the Cane ... ... ... 168 
 
 State Nursery, tropical Queensland ... ... 197 
 
AUSTRALIAN LIFE IN 
 TOWN & COUNTRY 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 COUNTRY AND CLIMATE 
 
 It has often been claimed for the British that they are 
 a successful colonising people, and this claim has not 
 been advanced without very sufficient grounds. Those 
 who assign this characteristic to the race imply that it 
 possesses, above all things, the faculty of adaptability. 
 If the colonising Briton were not able to suit himself 
 readily to the necessities and the climatic conditions of 
 his new environment, he would not be a success as a 
 colonist. It is further characteristic of the Briton that, 
 until very recently, he has not been disposed to exhibit 
 any satisfaction in his colonising feats. His attitude in 
 the past has been that of a father of a family of young 
 children, who regards each new arrival as a source of 
 additional expense and responsibility. 
 
 In the last quarter of the nineteenth century, however, 
 a new era was inaugurated, when the importance of the 
 many Colonies Great Britain has planted in America, 
 Africa, and Australasia was at last recognised. The 
 problems of colonial life are now engaging the attention 
 of the most thoughtful of British statesmen and public 
 
 I B 
 
' ' ' • Australian Life 
 
 officials, and the study of colonial affairs has already 
 shown that in each of the great British Colonies different 
 circumstances are producing an entirely separate type of 
 over-sea Briton. 
 
 It is well that this fact should be recognised, if the 
 fabric of Empire now being created is ever to be made 
 complete. In a new country events move with a 
 rapidity bewildering to those born and brought up under 
 settled and accepted conditions. Ten years served to 
 convert Australia from a collection of separate provinces 
 into a nation. Not very long ago it was the custom to 
 write of the Australian as an exiled Briton, who jealously 
 maintained British customs and traditions in his new 
 environment, and always spoke of the British isles as 
 *home.' Observers who obtained their information 
 concerning Australia during visits paid to the chief 
 Australian cities, or while enjoying the delightful hospi- 
 tality of some large and prosperous Australian station, were 
 induced to regard this as an established state of affairs, 
 rather than an interesting phase in the development of a 
 new community. They lost sight of the fact that a 
 native-born race was growing up, to whom many of the 
 British customs would be traditions instead of things 
 remembered with sentimental pleasure, and that to the 
 succeeding generation even the traditions would be lost. 
 
 For instance, the Englishman-born celebrated Christ- 
 mas Day in Australia in the good old-fashioned style, 
 with a smoking hot joint, and an abundance of rich 
 puddings and pies. His Australian-born son in many 
 cases maintained the custom, although fully alive to the 
 absurdity of such fare at a season when the thermometer 
 stands at more than one hundred in the shade. The 
 present-day Australian may often be found spending his 
 Christmas Day in some shady fern tree gully, clad in the 
 easiest of clothes, and with everything as cool as it is 
 possible to be made. The Australian climate renders the 
 English Christmas festivities practically impossible. In 
 the same way many other customs carried from Great 
 
 2 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 Britain to Australia by the pioneers of the new race have 
 been modified by conditions against which the first-comers 
 struggled, but which their grandchildren accept as part 
 of their everyday life. 
 
 For this reason any one seeking to make acquaintance 
 with the Australian life of the present day, must bear in 
 mind that it has essentially changed during the past 
 twenty years, and that in another quarter of a century it 
 will probably have advanced yet another stage in its 
 evolution. The chief factors conducing to this evolution 
 are the nature of the Australian continent itself, its 
 isolation in the Southern seas, its climate, and the 
 peculiar conditions under which it was colonised. 
 
 It is necessary to conceive of Australia, not as a colony 
 containing a population equal to little more than one- 
 half the number of inhabitants of the city of London 
 but as an immense continent, three million square miles 
 in extent. Compared to other continents, which have 
 their coast lines indented by huge gulfs, and which push 
 great peninsulas out into the ocean, Australia is a 
 singularly solid piece of land. As a matter of fact, its 
 coast line is smaller in proportion to its area than that 
 of any other continent. The physical contour of the 
 continent is remarkable for its uniform monotony. Its 
 surface is, broadly speaking, a graduated system of 
 immense plateaux and plains. The one striking feature 
 in Australian orography is a strip of highland running 
 from north to south along the Eastern coast. These 
 highlands, which separate the coastal plains and valleys 
 from the immense level interior of the continent, bear 
 the general name of the Dividing Range. In the south- 
 eastern corner of Australia this range bends westward, 
 traversing the whole State of Victoria and ending near 
 the eastern border of South Australia. It is in the south- 
 eastern corner that the Dividing Range attains its 
 greatest altitude, several peaks of the Australian Alps 
 being over seven thousand feet in height. 
 
 The eastern portion of Australia consists, then, first of 
 3 
 
•^::-':>:'.^'::..i/A.,/ Australian Life 
 
 a coastal strip, backed by a mountain range, beyond 
 which a plateau gradually declines to the low-lying 
 central plains. The western division of Australia, a 
 large part of which is still practically unknown country, 
 may also be described as a low plateau, broken here and 
 there by well-marked mountain ranges of no great 
 height. 
 
 Considerable prominence has been given to the position 
 and character of the Dividing Range, because of its 
 influence upon the climate of Australia. The chief rain- 
 bearing winds, blowing from the eastward and meeting 
 these highlands, provide the coastal districts with a 
 plentiful rainfall. Beyond them the rainfall is scanty 
 and irregular, growing less in proportion to the distance 
 from the eastern coast. Hence the interior of Australia 
 suffers from dryness. The average rainfall of more than 
 half the continent is less than twenty inches a year, and 
 for the greater part of this area an annual rainfall of ten 
 inches and under is customary in ordinary seasons. As 
 the evaporation caused by the sun's heat is very great in 
 Central Australia, it is obvious that the normal condition 
 of the soil there must be one of extreme aridity. 
 
 The Dividing Range is naturally the main watershed 
 of the continent. The rivers flowing to the eastern 
 coast are necessarily short, but some of them are of con- 
 siderable volume and depth. Of those flowing westward 
 the most important is the Murray, which enters the sea 
 through a large shallow lake in South Australia. This 
 river, with its tributaries, the Darling and the Murrum- 
 bidgee, forms the most considerable waterway of Australia, 
 opening up part of the interior to river vessels of shallow 
 draught. Other rivers flowing westward, such as the 
 Diamantina and the Barcoo, lose themselves in the 
 sands of Central Australia, or trickle into the salt lakes 
 of the interior. In the dry season they can hardly be 
 termed rivers, being rather a series of waterholes, 
 connected by a dry stream-bed. But when fed by the 
 tropical rains of a wet season, these rivers discharge 
 
 4 
 
1^ 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 immense volumes of water, sometimes overflowing their 
 banks and flooding large tracts of country. 
 
 When the contrast between coastal Australia and the 
 interior is considered — the one district well-watered and 
 possessing rivers navigable, although short, while the 
 other is arid and flat, and lacks rivers communicating 
 with the sea — it is not surprising to find that the popula- 
 tion remains in the coastal districts. There are less than 
 four million people in the whole continent, and more 
 than four-fifths of them reside within a hundred miles of 
 the coast. The centres of settlement dotted around the 
 coast are necessarily far apart, for as the country was 
 settled it was split into a number of States for the 
 purpose of government. Each of these States — until the 
 Federation, which began with the present century — was 
 concerned solely with its own affairs, and in each of 
 them there grew up one centre of population and trade. 
 These State capitals are all seaport towns, and from them 
 have been constructed railways, extending throughout 
 the coastal districts, and in some cases far into the interior. 
 The coastal districts are largely agricultural, and contain 
 smaller towns which are farming centres. The interior 
 — the back country, as it is sometimes called — is given 
 up to grazing. The grazing areas, called ' runs ' in 
 Australia, vary in size, some of those in the more remote 
 districts equalling the extent of one of the smaller 
 English counties. 
 
 Thus the Australian, it will be seen, dwells either in the 
 large State capital, which acts as the sole trade outlet 
 and inlet to the whole State ; or in the agricultural districts 
 immediately behind the coast ; or in the back country, 
 given up to grazing. The Australian of the cities speaks 
 of the rest of his continent as * the bush.' The dwellers 
 in the agricultural country speak of the district further 
 inland as the * back country.' Those themaelves in the 
 back country have behind them a land, partly unknown, 
 and therefore attractive to the adventurous, which they 
 call the * Never-Never Land.' 
 
 5 
 
Australian Life 
 
 It has often been declared that the distinctive charac- 
 teristic of the bush is its monotony. Flat or gently 
 undulating land, dotted with trees nearly all belonging to 
 the same family, and presenting a uniform dark green 
 hue to the eye, extends for hundreds of miles. The 
 trees are not so close together as to prevent the grass 
 from flourishing on the plain beneath them, and there is 
 little or no undergrowth. The best of this country has 
 been not inaptly compared to the park land of one of 
 the flatter English counties. 
 
 This is a common aspect of the bush, but it is only 
 one aspect, and the bush has many. There are 
 Australians to whom the word recalls the picture of a 
 roaring mountain stream of cold, clear water. The 
 banks are carpeted knee-deep with maiden-hair and 
 coral fern, and out of this tender green rise the velvety 
 brown boles of the tree ferns, each crowned with its 
 wide circle of broad fronds. Above the tree ferns 
 trembles the graceful feathery foliage of the sassafras, 
 and higher than the sassafras grows the myrtle, most 
 shapely of all Australian trees. From this tangle of 
 forest and fern the tall mountain ashes rear their smooth 
 grey columns, one hundred and fifty feet of straight 
 timber before the first branch. The air is sweet with 
 the scent of fragrant meadow plants, and from the 
 thicket close at hand there comes the long-drawn note 
 of the whip bird, with its curious and startUng staccato 
 ending. Somewhere in the distance the lyre bird is 
 imitating all the sounds of the forest, now fluting like 
 a magpie, and, anon, warbling like a whole chorus of 
 wrens. This is the bush in one of its most gracious 
 aspects. 
 
 Fifty miles nearer the coast, the mountain stream has 
 become a brimming river, winding through fertile valleys 
 and broad sunlit plains. Its banks are lined with groves 
 of pleasant wattles, that are covered in the early spring 
 with a garment of yellow blossom, so fragrant that the 
 warm breezes carry their message to the distant city, 
 
 6 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 and men there know that winter has now become spring 
 again. Between the river and the distant blue hills the 
 grassy meadows are unbroken by any tree, save the 
 clumps of lightwoods, thick and shining of foliage. 
 These cast across the grass a welcome shadow, in which 
 the sheep and cattle cluster as the sun grows warm. 
 From the distance blue hills beckon invitingly, but 
 viewed close at hand they are forbidding and desolate. 
 The soil is hard and stony, and nourishes only a coarse, 
 scanty grass, with a few bristling thorny shrubs here and 
 there. The trees are twisted and stunted, and their 
 trunks are clad in a rough, coarse bark that hangs from 
 them in long untidy strips. There is no pleasant stream 
 to be found here : one walks for miles, only to find the 
 ground growing harder and stonier, and the undergrowth 
 scantier and less attractive. A bush fire swept down 
 this range the summer before last, as the bare branches 
 of the trees and their blackened trunks bear witness. 
 Near the trunks there is a fringe of fresh green foliage, 
 out of which the skeleton branches protrude most un- 
 compromisingly. It is not cheerful or inviting, but the 
 bush holds scenes that are sterner still. 
 
 There are wastes of sand hummocks, with crest and 
 hollow as regular as the wave and trough of ocean. 
 Over all these wastes grows nothing but the stiff spinifex 
 grass, recognised as an unfaiHng sign of barren land. 
 That country is dreary and monotonous beyond con- 
 ception, but not so chiUing as the mysterious dead 
 forests, where the trees have long ago parted with every 
 sign of leaf or bark, and stand with white, palsied trunks 
 and gnarled limbs writhing into all fantastic imagery. 
 In the daytime they are gaunt and forbidding, but seen 
 in the white light of an Australian moon, when the wailing 
 cry of the curlew is never silent, they fill the soul with 
 a profound melancholy. 
 
 The broad Western plains are more cheerful, with 
 their clumps of drooping myalls, that glisten like silver 
 when the wind stirs their leaves. The grey salt bush 
 
 7 
 
Australian Life 
 
 that covers the plain is not attractive to the eye, but it 
 has the merit of being useful. There are other plains, 
 where neither tree, bush, nor herb covers the nakedness 
 of the red soil, and where the wind comes heralded by 
 a cloud of dust that settles on everything, choking the 
 dry creek beds, drifting over fences and even buildings, 
 and smothering the whole world with its effacing redness. 
 To the Australian it is all * the bush.' The mangrove 
 swamps and dense tropical forests of the north, the tracts 
 of giant timber in South-Western Australia, the * scrub ' 
 wastes of the interior where nothing can live, they all 
 go to make up the bush. 
 
 The occupation of the interior began early in the 
 nineteenth century, with the arrival of the free settlers. 
 Convict stations had been established on the coast, and 
 free men had only been too glad to escape the convict 
 taint by pushing across the Dividing Range, where the 
 early explorers had found passes through the hills to 
 the good land beyond. The wisdom of Captain Mac- 
 arthur, who provided the new country with a breed of 
 sheep bearing the finest wool, was justified by the 
 reputation gained by Australian merino wool in the 
 markets of the Motherland. There was plenty of room 
 for all while the foundations of the great pastoral industry, 
 Austraha's sole resource until the middle of the nineteenth 
 century, were being laid. Then came the discovery of 
 the gold which attracted throngs of enterprising and 
 adventurous men to Australia. In those stirring times 
 the coastal cities began to expand : their harbours were 
 full of shipping, and their streets were crowded with new- 
 comers. These spread over the face of the land, passing 
 from one newly discovered goldfield to another, every- 
 where forming fresh settlements. When the gold fever 
 abated, many of them reverted to their original occupa- 
 tions, while others obtained grants of land from the 
 Government, and occupied themselves with farming and 
 pastoral pursuits. 
 
 Thus Australia obtained population, but with the 
 8 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 decline of the goldfields came the discovery that farming 
 did not pay. The farmers suffered from the want of a 
 large local market, and from the isolated position of 
 Australia, which at that time rendered the export of 
 farm produce of a perishable nature almost an impossi- 
 bility. The pastoralist, with his wide expanses of grazing 
 land and inexpensive methods, could pay freights to the 
 old world on his wool and tallow, and still flourish. It 
 was not so with the agriculturist, who found the home 
 markets glutted with the perishable products of his farm, 
 while wheat-growing Russia and America possessed 
 advantages of position which left him unable to compete 
 with them elsewhere. In these circumstances some of 
 the Australian States initiated a policy of protective tariffs, 
 designed to hasten that stage of national development 
 when the manufacture of the raw products of the country 
 should be localised. The immediate result of this policy 
 was a further accession of population to the capital cities, 
 where the new factories were established. 
 
 The last phase in Australian development is the result 
 of the improvement which has taken place in the arrange- 
 ments for the transport of perishable goods in a refrigerated 
 condition. The cold chamber and the cold storage 
 depbt have turned the thoughts of Australians to dairying, 
 fruit growing, and poultry farming, and created a new 
 demand for agricultural land. 
 
 It is my task to sketch the conditions of Australian 
 life at this stage in the history of the continent. I have 
 already indicated the size and importance of the Australian 
 capital cities, from which the visitor to AustraHa gains 
 the most lasting impression of the Antipodes. Those 
 cities have been frequently described as British cities, 
 planted in more genial climate and under more favourable 
 circumstances. There are no essential differences between 
 the mode of life of a citizen of Sydney and a citizen of 
 Liverpool, although in many minor details interesting 
 distinctions may be observed. But in the bush a new 
 type of Briton with distinctive faculties and characteristics 
 
Australian Life 
 
 has already been evolved. The men who live on the 
 land are the typical Australians, and the courage and 
 endurance with which they face the hardships and un- 
 certainties of their life provide the brightest promise for 
 the future of the new nation. 
 
 lO 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 SQUATTERS AND STATIONS 
 
 The men who laid the foundations of the pastoral 
 industry were trespassers in the eyes of the law. They 
 wanted the right to run their stock on large areas of land, 
 transferring them from place to place as pasturage and 
 water failed. They could not by any possibility purchase 
 as much land as they required for this purpose, and the 
 terms on which they could obtain leasehold rights were 
 prohibitive. They therefore occupied the land without 
 possessing any authority to do so, and thus obtained 
 their name of ' squatters/ The importance to the new 
 Colony of the wool they produced preserved them from 
 interference, and in time their position was recognised by 
 the introduction of a system dividing the back country 
 into * pastoral districts,^ which might be occupied on the 
 payment of a reasonable yearly rental. No fence marked 
 the boundary of the early squatter's run. The fixing of 
 such a limit was often a matter of arrangement with the 
 nearest neighbour, distant a long day's ride on horseback. 
 Just as often, the squatter was in undisputed possession 
 of a district more than large enough for his flocks and 
 herds, which were transferred from one spot to another, 
 wherever abundance of food or water might be found. 
 Each flock was in charge of a shepherd, whose duty it 
 was to keep the sheep within certain limits, and to guard 
 the lambs from their worst enemy, the dingo or wild dog. 
 The shepherd lived the life of a hermit, probably seeing 
 
 II 
 
Australian Life 
 
 no human being except the man who brought him his 
 stores of tea and flour from the head station at fixed 
 periods, and relying for company upon his dogs. There 
 was no talk of over-stocking in those days. In bad 
 seasons the stock were moved to new pastures, hitherto 
 untouched, and in good years they rioted in the super- 
 abundant pastures. 
 
 Prices for Australian wool ruled high, and the squat- 
 ters prospered until the very mention of the word came 
 to suggest the possession of wealth. Who has not heard 
 of the wool * kings ' of Australia ? They had their town 
 mansions standing in spacious grounds and occupying 
 the most desirable situations in the best suburbs of 
 Sydney and Melbourne. With princely disregard of cost, 
 they erected dwellings on their runs, designed to afford 
 their occupiers the maximum of comfort and to neutralise 
 the more unpleasant conditions of the Australian climate. 
 They kept racing studs, drove four-in-hand drags, and 
 entertained chance visitors with a liberality so open- 
 handed that Australian hospitality obtained a well- 
 deserved reputation in the old world. There is a true 
 story told of a young squatter who, to provide for the 
 comfort of his guests in hot weather, had two tons of ice 
 packed in new blankets and despatched from Sydney. 
 On its arrival at the railway terminus the ice was trans- 
 ferred to a teamster's waggon, and a journey of two 
 hundred miles under a hot sun so reduced its bulk that 
 only a few small blocks reached their destination ; yet 
 with this return for his very expensive experiment the 
 squatter professed himself more than satisfied. 
 
 In time the demand for pastoral holdings caused 
 boundaries to be strictly defined, and runs had to be 
 fenced. The increase of his flocks and the hmitation of 
 his runs caused the squatter to feel the pressure of those 
 dry seasons when stock dies from want of food and 
 water. The throwing open of the pastoral districts to 
 the * selector * struck another blow at the prosperity of 
 the squatter, as we shall presently see. Then came the 
 
 12 
 
MOUNTAIN STREAM IN THE BUSH. 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 plague of rabbits, devouring the grass, and leading to 
 legislation which involved the pastoralist in heavy expense 
 for rabbit extermination. Squatting was no longer a sure 
 road to fortune, but a speculative undertaking, the squatter 
 being dependent upon the uncertain rainfall and the fickle 
 climate for his profits. Such is the position of some of 
 the pastoralists at the present time. Many of the de- 
 scendants of the squatting pioneers, it is true, have 
 inherited holdings in favoured locahties where the rain- 
 fall is regular and the pasturage abundant. Long experi- 
 ence has show^n how these stations can be managed to 
 the best advantage, and in many cases they yield their 
 owners large incomes even in the worst seasons. 
 
 On one of these stations pastoral life may be seen at 
 its best, and I propose to describe a typical one, situated 
 in the Riverina district of New South Wales. The * run ' 
 consists of a triangle of land enclosed by two streams, 
 the confluence of which on their way to the river Darling 
 forms the apex of the triangle. The third boundary, the 
 base of the triangle, is a well-made public road. The 
 run itself is fenced ofi" from the road by a stout three- 
 railed fence, and is divided into paddocks by similar 
 fences, or lighter ones made of wire stretched through 
 posts. A white gate on the boundary fence marks the 
 drive leading from the public road through the run, and 
 a similar gate at each subdivisional fence points its course 
 to the homestead. The homestead itself is a substantial 
 house of stone, built after the fashion of a bungalow, 
 with only one story, and a broad verandah running round 
 three sides of it. Grape-vines and passion-flower shade 
 the verandah, and the front of the house looks over a 
 spacious garden and orchard, with a thick hedge of 
 quince trees. On the verandah are easy-chairs and 
 lounges, and a table strewn with the latest English 
 magazines as well as the admirable weekly papers that 
 are a feature of Australian journalism. The windows run 
 down to the floor ; the doorway is wide and inviting, and 
 opens to a spacious cool-tiled hall. On one side is a 
 
 13 
 
Australian Life 
 
 drawing-room, with grand piano, polished floor, and 
 Persian rugs ; water colours are on the walls and large 
 mirrors, all in the best modern taste. On the other 
 side is a dining-room, large and handsomely furnished, 
 and behind it a cheerful morning-room, with the newest 
 novels lining the book-shelf and the latest music on the 
 upright piano. Bedrooms, cool and airy, open on to the 
 wide verandah, but to see the kitchen and laundry it is 
 necessary to pass to a group of detached buildings in the 
 rear. Here, too, are the quarters occupied by the 
 bachelors — of whom more will presently be told — and 
 the schoolroom, which also serves as concert-hall and 
 chapel. 
 
 One side of the verandah overlooks a large lake of 
 fresh water, formed by damming the course of one of the 
 boundary streams. Flocks of wild swan and ducks feed 
 in it undisturbed, and even shyer water fowl, such as the 
 ibis and pelican, may often be observed upon it. From 
 this lake an ingeniously contrived windmill raises water 
 to the level of an elevated platform, on which, protected 
 by a roof of thick wooden shingles, are a number of iron 
 tanks. From this reservoir pipes conduct the water 
 throughout the house and garden. From the other side 
 of the house may be seen the wool-shed, a long building 
 of wood with a galvanised iron roof. Except at shearing 
 time, the shed is empty and silent. At one end are 
 the great wool press and the bins of the wool-classers, 
 while at the shearing-board that runs along both sides 
 of the shed may be inspected the apparatus of the 
 sheep shearing machine, the invention of Lord Wolseley's 
 brother. 
 
 A ride around the run reveals signs of careful manage- 
 ment everywhere. Each paddock contains its flocks of 
 carefully graded sheep : in one are wethers of a certain 
 age, and in another ewes. The stud flock occupies a 
 domain of its own, and there is a special paddock for the 
 horses, and another for the cows. On the flats near the 
 creek a heavy crop of the forage plant Alfalfa is being 
 
 14 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 grown under irrigation. It will presently be cut and 
 converted into ensilage as a precaution against drought. 
 
 The permanent staff attached to the station seems dis- 
 proportionately small when compared to its size and the 
 numbers of the flocks it supports. The owner takes an 
 active interest in his property and spends a considerable 
 portion of each year there, bringing his lifelong experi- 
 ence to bear upon the more important details of manage- 
 ment. Should he be absent in town, his place is taken 
 by one of his sons, who has possibly spent his whole life 
 on the station, with the exception of a year or two at a 
 public school in Sydney or Melbourne, which is held to 
 complete the education begun by a tutor. The adminis- 
 tration of the station is in the hands of an experienced 
 manager, who, with his wife and family, lives in a pleasant 
 cottage near the homestead. Under his supervision are 
 the bachelors, or jackaroos, as they are usually called in 
 the language of the bush. The jackaroos on such a station 
 as I am describing are often young men of education and 
 some position, who, having chosen the pastoral life as a 
 career, are gaining the necessary experience. Some of 
 them are * new chums,' born and brought up in Great 
 Britain, and now making their first acquaintance with 
 Australian manners and customs. The jackaroo is the 
 victim of all the practical jokes, and the central figure in 
 many of the yarns told in the men's quarters. One of 
 the best-known jackaroo stories relates to the experiences 
 of two fresh-complexioned * new chums,' lately arrived at 
 an Australian sheep-run with a whole cartload of luggage, 
 including a complete armoury of weapons. They had 
 been much disappointed at the scarcity of game, both 
 furred and feathered, and had begun to despair of finding 
 anything to shoot. Their hopes, however, were revived 
 by a conversation overheard between a bearded horseman 
 and the station cook, as follows : — 
 
 Cook: * Hullo!' 
 
 The Bearded One: ' Hullo ! ' 
 
 Cook : * Anything fresh ? ' 
 IS 
 
Australian Life 
 
 The Bearded One : ' Nothin' much.' (A pause), ' I 
 just saw that {adjective) jackaroo down by the waterhole 
 again.' {Another pause), * Well, so long ! ' 
 
 Cook : ' So long ! ' 
 
 But the new chums had heard enough. They hastily 
 put their guns together, and crept down to the water- 
 hole, where they found a young man of their own type, 
 though not quite so fresh as to the complexion, sitting on 
 a log holding his head in his hands and groaning. The 
 sportsmen determined to question him. 
 
 * Excuse me,' said the spokesman, ' have you seen 
 anything of a jackaroo about here ? ' 
 
 * What the blazes has that got to do with you ? ' de- 
 manded the man on the log, glaring at them. 
 
 * Oh, nothing, only we are trying to get a shot at it.' 
 The jackaroo obtains practical experience of station 
 
 life by performing all the multifarious and unpleasant 
 tasks that come to hand. He learns to ride, if he has 
 not previously acquired that accomplishment, and to work 
 cheerfully all day under a broiling Australian sun. Under 
 a good manager he rapidly obtains a mastery of all the 
 details connected with the management of flocks, and in 
 time he may himself become manager of a station, or, if 
 he can control the necessary capital, may stock a run on 
 his own account. 
 
 On a run divided into paddocks after the fashion 
 described above, no shepherds are required, but there 
 will be one or two boundary riders, whose business it is 
 to see that there are no gaps in the fences. Each day 
 the boundary rider visits a different part of the run, and 
 reports to the manager upon the state of the fences, the 
 amount of water in the water holes, and the general con- 
 dition of that portion of the run. Every station has its 
 cook, generally a man, and sometimes a Chinaman. In 
 his kitchen is a large brick oven for the baking of bread 
 and * brownie,' the latter a station delicacy made by mix- 
 ing brown sugar and currants with the bread dough. A 
 large colonial oven, with wood fire on top and beneath 
 
 i6 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 it, is used for roasting, and no station kitchen is complete 
 without a mighty frying-pan, for the preparation of the 
 inevitable fried chops which are the staple station 
 fare. 
 
 Another important person on the station is the store- 
 keeper, who is usually book-keeper as well. The station 
 store is an interesting place, containing a little of every- 
 thing, from spare parts of the sheep-shearing machinery 
 and fencing wire, down to slop-made clothes and tobacco. 
 The store transactions are sometimes complicated, for 
 they include the issue of clothing and tobacco to the 
 hands as part of the wages earned, and also the issue of 
 flour or tea, according to the bush system which is ex- 
 plained elsewhere, to the swagmen who may call. The 
 storekeeper keeps the wages book, issues groceries, etc., 
 to the cook, and exercises a general supervision over the 
 domestic expenditure. There are usually a few ' station 
 hands' in permanent employment, in addition to those 
 already enumerated, but not very many. It is estimated 
 that on a well-managed station one man is employed for 
 every 7,500 sheep, an estimate which shows that the 
 pastoral industry provides permanent work for a very 
 small number of men proportionately to its importance. 
 
 The occasional work about a station, such as the 
 erection of fencing or the digging of water tanks, is 
 usually let by contract. The men who do this work have 
 their own camp, and provide for themselves without dis- 
 turbing the economy of the station, although they may 
 draw stores (groceries, meat, etc.) against the money they 
 earn. For the busy seasons on a station, such as shear- 
 ing time, numerous extra hands are employed, on a 
 system that will presently be explained. 
 
 There are many stations where no sheep are pastured 
 at all, the whole run being given up to cattle. The 
 largest of these cattle-runs are to be found in northern 
 Queensland, where it is no uncommon thing to find a 
 run five thousand square miles in extent. Here is bred 
 the long-horned Australian bullock, sullen and dangerous, 
 
 17 c 
 
Australian Life 
 
 a wild beast rather than a domestic animal. A very 
 different kind of station is this. The homestead is a 
 wooden building, with a roof of galvanised iron, very hot 
 in the noonday sun, but cooling rapidly when evening 
 comes. It stands on a number of tall piles, and between 
 each pile and the house is a projecting tin-plate, beyond 
 which the destructive white ant is unable to climb. Here 
 live the manager and his wife, fifty miles away from the 
 next station and from any white man, except the two or 
 three white stockmen employed on the run. They are 
 assisted in their work by half a score of blacks, two or 
 three of them * gins,' who can ride or wield a stock whip 
 as well as their dusky lords. A gin helps the manager's 
 wife with the domestic work, and the whole company 
 lives on beef and bread from one year's end to the other. 
 There is no wool-shed here, only a stock-yard of solid 
 timbers, with a branding-yard. The cattle roam un- 
 checked, collecting in mobs by a process of natural 
 selection, and finding their own food and water. The 
 stockmen know where each mob can be found for the 
 periodical musterings, when the animals belonging to other 
 runs, known by the brands they bear, are drafted out, 
 and the ^ clean skins' — unbranded stock— are made to 
 feel the smart of the branding iron. Young bullocks are 
 culled from the mob and sent away to the eastern coasts 
 or down south, to be fattened for market, and surplus 
 stock is driven off to the boiling-down works, where the 
 beasts are converted into tallow and beef-extract. 
 
 The life of the cattle-rnan is one long round of hard- 
 ship and danger. No man, not even those brought up 
 to the life, can account for the lunatic impulses to which 
 a mob of bullocks is subject. Among stockmen the 
 * looniness ' of the bullocks is proverbial, and in spite of 
 expert horsemanship and the marvellous cleverness of 
 their stock-horses, horse and man sometimes go down 
 before the mad rush of some beast seized with a sudden 
 and unaccountable fury. When camped with cattle at 
 night-time, the men have to be prepared for sudden 
 
 i8 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 stampedes, which the stockmen account for by stating 
 that bullocks see ghosts. 
 
 The stockman himself, in his characteristic dress of 
 loose shirt, tight riding-breeches, and cabbage-tree hat, 
 with the long stock whip coiled round his shoulders, is 
 one of the most picturesque figures of the Australian 
 bush. His usefulness is measured by his horsemanship 
 and his fearlessness among cattle, for unless he possesses 
 both these attributes in the highest degree, his value as a 
 cattle-man is practically nil. 
 
 Station life, however, is not one long round of work 
 and sleep. On a sheep-station such as I have described, 
 a day's hard work in the saddle ends with a refreshing 
 shower bath and a pleasant family dinner. Sometimes a 
 neighbour drops in, and after dinner the men smoke on 
 the cool, broad verandah in the pleasant dusk. The 
 wind sighs through the big she oaks, and from the belt of 
 tall gum trees by the creeks comes the doleful note of the 
 mopoke. Great flying foxes flap silently down to the 
 peach trees in the orchard, and tiny bats wheel and turn 
 in the clear air, hawking the plentiful insects. One by 
 one the stars come out, until the violet sky blazes with 
 them. Across the lake the curlews are wailing, but in 
 the drawing-room the lamps are lit, and the cheerful 
 sound at the piano invites an adjournment. For an hour 
 or two possibilities of drought or flood are forgotten, and 
 but for the bronzed faces of the men it would be easy to 
 imagine one's self in a city drawing-room. The evening 
 ends at an early hour, however, for work starts at day- 
 break upon an Australian station. 
 
 On Sunday, Church service takes place in the school- 
 room, when the owner or his representative reads the 
 prayers, and possibly a sermon from a volume of some 
 popular divine. When the bishop or his representative 
 visits the station, the wool-shed is converted into a church, 
 and visitors flock in from every side. Neighbouring 
 selectors bring in their children for baptism, and the 
 gathering is at once a representative and a friendly one. 
 
 19 
 
Australian Life 
 
 There are gay seasons on a station, too, when the town 
 mansion is deserted, and the w^hole family, with town 
 visitors as well, gathers in the homestead. A round of 
 dances and picnics is arranged, and a race meeting, with 
 a race ball to follow. 
 
 The race meeting is quite unlike anything of its kind 
 in the cities, for it is really a picnic on a grand scale, with 
 the addition of horse-racing. The attendance of book- 
 makers is discouraged as far as possible, and a large pro- 
 portion of the races are confined to amateur riders. 
 Among the horses taking part in the sport may be seen 
 some magnificent specimens of the thoroughbred, but a 
 condition is attached to many at the races, excluding 
 stable-fed horses. Better sport could not be afforded 
 than the struggles between these hardy grass-fed * walers,' 
 many of which have never known the shelter of a roof. 
 No programme is complete without a race for shearers' 
 horses, with owners up ; and though the costumes of the 
 riders are unorthodox to city eyes, close finishes and 
 skilful horsemanship are the rule rather than the exception. 
 
 Station life provides other amusement besides, long 
 drives through open paddocks and over rough bush 
 tracks, where the clear air is aromatic with the scent of 
 the eucalyptus and fragrant with the perfume of the 
 wattle, wild rides through the scrub after dingoes and 
 kangaroos, or madder gallops still after the long-tailed 
 wild horses that shelter in the fastnesses of the hills. Such 
 diversions only take place during the intervals between 
 the busy seasons. The real life of an Australian station 
 can best be observed, however, at these periods of 
 activity, when numerous extra men are employed, and 
 the whole machinery of station life is working at high 
 pressure.. 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 STATION WORK 
 
 * The bell is set a-ringing, and the engine gives a toot, 
 There's five and thirty shearers here are shearing for the loot, 
 So stir yourselves, you penners up, and shove the sheep along, 
 The musterers are fetching them, a hundred thousand strong. 
 And make your collie dogs speak up — what would the buyers say 
 In London, if the wool was late this year from Castlereagh? * 
 
 The Banjo. 
 
 The busiest time on a sheep-station is the time of 
 shearing, when the annual stock-taking takes place, as 
 well as the shearing of the sheep, and the sorting and 
 despatch of the wool. For some time before the shear- 
 ing, extra hands are employed, for a good deal of 
 preparation is necessary. The machinery of the wool- 
 shed has to be oiled and set in order, firewood has to be 
 hauled, and all the water-tanks filled. In the paddocks 
 the flocks are being mustered, ready to be driven to the 
 yards outside the wool-shed. Long before the date fixed 
 for commencing the actual work of shearing, all is bustle 
 and activity on the station. 
 
 A few days before shearing starts the shearers begin 
 to arrive. Some come on horseback, some on bicycles, 
 and a good many on foot, carrying their swags after the 
 recognised bush fashion. The huts set aside for their 
 accommodation are soon filled to overflowing, and many 
 of them camp under tents or in the open. The shed 
 overseer, engineer, wool-classers, cooks, etc., have already 
 
 21 
 
Australian Life 
 
 been engaged, and the roll of the applicants for work is 
 called two days before the shearing starts. Those to be 
 engaged as shearers are first selected, and sign their 
 agreements in the presence of the manager, shed over- 
 seer, and book-keeper. Then a number of wool-pressers 
 and * rouse-abouts ' are engaged, the duties of the latter 
 being elastic in the extreme. Some of them are ' pickers- 
 up,' removing the shorn fleeces from the shearing-board, 
 and keeping it clear for the shearer. Others are em- 
 ployed in droving the woolly sheep to the yard and 
 transferring them to the pens inside the wool-shed, in 
 branding shorn sheep, in moving them back to the 
 paddock, and in loading the waggons that carry the wool 
 away. When all the men required have been engaged, 
 the disappointed ones roll their swags and go off in 
 search of employment elsewhere. 
 
 Shearing usually starts at the end of the week, on 
 Friday or Saturday for preference. The w^ork done by 
 the shearers in the broken week is regarded in the light 
 of an * exercise canter,' and the Saturday afternoon and 
 Sunday spell obviates the danger of strained wrists and 
 backs which exists when serious work is begun too suddenly. 
 Shearing starts at six o'clock, but before daybreak the 
 engine-driver and cooks are at work, the former getting 
 up steam to drive the machines, the latter preparing the 
 coffee and buns with which the shearers break their fast. 
 At six o'clock everybody is in the shed, the pens are full 
 of sheep, and the shearers, two to each pen, stand on the 
 board. The engine whistle gives a shrill toot, the 
 machinery is set in motion, and each shearer dives into 
 the pen to catch the sheep he has selected as the easiest 
 to shear. Grasping his victim by the leg, the shearer 
 drags it out of the pen, quietens its struggles by a deft 
 application of his knee, and gets to work with the shears. 
 The fleece falls off the animal in one great piece, and in 
 a surprisingly short space of time it is released, pink and 
 shivering, to make its way along the race and out into 
 the yards again. The pickers-up fly to remove the fallen 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 wool, and the shearer plunges into the pen again in 
 search of the easiest cutting animal left there. As the 
 pens become emptier, the sheep left are harder to shear, 
 and the last animal of all, called the * cobbler,' is looked 
 upon as an object to avoid. If a very undesirable 
 specimen, the manoeuvres of the two shearers are amusing, 
 each being anxious that the * cobbler ' shall fall to the 
 other. 
 
 Up and down the board walks the shed overseer, 
 with an eye upon every man there. He sees that the 
 * penners-up ' do not leave a pen empty for one moment, 
 that the pickers-up are keeping the board clear, and 
 above all, that the shearers are doing their work properly. 
 It is of the utmost importance that each sheep shall be 
 shorn closely and evenly, uneven shearing resulting in 
 waste * tip ' to the wool of the next season. The shearers, 
 who are paid according to the number of sheep shorn, 
 will scamp their work if not properly supervised. The 
 rivalry among them is very keen, and there is sometimes 
 close competition for the position of * ringer,' as the 
 man whose total of shorn sheep at the conclusion of 
 shearing is called. Occasionally a man in his haste and 
 in his anxiety to shear close will cut a piece of skin 
 from his sheep, when a boy with a pot of mixed tar and 
 grease will be called to daub the wound of the suffering 
 animal. In the old days of hand-shearing the tar boy's 
 services were more frequently in requisition than under 
 the modern system of machine-shearing, now in vogue at 
 all the best-managed stations. 
 
 At eight o'clock work is suspended for the first of the 
 many meals the shearer manages to devour during the 
 course of the day. The shearer's cook is always a com- 
 petent man, and supplies his clients with the best fare 
 obtainable, utterly belying the name of * poisoner,' usually 
 bestowed upon him. He has to cater for a very fastidious 
 company, but he is well paid for his work, and can afford 
 to ignore a good deal of captious grumbling. The 
 shearers themselves earn splendid wages while in work, 
 
 23 
 
Australian Life 
 
 the standard rate being one pound for each hundred 
 sheep shorn. A good shearer can average a hundred 
 a day taking the easy work with the hard, and under 
 exceptional circumstances tallies as high as three hundred 
 in a day have been made. This, however, is a notable 
 piece of work, and the names of the men who have 
 performed such exceptional feats are known throughout 
 pastoral Australia, * from the Gulf to the Bight.' Even 
 when living upon all the luxuries at his command, the 
 shearer's expenditure rarely exceeds one pound per week, 
 so that the men usually have good cheques to draw when 
 the shed has ' cut out.' 
 
 Each fleece is taken by the picker-up to the table of 
 the wool-roller, who trims it neatly, removing the dirty 
 edges, and rolls it up for the inspection of the wool- 
 classer. This expert decides on the quality of the fleece, 
 and places it in one of a number of bins, each bearing 
 a distinguishing letter denoting the quality of the wool it 
 contains. The bins are from time to time emptied by 
 the wool-pressers, who bale the wool with the aid of the 
 big press, marking each bale with the quality of the wool 
 and the station brand. The bales are loaded upon 
 waggons and conveyed to the nearest railway-station; or 
 to a river-staging, where they are piled upon a barge 
 which is towed by a little side-wheel steamer down to 
 the river Murray. 
 
 The shorn sheep are counted and branded, and in 
 many cases dipped to prevent their picking up tick and 
 other parasites. Then they are drafted into classes and 
 moved to the paddocks, where they remain until the 
 time comes when another crop of wool has to be shorn 
 from them. By the counting of the sheep the owner is 
 able to compare the numbers of his flock with those ascer- 
 tained at the previous shearing, and so to estimate their 
 rate of increase, or, as the case has too often been of 
 late years, their rate of decrease. The end of the 
 shearing is usually celebrated by an entertainment, con- 
 sisting of athletic sports and races for the shearers' 
 
 24 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 horses in the afternoon, and a concert in the wool-shed 
 in the evening. The concert usually takes the form of a 
 burnt cork entertainment with a number of highly original 
 and diverting turns thrown in. Some of the shearers are 
 masters of most curious accomplishments, such as axe- 
 swinging and bell-ringing. I once heard a man play a 
 number of tunes upon a row of billy-cans of different 
 sizes, each containing a certain quantity of water, the 
 notes being sounded by tapping the cans with a small 
 wooden hammer. An invariable feature of these enter- 
 tainments is a collection, the proceeds being devoted to 
 the benefit of the nearest hospital, and the shearer, flush 
 of money at such a time, seldom fails to contribute 
 liberally. When shearing is over the men are paid their 
 cheques, and the station reverts to its normal condition 
 and regular daily round of work. 
 
 The busy time on a cattle-station is the general muster, 
 a time of the greatest excitement and anxiety. First 
 comes the driving of the various mobs to the * camp,' a 
 work accomplished with as little whip-cracking and flurry 
 as possible, for the object in view is to prevent the 
 animals jT om becoming excited or unmanageable. When 
 the cattle c.re all collected, the work of 'cutting out' 
 begins. The cattle are packed together, some of them 
 wild with fear, and disturbing the others by their bellow- 
 ing and sidelong thrusting of the horns. Into the mob 
 rides the stockman, intent on separating from it some 
 particular animal he has picked out. The well-trained 
 horse forces his way through the cattle, obedient to 
 every touch of knee and rein. Soon he has grasped his 
 master's purpose and begins to edge the beast singled 
 out towards the outside of the throng. It is a dangerous 
 work, but man and horse have confidence in each other, 
 and both are alert and watchful. Now the beast to be 
 cut out is one of a dozen on the edge of the pack, and 
 with a crack of his whip and a yell the stockman drives 
 his horse between them and the mob, separating them 
 from it. They try to return, and those not required are 
 
 25 
 
Australian Life 
 
 allowed to do so, but the beast that is to be cut out finds, 
 wherever he turns, that whip and horse are in his way. 
 Soon he is galloping in the direction the stockman has 
 chosen, and is added to the mob of cattle to which he 
 rightly belongs, Then back go man and horse to the 
 press again, to repeat the exciting work. After the 
 cutting out is done, and the beasts have been sorted in 
 mobs according to their classes, each mob is made to 
 * string ' or move in single file, in order that a count may 
 be made. Last of all comes the branding of the * clean- 
 skins,' an operation performed with much heating of 
 irons, an overpowering odour of burning hair and hide, 
 and a frantic bellowing on the part of the persecuted 
 oxen. 
 
 If the good qualities of the stock horse are to be 
 thoroughly appreciated, he must be seen at this work of 
 cutting out, or the equally stirring performance of running 
 wild horses. The 'brumbies,' as the wild horses are 
 called, are usually to be found in the hilly districts, and 
 their existence on a run in any number is soon made 
 apparent by the amount of pasturage they consume. 
 Then the run-holder may arrange to clear his run of 
 them, by calling in a band of men who make the capture 
 of wild horses their profession. Operations are begun 
 by building a stout stock-yard in a position chosen with 
 regard to the known habits of the horses. On the day 
 appointed for the * running,' there is no lack of volunteers 
 willing to try the speed of their horses against that of the 
 brumbies. The position of the mob of wild horses has 
 been carefully marked, and with equal care plans have 
 been laid for the course along which they are to be 
 driven. The whole success of the operation depends 
 upon the carrying out of these plans. And now the 
 brumbies are off, heading straight for the roughest part 
 of the range of hills, while every horseman in pursuit is 
 getting as much as possible out of his mount. Those 
 best mounted forge ahead, and ride for the flanks of the 
 flying mob of * long-tails,' where stock-whips are presently 
 
 26 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 cracking as the men strive to turn the terrified animals. 
 Now the herd is tearing down a steep declivity, threading 
 between trees and boulders. It is the chance of the 
 mounted men, for even the wild brumbies are not so sure- 
 footed as these stock horses. One or two of the boldest 
 riders are at the foot of the descent before their quarry, 
 and check them with skilfully wielded stock-whips. The 
 others press closer now, and the wild animals are turned, 
 checked, and lashed and harried into a state of exhaustion. 
 Like a mob of driven cattle they are forced into the 
 stock-yard, although at the sight of the fencing the wildest 
 of them make a last effort for freedom, and two or three 
 may probably break the cordon and escape at the last 
 moment. The value of the brumby may be judged 
 from the fact that a good stock horse, carrying a full-grown 
 man, can both outpace and outstay him. Some of them 
 are easily broken to both saddle and harness, but others 
 remain incorrigible * outlaws,' in spite of the forcible 
 methods of the horsebreaker. 
 
 Most stockmen understand the breaking of young 
 horses, and on stations where horsebreeding is carried on 
 to any considerable extent, there are usually one or two 
 men well qualified for such work. The methods em- 
 ployed are of the rough-and-ready order, little time being 
 wasted in preparing the unbroken animal for the ordeal 
 of being mounted. Once in the saddle, it is the rider's 
 object to enforce his mastery, applying whip and spur 
 with relentless energy at any sign of rebellion. I can 
 recall from my own boyhood a picture of one of these 
 horsebreakers, whom we only knew as ' Sydney Bob ' — 
 an undersized man, but deep-chested and strong of arm, 
 and with a weather-beaten face that expressed strong 
 determination. In his dress Sydney Bob was * flash,' 
 addicted to tight cords and neat boots, a brilliant scarlet 
 handkerchief knotted around his throat, and a wide-leaved 
 cabbage-tree hat. The particular incident with which 
 he is connected in my mind was the riding of a young 
 bullock down the main street of a small township near 
 
 27 
 
Australian Life 
 
 Ballarat The ride was the outcome of a wager, and the 
 feat was made more dangerous by the fact that the rider 
 had one arm in a shng, probably as a result of a fall 
 from some unbroken horse. The bullock was hemmed in 
 a small yard of the local sale-yards, and the first notice he 
 received of the wager of which he had been made the 
 subject was to find a man astride his back. The panels 
 were let down, and the bullock rushed out into the street 
 with Sydney Bob, facing the wrong way, vigorously 
 twisting his tail with the uninjured hand. As the mad- 
 dened beast tore down the street, his rider could be 
 heard shouting his war-cry of — 
 
 * Blow me, dontcher know me ? 
 I'm Sydney Bob, the rider.' 
 
 From that freak he escaped without injury, although 
 I believe he met his death as a result of one of these 
 mad wagers. In his day, this man was a notable rider 
 of * backjumpers,' and a well-known character at horse- 
 sales. 
 
 Among the most skilful of horsebreakers are the rough- 
 riders attached to the Australian police departments, 
 which annually purchase large drafts of valuable young 
 horses for the use of the mounted police. Among a 
 draft I once saw handled by the police rough-riders was 
 a backjumper which gave a most extraordinary exhibition 
 of his accomplishments. He did not look the part at 
 all ; otherwise, he would never have been purchased for 
 the purpose of a trooper's mount. This horse allowed him- 
 self to be saddled with a meekness that his experienced 
 rider evidently considered suspicious, for he was obviously 
 prepared for the performance which followed. No 
 sooner had . he thrown himself into the saddle than the 
 horse sprang into the air, ducking his head and arching 
 his back with a ferocious energy. Four times he leaped 
 into the air, bucking until it seemed that the stout girth 
 w^ould break. Finding these tactics useless, he broke 
 into a mad gallop, and then, with a sidelong leap, he once 
 
 28 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 more arched his back like a bent bow. Then he reared 
 up on his hind legs, threatening to fall backwards upon 
 his rider. Finally, he did throw himself upon the ground, 
 but the man's skill saved him from being crushed, and 
 when the animal rose to his feet again, it was only to 
 find himself still burdened with his hated incubus. He 
 continued to struggle until he was thoroughly exhausted 
 and allowed himself to be ridden around the riding- 
 school. Then the rough-rider dismounted. *An out- 
 law,' said he, * and a bad un at that' 
 
 Another familiar figure on the station is the rabbit- 
 trapper, with his waggon, his wire netting, and his spring- 
 traps. At one time, when the trapper received payment 
 from the squatter for the scalps of his slain rabbits, these 
 men might earn as much as ^20 a week in the badly 
 infested districts. It is said — and there is good reason 
 to believe it — that many of these men deUberately spared 
 the female rabbits, declining to put an end to such a 
 lucrative employment by readily helping to stamp the 
 rabbits out. The pastoralists were helpless in the face 
 of the law, which was afterwards modified, when the 
 rabbit-trappers' era of luxury came to a sudden end. At 
 that time the commercial value of bunny was practically 
 nil^ but the use of his fur in the manufacture of felt hats 
 and the improvements made in the transport of frozen 
 meats have given a new lease of life to the occupation 
 of rabbit-trapping. Many millions of rabbits are now 
 annually exported from Australia, and even more are 
 poisoned for the sake of their skins. Wherever there is 
 railway communication, the once-despised rabbit is now 
 regarded as a source of employment and revenue. In 
 such districts the rabbits are being kept well in check, 
 as the trappers are glad to undertake the work for the 
 value of their catch. An experienced man, with a proper 
 outfit of cart, horse, and wire-netting traps, can make 
 from ;^3 to J[^\ a week, though he has to thoroughly 
 understand his work if he is to earn so much. 
 
 The fox was introduced into Australia to make war 
 29 
 
Australian Life 
 
 upon the rabbits, and has made himself thoroughly at 
 home there. He prefers poultry to the rabbit, and has 
 become such a nuisance in the farming districts that 
 rewards are paid for his scalp. In one district alone over 
 thirty thousand foxes were killed in the year 1901, though 
 these animals, like the dingoes, show the greatest cunning 
 in avoiding poisoned baits laid for them. For the scalp 
 of a dingo as much as twenty shillings will be paid, and 
 the pastoralists are glad to get rid of the brutes on such 
 terms, for their depredations at lambing time cause heavy 
 loss wherever they are at all plentiful. The mistaken 
 enthusiasts who introduced rabbits and foxes into 
 Australia can at least point to others as mistaken as 
 themselves. There is, for instance, the house sparrow, 
 a very undesirable immigrant, who has invaded the 
 country districts, and proved himself destructive and a 
 nuisance. He was introduced to Australia as an insect 
 killer, but careful examination of his diet shows that only 
 3 J per cent, of it consists of insects; the rest is grain 
 and seeds. This fraud multiplies at an unheard-of rate, 
 and persecutes and drives away the less hardy native 
 birds. Among vegetable pests, the prickly pear is 
 perhaps the worst, although in the worst of the great 
 drought it was shown to have its uses. The Scotch 
 thistle is another imported plant which has spread itself 
 far and wide, choking the valuable pastures, and render- 
 ing large grazing areas useless. The dog-rose, or sweet- 
 briar, has played the same part of unwelcome guest, 
 and there are further instances that could be adduced 
 in justification of the coldness with which Australians 
 now regard any attempt to acclimatise a new animal or 
 plant the use of which is not plainly apparent. 
 
 30 
 
WOOL PRESS IN A SHEARING SHED. 
 
 V^ 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 ON A SELECTION 
 
 * She helped him make a little home, 
 Where once were gum trees gaunt and stark, 
 And blood-woods waved green-feathered foam, 
 Working from dawn of day till dark, 
 Till that dark forest formed a frame 
 For vineyards that the gods might bless ; 
 And what was savage once became 
 An Eden in the wilderness.* 
 
 Victor Daley. 
 
 For the origin of the term * selector' v^e must go back 
 to an Act passed by the New South Wales Parliament in 
 1 86 1. Ten years had passed since the gold discoveries, 
 and many of the immigrants were clamouring for land 
 for farming purposes. A Land Act was accordingly 
 passed permitting the * selection ' of blocks of land from 
 forty to three hundred acres in extent, to be purchased 
 from the State by the selector on a system of instalment 
 payments. The Act even allowed the selection to be 
 made on areas leased as pastoral holdings, and soon the 
 squatters found the selectors occupying the most fertile 
 and best-watered patches on their runs. Thus began a 
 feud between squatter and selector, which is vigorously 
 maintained in some places at the present day. In 
 addition to the three hundred acres he may obtain by 
 purchase, the selector can * take up ' an additional area 
 of three hundred acres on leasehold, and may further 
 expand his holding by selecting in the name of his 
 
Australian Life 
 
 children under certain conditions. By these expedients 
 the selection can be made to assume very respectable 
 dimensions, and frequently its size hampers the selector 
 in the struggle upon which he enters to make for himself 
 and his family a home in the bush. 
 
 In the vernacular of the bush, the selector is a 
 'cockie,' and cockie is short for cockatoo farmer. He 
 is a cockatoo farmer because he works early and late to 
 clear a patch of ground and plough it. Then he sows 
 his seed, only to wake at dawn the next day and find his 
 field white with cockatoos, all busily devouring the grain. 
 Those cockatoos are the only crop he has, ' of all his 
 labour and vexation of his heart wherein he hath laboured 
 under the sun.' If not cockatoos, then rabbits, or locusts, 
 or drought may interfere to deprive him of the result of 
 his work. 
 
 The typical cockle's hut is remarkable for the size of 
 its clay fireplace, which is usually the nucleus of the 
 structure. Planning on an ambitious scale, cockie builds 
 his fireplace first, from bricks made of puddled clay 
 dried in the sun. To this he builds a hut of two or 
 three rooms, with sapling uprights and boarding of 
 shingles from the splitter's camp. Slabs of bark make 
 the roof, and the only materials purchased are a couple 
 of glazed window-sashes and a door. The bare earth 
 serves as floor, a slab table is knocked together and a 
 home-made form, and two or three gin-cases serve for 
 chairs. Beds are made by stretching canvas or hessian 
 upon sapling frames, and the house is ready for 
 occupation. 
 
 The cockie himself is a young Australian, who has had 
 several good seasons in the shearing-sheds, and has been 
 steady enough to save his cheques. His wife is a bush 
 girl, jolly, fond of fun and dancing, and equal to any 
 emergency. Chopping wood, milking cows, riding bare- 
 backed horses, and killing snakes are among her many 
 accompUshments, all of them of the greatest use on a 
 selection. Her domestic utensils are interesting. First 
 
 32 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 comes the camp oven, a large iron pot with three short 
 legs and a close-fitting lid. The camp oven is placed 
 in the fire, the ashes are heaped over it, and anything 
 can be baked in it from a loaf of bread to a leg of mutton. 
 An iron bar stretches across the fireplace, from which 
 there hangs by a hook the griddle — a plate of iron on 
 which scones and bannocks can be rapidly baked. The 
 inevitable frying-pan and billy-can complete the list, 
 unless a boiler improvised out of a large paraffin tin be 
 included. The same simplicity characterises the rest of 
 the household equipments, for the bush home is a stand- 
 ing argument in favour of the contention that many of 
 the supposed necessities of civilisation are in reality but 
 superfluities. With a dozen sheep, a few cows, and a 
 patient old horse, the cockie and his wife settle down to 
 the work of clearing and fencing their holding, brave and 
 resolute, and happy if they have but a few pounds in the 
 bank to keep them in their initial struggles. 
 
 So much for the beginnings. Let us now visit a 
 selection which has been taken up for some years. There 
 is the same hut, now sadly dilapidated, and with a lean- 
 to added to serve as a dairy, and another roughly 
 constructed room to provide sleeping accommodation for 
 the growing family of children. The selector may be 
 able to afford a much better habitation, and probably 
 intends to provide one. He will talk of a situation he 
 has chosen in every way superior to that he now occupies. 
 His wife, faded and prematurely aged with the hard 
 work, or the worry of a large family, looks forward with 
 a pathetic cheerfulness to the change. Meanwhile, what 
 is the use of trying to improve the old house ? So the 
 bark roof continues to leak, and the earthen floor to 
 become mud, while the door will not shut, or will not 
 open. These things are ignored as the selector talks of 
 the conveniences of the new house he means to build. 
 A walk around the selection shows that its owner is 
 master of every imaginable makeshift. * Dog leg ' fences, 
 made of long saplings, supported on improvised and 
 
 33 D 
 
Australian Life 
 
 shaky trestles, run crookedly between the paddocks, 
 inviting the stock to break through and stray. Valuable 
 machinery for harvesting lies unprotected and rusting in 
 dew and rain, waiting for the shelter-shed its owner is 
 just going to erect. The women folk have to carry their 
 water from the creek a quarter of a mile away, although 
 a pure and better supply could be obtained by sinking a 
 well near the house. The cultivation paddocks bristle 
 with stumps, the standing crop is fringed with a border 
 of dry grass, which might safely be burned off on a still 
 day. Some hot night the north wind will drive a bush 
 fire upon the selection, and the selector and his family 
 will have to fight the flames along that fringe of dry 
 grass, or see their year's work licked up by the fire. 
 Everything speaks of procrastination and makeshift ; his 
 very occupation of the soil is regarded by the cockie as 
 only a conditional permanence. 
 
 The day's work on the selection begins at * piccaninny 
 daylight,' when the stars are still shining in the grey 
 sky, and the birds are uttering their first sleepy calls. 
 Down into the horse-paddocks goes the eldest boy. 
 Having caught the quietest horse, he throws a sack across 
 it and drives the rest up to the yard. He slips a saddle 
 and bridle on his riding-horse, and at once sets off to 
 bring in the cows. By this time the whole bush is awake. 
 A party of kookaburras, perched on the big swamp gum 
 by the creek, are laughing at some joke of their ow^n, 
 and across the flats the magpies are fluting and carolling 
 out of sheer joy. Green parrots dart in shrieking flocks 
 from tree to tree in search of honey-laden eucalyptus 
 blossom. Startled by the hoof-falls, a grey w^allaby hops 
 through the scrub, making gigantic leaps in its fright. 
 The boy tears oft' a twig of eucalyptus to brush away the 
 tormenting flies, and with many a yell and shout drives 
 the lowing cows into the yard. 
 
 Then comes the work of milking, in which every one 
 takes part. When it is finished the boy has his breakfast, 
 while his father harnesses a horse to the spring-cart, in 
 
 34 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 which the milk, in a large tin vessel, is to be conveyed 
 to the butter factory. The money received for the milk 
 is the only regular source of income the selection can 
 boast, and the institution of these butter factories has 
 done much to make existence possible for the selector. 
 It would be interesting to trace the butter from the 
 factory to the big cool-storage depot in Melbourne or 
 Sydney, and thence by the refrigerating chamber of an 
 ocean-going steamer to its appearance on some English 
 or African breakfast-table. Meanwhile, having seen the 
 milk despatched, the cockie sits down to a breakfast of 
 milkless tea and butterless bread. Presently the boy 
 returns with his vessel of ' separated ' milk for the 
 consumption of the calves and pigs ; and now it is time 
 for school. 
 
 Anxiously the mother watches the children set off 
 along the bush track, each child with its dinner and 
 bottle of water in the bag with the school books. It is 
 four miles to the little school near the main road, and 
 the mother sighs as she thinks of the snakes and other 
 dangers of the track. That is part of the bush training, 
 however, and helps to make children fearless and resource- 
 ful. She has other things to think of, calves, pigs, and 
 poultry to feed, and dinner to prepare. Her husband rides 
 off in quest of some straying stock, and to mend the gap 
 in the field through which they have escaped. He meets 
 his neighbour, who is on the same errand, and a long 
 conversation ensues regarding the slackness of the Road 
 Board, the increase of rabbits in the district, and the 
 remissness of the local Member of Parliament. The 
 cockie is an ardent politician, and is only diverted from 
 his subject by the arrival of the local grazier, who repeats 
 a long-standing offer for some sheep which cockie 
 number two has for sale. After the usual chaffering 
 the matter is allowed to remain open, and all three go 
 off to their work. 
 
 At midday dinner is ready, and may consist of beef 
 salted and boiled, the remnant of a beast killed some 
 
 35 
 
Australian Life 
 
 time before. A plentiful allowance of pumpkin is served 
 with it, for the pumpkin patch repeats itself every year, 
 the self-sown plants thriving in a manner only possible 
 where the soil is very fertile. The scheme for a new 
 house includes a large vegetable garden, where onions, 
 tomatoes, and cabbages will grow luxuriantly, but until 
 then the pumpkin is the staple vegetable. Dinner is 
 washed down with plenty of scalding tea, after which the 
 selector lights his pipe and goes off to work again. 
 During the afternoon a swagman comes to the door, 
 with the stereotyped question, ' Any chance of a feed, 
 missus?' He is introduced to the wood heap and a 
 blunt axe, and if he is a genuine man — and he generally 
 is — he chops a pile of wood and carries water from the 
 creek while the inevitable tea is being prepared. A 
 meal is set before him, and he eats ravenously, chat- 
 ting between mouthfuls concerning the state of the 
 country he has just traversed. A pannikin of flour 
 and a *bit o' tea' send him on his way satisfied, to 
 camp for the night in a clump of low timber further 
 along the track. 
 
 And now the shadows are lengthening, and the 
 selector's wife goes down to the slip rails to wait for the 
 post-boy, who may have a letter or paper for her. The 
 bush Mercury comes ambling along the track on his 
 dusty pony, and, shaking his head in reply to her ques- 
 tioning look, rides by with a cheery ' Good evening.' 
 Shading her eyes from the setting sun she sees the 
 children straggling home from school, and turns back to 
 the house to get their tea ready. Then the cows have 
 to be milked once more, and the young stock tended, 
 which occupies everybody until it is quite dark. The 
 mother sets about putting the children to bed, but the 
 eldest boy whistles to his dog, and takes up his old single- 
 barrelled gun, looking wistfully at his father. The latter 
 'doesn't see why he shouldn't,' and the pair go off 
 amicably in search of 'possums, the skins of which will 
 be tanned and converted into a fine serviceable rug. 
 
 36 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 They are soon back, though, and at an early hour all are 
 in bed, enjoying a well-earned rest. 
 
 The bush folk have few pleasures, but they cannot be 
 said to take them sadly. They rather make the best of 
 things. When Christmas time comes, the boys go off 
 into the ranges and cut young cherry trees — which are 
 not cherry trees — and big fern leaves to decorate the 
 house with a brave show of green. A great slaughter of 
 poultry and sucking pigs takes place, and puddings are 
 boiled and cakes baked in readiness for the holiday. 
 Old friends come riding in, and brothers who were away 
 droving or shearing turn up unexpectedly, and sleep on 
 shakedowns before the kitchen fireplace. There is a good 
 deal of eating and jollity, and in the evening a visit is 
 paid to a neighbour's house, where the young people 
 dance to the strains of a concertina, while the staider 
 married folk gossip together, the men smoking their 
 pipes outside and discussing their unfailing politics. 
 
 On Boxing Day the selection is left to look after itself, 
 and the whole family drives off to the * sports ' in the 
 spring cart. There is provisioning on a liberal scale 
 from the substantial remnants of the Christmas feast, 
 and the family picnics happily under some shady gum 
 tree. The sports provide plenty of excitement, and if 
 the selector's driving on the homeward way is reckless 
 and erratic, well, it is not often he meets so many old 
 friends on one day. Show day is another bush holiday 
 very geaerally observed. There is much competition at 
 that time in live stock of all kinds, and prizes may be 
 won by housewives proud of their home-baked bread, or 
 their home-cured bacon and hams. The country is 
 looking its best at show time, for shows are held in the 
 early spring, when there are hopes of good crops and 
 a plentiful increase of live stock and poultry. These are 
 the interludes that break the monotony of the selector's 
 life, and prevent him from losing touch with old friends, 
 and becoming soured by the anxieties, disappointments, 
 and losses he has so constantly to face. 
 
 37 
 
Australian Life 
 
 Each summer brings for him ij:s harassing dread of 
 bush fires. He watches the grass turn brown beneath 
 the scorching sun, and counts the days until his standing 
 crop shall be ready for harvest. The passing swagman 
 is an object of painful interest, for a carelessly dropped 
 match or a camp fire left unextinguished may precipitate 
 a disaster. At last the wheat is cut and stacked in 
 stooks about the paddock, and the cockie works 
 feverishly to get it carted away to the thrashing machine 
 at work in the nearest township. Then he breathes more 
 freely, though he has still much to lose. The earth 
 cracks with the summer heat, week after week brings no 
 rain, and the hot north wind is charged with a smell of 
 burning greenery. Then, one evening, when the sun 
 goes down a fiery crimson ball, a red glare warns him of 
 the approaching danger. All the live stock, kept near 
 the house as a precaution against such an emergency, is 
 quickly driven into the bare yard, and then the settler 
 and his family cut branches to beat the fire out. It 
 comes down on them with incredible rapidity, first a 
 cloud of choking smoke shot with sparks, and in a 
 moment the dry grass beneath their feet is crackling into 
 flame. They beat the fire out with their green branches, 
 scarcely glancing at the pranks it is playing all around 
 them. The flames run up the loose hanging bark of 
 a big gum tree, and it bursts into a sheet of flame, 
 threatening the little homestead with burning branches 
 falling from above. It reaches the dry stubble and 
 sweeps across it with a glad roar. Three weeks ago the 
 crop would have met with the same fate, but the settler 
 and his family have no time to notice these things. 
 They beat the flames down, walking among them with 
 singeing clothes and blistering hands. They are fighting 
 for their home, and the terrified animals that huddle 
 around it in helpless terror. Some neighbours, fortunate 
 enough to be out of the zone of fire, come riding at top 
 speed down the tracks to their assistance. Just in time, 
 too, for the dry fencing is all ablaze, and the fire ring is 
 
 38 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 closing in. Buckets of water are hastily brought, and 
 the branches do their work more effectually after a 
 drenching. The fight is resumed with new vigour, for 
 the worst of the fire has passed. It is sweeping through 
 the country a mile away, leaving in its track a wake of 
 blazing trees, charred fences, and blackened soil. But 
 the home is saved and the stock as well, and the settlers, 
 with blackened faces and smoke-reddened eyes, con- 
 gratulate one another that it is no worse. Next day the 
 selector is able to estimate the extent of his misfortune. 
 Fences burned everywhere, not a mouthful of feed left 
 on his selection to keep the stock alive until the rain 
 comes ! Ah, well ! it might have been worse. He must 
 pay for pasturing the stock in somebody's paddock until 
 the grass shoots again, and he is lucky to have saved his 
 crop and so to be able to find the money. 
 
 Bush fire is not the only disaster the selector is called 
 upon to face. The rainy season may swell the little 
 creek that runs through the selection until it overflows 
 its banks, and floods the paddocks. Then the selector 
 looks across a waste of waters, and can only hope that 
 they will not cover the little islands of high ground where 
 his animals have taken refuge. He may work hard with 
 his neighbours to carry out the instructions issued by the 
 Government for the destruction of the eggs and young of 
 the locusts, only to find his green crop devoured by a 
 swarm nurtured somewhere else. Rabbits and other 
 pests, both animal and vegetable, are always with him, 
 and he sows his seed without any certainty of reaping 
 a harvest. There is little cause to wonder that this un- 
 certainty has made the selector a fataUst with a creed of 
 * what is to be will be.' His makeshifts, his procrastina- 
 tions are only his preparation for some final disaster, 
 which may leave him beaten and penniless, to take up 
 the thread of existence bravely in some new place. He 
 fights doggedly on, but he digs no garden, and plants no 
 pleasant shade trees round his bush home. He has an 
 ideal of a land where the seasons are regular and life can 
 
 39 
 
Australian Life 
 
 be well ordered and arranged without the necessity of 
 pitting the work of a year against the caprice of nature. 
 Sometimes, when drought and hard times press too 
 severely upon him, he sells out and emigrates to Canada, 
 South Africa, or the Argentine, in the hope of finding his 
 ideal there. But he usually struggles on, with the hope 
 of better times before him, fighting drought, bush fire, 
 and the mortgagee with a dogged courage worthy of all 
 success. The Australian newspaper man delights to 
 write of the selector as the * backbone of the country,' 
 and as usual the newspaper man is not far away from the 
 truth. 
 
 40 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE NEVER-NEVER LAND 
 
 * They had told ns of pastures wide and green, 
 To be sought past the sunset's glow, 
 Of rifts in the ranges by opals lit, 
 
 And gold 'neath the river's flow. 
 And thirst and hunger were banished words, 
 When they spoke of that unknown West ; 
 No drought they dreaded, no flood they feared, 
 Where the pelican builds her nest.' 
 
 Mary H. Foott. 
 
 More than one-half of Australia consists of country still 
 unexplored or only partially explored. Across the un- 
 explored portions there are written on the map such words 
 as ' great sandy desert.' Year by year the dimensions of 
 these map areas are being reduced, and more is being 
 learned of the nature and resources of those uninviting 
 wastes from which the early explorers turned back in 
 despair, or where they laid down their lives in the vain 
 attempt to fathom secrets that are still unsolved. The 
 mystery of that unknown region makes its appeal even 
 to the Australian who spends his life in the fringe of 
 settled land that lies along the sea-coast. To the bush- 
 men who have seen it, now fair and smiling, and decked 
 like a garden with glowing flowers, and again a forbidding 
 and arid wilderness, the Never-Never Land, unknown 
 and only partially known, is a magnet that draws them 
 on to adventure. It holds fortune, and it holds death. 
 
 41 
 
Australian Life 
 
 ' Out on the plains of the Never-Never, 
 That's where the dead men lie,' 
 
 wrote Barcroft Boake. For more than fifty years, the 
 Never-Never Land has held one secret that many bold 
 men have failed to wrest from it — the fate of Ludwig 
 Leichhardt. In 1848 Leichhardt set out from the Darling 
 Downs in Queensland, following the course of the river 
 Barcoo, with the intention of striking west across Australia 
 in the direction of Perth. He and his party were swallowed 
 up by the desert, and from that day to this their fate 
 remains a mystery. Expeditions were fitted out in the 
 hope of, at least, tracing them to their last camp, but in 
 vain. No explorer goes out at the present day without 
 some faint expectation of discovering an explanation of 
 their total disappearance, but not one vestige of the 
 expedition has been found. And Ludwig Leichhardt is 
 but one of the many victims of the Never-Never Land. 
 
 If the risks are great, the rewards also are great. In 
 the year 1892, two prospectors named Bayley and Ford, 
 both good bushmen, ventured a little further than their 
 fellows away from the edge of the known country into the 
 heart of the unknown. Three months later the whole 
 world was talking of the richness of the new Coolgardie 
 goldfields, and the two bold adventurers were the owners 
 of the famous mine called Bayley's Reward, which pro- 
 duced ore that held more gold than stone. Ten years 
 later, a big city, lit by electric light and connected with 
 the far distant coast by a long railway, stood on the 
 ground over which they had been the first white men to 
 walk. A big slice was lopped off the western edge of 
 the Never-Never country by the enterprise and daring of 
 those two successful prospectors. 
 
 It is characteristic of Australian hopefulness that the 
 pastoralist as well as the prospector has found his way 
 into the half-known country, and is pasturing his sheep 
 and bullocks on some of the most fertile parts of it. The 
 conditions of pastoral life in these remote back stations 
 contrast strangely with the luxury and convenience of 
 
 42 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 the homes of the squatters who settled in the early days 
 on well-watered runs near the coast. A small wooden 
 house, with a glaring roof of galvanised iron, stands in 
 the midst of a wilderness of scrub. The furniture of the 
 hut — it is little more — is of the most primitive description, 
 for the manager is a bachelor, and so are the jackaroos 
 and the few station hands. There, from one rainy season 
 to another, these men are engaged in their desperate 
 struggle to keep stock alive, always hoping that the next 
 season will bring better fortune; that is, more rain. 
 They have water, at least, although it is muddy and 
 yellow, or has to be boiled and skimmed before they may 
 drink it. But all around them there is a belt of bad 
 country, so dry that it is impossible to move their stock 
 across it, if they wished to. Their stores come to them 
 once every three months by camel train, and the sight 
 of a fresh white face is a rarity. There is little cause to 
 wonder that, after a time, this isolated life of hardship has 
 its effect upon the character of the men who lead it, and 
 that some of them become morbid and others hopeless 
 and desperate. 
 
 When the long-expected good seasons at last come, 
 these outback stations begin to justify their existence. 
 Soon there is plenty of feed everywhere, and the list- 
 less sheep and hollow-sided cattle become round and 
 sleek. Even in the worst of the bad country there is 
 at last some feed and water, and now is the chance 
 to send all the surplus stock to market. This is the 
 busy time of the drovers. On these stations in the 
 Never-Never country the marketable cattle have perhaps 
 been accumulating for three years, and now, in mobs 
 of a thousand or more, they are being despatched from 
 the far-away Gulf country to the Southern and Eastern 
 markets. Each mob is in charge of a band of stockmen, 
 who think nothing of a three months' journey across the 
 silent central plain behind their restless herd of cattle. 
 In advance of the mob the cook drives his cart, ever on 
 the look-out, as nightfall approaches, for a suitable place 
 
 43 
 
Australian Life 
 
 for the camp. Behind the cart a few spare horses are 
 led in halters, for the use of the eight or ten mounted 
 drovers in charge of the herd of cattle that follows. 
 See them coming, a thousand great lumbering bullocks, 
 packed in one dense mob, with the men, tanned and 
 picturesque, sitting so easily on the clever stock-horses 1 
 Every man has his eyes upon the herd, for they have not 
 been long upon the route, and are awkward to drive 
 because they have not yet found their travelling legs. 
 The stock-whips sound from time to time with a report 
 like the discharge of a rifle, as some discontented animal 
 makes an attempt to break away from his fellows. In 
 another month or so, if all goes well, the bullocks will 
 have become used to travelling, and the necessity for 
 constant vigilance will have ceased to exist. 
 
 When evening comes the drovers find their camp 
 pitched and a meal ready for them, but their day's work 
 is by no means over. The cattle are rounded up, and 
 after a feed may settle down quietly, many of them lying 
 down and chewing the cud. Then some of the drovers 
 'turn in,' but the mob must be watched all night. 
 Those dark Australian nights are still and silent. In the 
 clear sky above, now a dark violet blue, myriads of stars 
 blaze whitely, affording the watchers just enough light to 
 see the dark forms of the ruminating beasts. Suddenly 
 one of the drovers notices a movement among them, as, 
 startled by something vague and unascertainable, a dozen 
 of the animals stumble to their feet. In a very few 
 moments the terror has been communicated to the whole 
 mob, and with a bellow of fright the ringleaders dash 
 away. The men rush for their horses, giving their sleep- 
 ing mates warning of the danger, and by the time the 
 mob is on the move, the cattlemen are spurring their 
 horses after them. A wild ride in the dark night begins, 
 when man and horse dash through the gaps in the mass 
 of terrified beasts and do their utmost to reach the head 
 of the flying mob. Should a horse happen to stumble 
 and fall, neither he nor his rider may hope to rise again 
 
 44 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 from under the hoofs of the maddened beasts behind them. 
 There is only one hope of checking the stampede, and 
 that is to force through the press and face the leaders 
 with the stinging stock-whip. Already one or two of the 
 best mounted and most experienced drovers are in the 
 front ranks, and the great whips are lashing the faces of 
 the foremost beasts, checking them and throwing them 
 back upon those behind them. The speed of the mob 
 is slackened, and more drovers fight their way through 
 to the front. The bullocks are suddenly brought to a 
 standstill, and with lowered heads and heaving sides circle 
 round and round as though considering how they may 
 again break away. An unsuccessful attempt or two in 
 this direction complete their subjugation, and the mob 
 goes meekly back to its camping-place, all the more 
 manageable for the experience. 
 
 The Western plains, bare and dusty a few months 
 before, are now knee deep in waving grass and trefoil, 
 and day after day the drovers press their mob forward, 
 ever southward and eastward. Long days in the saddle 
 and still nights of vigil beneath the moon and stars : the 
 life is exacting, but it has its share of excitement or of 
 pleasure. Henry Lawson, the Australian poet, describes 
 it in one vigorous stanza — 
 
 * The drovers of the great stock routes 
 
 The strange Gulf country know, 
 Where, travelling from the Southern droughts, 
 
 The big lean bullocks go ; 
 And, camped by night, where plains lie wide 
 
 Like some old ocean's bed, 
 The watchmen in the starlight ride 
 
 Round fifteen hundred head.' 
 
 In time they reach more settled country, and the 
 farthest terminus of the longest railway line. Then 
 the mob breaks up, some being trucked away to the big 
 cities on the coast, and some going to the refrigerating 
 works to be turned into chilled beef or extract of meat. 
 The Australian city dweller, whose business or pleasure 
 
 45 
 
Australian Life 
 
 takes him out into the streets in those quiet hours of the 
 morning when the blackness of night is just turning to 
 grey, may sometimes see the mob of cattle on the last 
 stage of its long journey. It is a strange sight for city 
 streets : the wild-eyed bullocks, terrified by their novel 
 surroundings, rushing down the empty thoroughfares, 
 with the dusty stockmen on their patient horses, watchful 
 as ever, riding behind. A few days later the same 
 stockmen, brown faced and steadfast of gaze, may be 
 seen in the city theatres and restaurants, or out on the 
 race-course. But a week or two of the city is quite 
 enough for them, and they return to the Western plains 
 with the newest songs stored in their memories to cheer 
 the long hours of vigil round the camp fires. 
 
 Along the stock routes, too, may be encountered large 
 flocks of placid sheep, slowly but surely making their 
 way across the continent. Each day sees the men in 
 charge of them only a few miles nearer their destination, 
 and on arriving at an area of good country, after travelling 
 where pasture is scanty, the sheep have to be spelled for 
 some days to recover their lost condition. A whole year 
 may elapse during one of these long journeys, for the 
 drover's route sometimes leads from one edge of the 
 continent to the other. Fewer men are required for 
 droving sheep than for cattle, and the sagacious sheep- 
 dogs save the anxiety of watchfulness which is part of 
 the cattleman's life. The drover usually rides on horse- 
 back behind his flock of sheep, although, of late years, 
 cycling drovers may occasionally be encountered. There 
 are other wayfarers in these Australian solitudes. A 
 cloud of dust marks the progress of three bullock waggons, 
 laden with bales of wool, each drawn by a long team 
 of sixteen or eighteen bullocks. Beside each team walks 
 the bullock driver, armed with a long-handled whip, but 
 he relies less upon this than upon word of mouth for the 
 direction of his stubborn team. 
 
 But in the Never-Never country, neither bullock nor 
 horse teams can compare with the camel for usefulness, 
 
 46 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 and during the decade of dry years which concluded in 
 1903, the ' Hooshta-man ' has largely supplanted both 
 bullocks and teamster in the arid West. The camel- ^ 
 train is both cheaper and more expeditious. According 
 to an Australian pastoral paper, published in 1902, the 
 cost of transport by camel was but little more than half 
 that demanded by the teamsters, while delivery was 
 effected in one-half the time. A train of fifty camels 
 with oriental drivers provides a spectacle more frequently 
 associated with the oldest civilisation than with the 
 youngest. Yet on the sandy plains of the interior, under 
 the cloudless skies and burning Australian sun, it pos- 
 sesses nothing of the incongruous. The ungainly beasts 
 sway along, each secured to its immediate neighbour by 
 a nose cord, which serves to keep the train in line. The 
 foremost camel of all, usually the handsomest and most 
 serviceable beast in the train, is gay with gorgeous 
 trappings of silk, decorated with swinging tassels and 
 glittering coins and shells. Perched on his back sits 
 the Afghan driver, in his blue coat and spacious white 
 trousers, and crowned with a huge red turban. Every 
 camel has its load : sometimes a bale of wool on either 
 side, or it may be the cumbrous parts of an instalment 
 of machinery for some gold mine far away in the soli- 
 tudes; while with every train may be found several 
 animals burdened with small iron tanks of water. The 
 camels themselves will go without water for five or six 
 days, but when it is obtainable will drink a surprising 
 quantity of the fluid wdthout appearing to satisfy their 
 thirst. The camel is a welcome adjunct to desert 
 Australia, but the Australians take exception to the 
 Afghan drivers for many reasons. Up to the present, 
 however, it has not been made clear that the white man 
 is able to manage a train of sour-tempered camels, the 
 animals apparently making some distinction betw^een the 
 light skins and dark in favour of the latter. Therefore 
 the man who cries * Hooshta ' in the wilderness is usually 
 an alien, w^hich is quite enough to make the average 
 
 47 
 
Australian Life 
 
 Australian prejudiced against the camel and all his 
 surroundings. 
 
 The introduction of the camel into Australia was due 
 to some of the more ambitious exploring ventures in 
 the middle of the last century, and the finest and most 
 serviceable camels to be seen are the descendants from 
 this stock. Their worth was so fully proved during the 
 early days of the Western Australian gold-fields that many 
 animals were imported with their drivers from India and 
 Afghanistan, but they have not proved so tractable and 
 useful as the stock reared in Australia. 
 
 In the Australian interior occur those salt lakes that, 
 for the greater part of the year, are lakes only in name 
 and appearance. Seen from a distance they are vast 
 sheets of shimmering water, dotted with islands robed 
 in the freshest green. A closer examination shows them 
 to be only lake beds coated with a glittering saline 
 incrustation, while the fair prospect of island and green 
 forest disappears. Everywhere in this region water may 
 be obtained by digging, but it is as salt as the sea, or 
 at least so brackish as to be quite undrinkable. Not 
 very long ago, as time is counted in the history of the 
 universe, this land was the ocean bed, and now when 
 the rays of the sun light these great sand basins, the 
 whiteness of the salt turns to a shimmering silver, and 
 from a distance it seems as though the sea were still 
 there — silent, misty, and boundless. The explorers tell 
 tales of strange mirages of ships under full sail, but 
 inverted so that the tip of the masts met the mast tips 
 of a lower ship, apparently the reflection in the water of 
 the topmost one. Between these salt lakes are sand 
 hummocks, where the stiff spinifex grass grows, in spite 
 of the aridity and saltness of the soil. 
 
 The past twelve years have seen the Australian losing 
 ground in the Never-Never Land. Runs have been 
 abandoned, and the discomfited or ruined run-holder 
 has retreated nearer the coast. * There is now less of 
 settled Australia than there was twenty years ago,' wrote 
 
 48 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 a mournful Australian, *for the drought has driven in 
 many of the men who had gone out back.' But at the 
 end of the year 1902 came the break-up of the drought. 
 Lakes that have been dry for ten years now hold ten 
 feet of water, and creeks are running that have season 
 after season been choked with dust. The past of 
 Australia points to the fact that a cycle of good seasons 
 is at hand, when flocks and herds will double themselves 
 in one year and repeat the process the next, while there 
 is abundance of rich pasture for all. Then, gaining 
 confidence, the adventurers will return one by one to 
 the alluring back country, richer for the experience 
 of the past. Already the enterprising Australians are 
 planning to pierce it with a railway from east to west, 
 and with another from south to north. They may be 
 driven back for a time, but they will never rest until the 
 last secret it holds is wrested from the Never-Never 
 country. 
 
 Meanwhile, it is there, and supplies the element of 
 mystery and the touch of imagination to the life of a 
 people that is, in the main, essentially practical and 
 utilitarian. The city clerk, hurrying to his work through 
 the crowded streets, feels on his face the fierce north 
 wind that has blown over a thousand miles of arid sand, 
 and is reminded of the solitude and the great emptiness 
 of the desert on the fringe of which he lives. The 
 selector's wife, shading her eyes from the sun just setting 
 over the western ranges, pictures her absent husband 
 toiling behind the slow-moving sheep across the level 
 plains far away beyond the ranges. The bushmen them- 
 selves tell wonderful stories of the treasures hidden away 
 in the far solitudes * where the pelican builds her nest,' 
 and it inspires the poets and writers with something of 
 its own mystery and strange beauty. * The wind,' writes 
 one, * comes to you over the great uninhabited spaces, 
 desolate grey distances, and you feel somehow or other 
 that it would have a better story to tell, and a sweeter 
 and more familiar appeal to your heart, if it had the 
 
 49 E 
 
Australian Life 
 
 human note in it, if its sounds were lightened with a 
 laugh or saddened with a sigh. ... All Australia in its 
 waste places is waiting for live men with the fire of life 
 in them, and a power of hand and brain to translate 
 what is barren and unlovely into something that shall be 
 of use to man, and beautiful as his desire.' 
 
 There, in a word, is the problem that remains to be 
 solved by the great Australian statesman. It is a con- 
 tinent of three million square miles, and contains less 
 than four million people, and yet the history of recent 
 years shows how few immigrants are arriving to fill the 
 empty places. For more than ten years immigration 
 has been at a standstill, while the surplus millions of 
 the old world have been pouring into America and Africa. 
 Recognising this, the pohticians are at last abandoning 
 their cry of * Australia for the Australians,' and are casting 
 about for means whereby they may provide Australians 
 for Australia. 
 
 50 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 ON THE WALLABY TRACK 
 
 * I AM not ashamed to confess that I have had to carry 
 my swag in my time,' declared an Australian Premier 
 not very long ago. Hundreds of men occupying positions 
 of wealth and influence in Australia could truthfully make 
 the same avowal, for upon the wallaby track, as upon the 
 high seas, may be found men of all sorts and conditions. 
 Long ago an Australian public man defined the swagman - 
 as one who goes about looking for work, and praying 
 devoutly that he may never find it. The epigram has, to 
 a certain extent, passed into a tradition, although it is 
 manifestly unjust to all but a very small proportion of 
 the men who carry their swags through the Australian 
 bush. 
 
 The existence of the swagman proclaims nothing so 
 loudly as the uncertainty and precarious nature of 
 pastoral employment in Australia. If there is one thing 
 upon which the farmer and pastoralist can rely, it is a 
 regular supply of competent men for the busy time of 
 shearing, lamb-marking, drafting, and harvesting. There 
 is no difficulty in obtaining the extra labour required at 
 these seasons, and no question of paying railway fares or 
 incurring any unnecessary expense. In any district 
 where there is a prospect of obtaining such work, the 
 man with the swag may be found, and he is usually a 
 capable and experienced labourer. If he is not, his 
 prospect of obtaining work, or of keeping it should he 
 
 51 
 
Australian Life 
 
 obtain it, is a very slight one. The system, as far as it 
 has been outlined, is absolutely a convenient one for the 
 pastoralist, who is able to pick and choose among the 
 many men who continually apply for work, and to replace 
 an incompetent man at a day's notice with one thoroughly 
 up to his work. But the system has engendered an 
 unwritten bush law, which entails a considerable expense 
 upon the station-owners, and probably is responsible for 
 much of the obloquy which has been heaped upon the 
 * swaggie.' 
 
 The law in question, the observance of which has 
 become one of the standing grievances of the pastoralist, 
 is that every swagman asking for work shall at least be 
 given food enough to carry him on to the next station. 
 It need hardly be said that the hospitality extended to 
 the man with the swag varies in degree and in kind. 
 Some station owners decline to observe the rule at all, 
 and advertise that all applications for work must be made 
 to their accredited agent in some neighbouring township. 
 Others expect some work to be performed in return, 
 such as the cutting of firewood or the carrying of water. 
 Others give a ration of flour and of uncooked meat, 
 while the few adhere to the old order of things by 
 providing a hut for the men's accommodation, and tea 
 and sugar and even tobacco as well as flour and meat. 
 The station owners whose treatment of the swagman is 
 based on so liberal a scale argue that the expense is 
 justified in many ways. On their runs lighted matches 
 are not likely to be dropped in the dry grass, gates are 
 not left open, or fences broken down, and in many other 
 ways the friendly feeling of the swagmen saves them 
 from annoyance and loss. 
 
 There is, of course, a class which abuses this hospi- 
 tality, loafing from station to station and sponging upon 
 all who will encourage them. Many of these * sundowners ' 
 have a regular round, and show some ingenuity in evading 
 the danger of work ; but the normal condition of the 
 pastoral districts does not encourage theii* existence. In 
 
 52 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 Australia the natural habitat of the professional idler at 
 the present day is in one of the big cities, and the sun- 
 downer, as a rule, is a survival or a tradition of a past era. 
 
 The man in search of work in the bush has his own 
 title for himself and for others similarly situated. He 
 may be a man of some substance, who rides a good 
 horse, and leads another on which are packed all the 
 necessities for travel. He may strap his heavy swag to 
 the handle-bars of a bicycle, and, hanging his other 
 impedimenta picturesquely on the frame of the machine, 
 plug earnestly over the dusty roads and rugged tracks of 
 the back country. Or he may sling *bluey' over his 
 shoulders, and, with waterbag in one hand and billy-can 
 in the other, tramp steadfastly along the wallaby tracks 
 with a trusted mate. In any case he is a * traveller,' 
 and does not care to be referred to by any other term. 
 
 Among travellers the man who rides his own horse 
 enjoys a deserved prestige. His application for work is 
 likely to receive first consideration from managers and 
 owners of stations. When he wishes to replenish his 
 * tucker bag,' he can usually approach the station store- 
 keeper with money in his hand; for he is careful to 
 preserve his status. From the tucker-bag, a sort of 
 pillow slip with the mouth in the middle, which is slung 
 across the front of the saddle so that a bulging end 
 hangs down on either side, he gets his bush name of 
 'bag-man.' The bag-man, who is generally a shearer 
 first and a handy-man when shearing is over, probably 
 has a round of stations where he can rely upon a pen at 
 shearing time, as well as station work of other kinds. 
 
 The old order of bushmen still affect to look down 
 upon the bush cyclist as an innovation and a destroyer 
 of time-honoured customs and practices. There can be no 
 doubt of the genuine utility of the bicycle to the bushman, 
 who contrives to cover immense distances on his machine, 
 and to carry with him a quantity of luggage that would 
 probably surprise the city cyclist. It is on record that 
 one of these men rode seven hundred miles in eleven 
 
 53 
 
Australian Life 
 
 days on a bicycle which, with the belongings he had 
 fastened upon it, weighed more than a hundred pounds. 
 No bush track is too rough for the shearer cycHst, and 
 the impromptu repairs sometimes effected in an emergency, 
 if somewhat unorthodox, nevertheless bear testimony to 
 the ingenuity and versatility of the Australian bushman. 
 
 But the real hero of the wallaby track is the footman, 
 who, with his swag slung over his shoulder and his billy 
 in his hand, tramps from one edge of the continent to 
 the other with a patient courage that is not always 
 recognised. The man who can camp with a couple of 
 these travellers, sharing their billy of tea and halving 
 with them his plug of tobacco, may go away enriched by 
 many a story grimly humorous or charged with valuable 
 human experience. The man with the swag faces the 
 hardship of his life with a brave jest, as the very argot of 
 the wallaby track will testify. He declares, with a rueful 
 look at his swag, that he is * waltzing with Matilda,' 
 calling up by the quaint simile a laughable vision of 
 some heavy-footed bush girl unskilled in the dance. 
 The rags that serve him for socks are ' Prince Alberts ; ' 
 he lodges each night in * the Moon and Stars Hotel, 
 ground floor.' He illustrates the uneventfulness of his 
 life and the taciturnity it induces by a story which may 
 be heard in some form or other in any part of Australia, 
 and has been christened *The Great Australian Joke.' 
 One variant of it runs as follows : — 
 
 Two mates, Bill and Jim, were carrying their swags 
 through a very inhospitable stretch of country, and both 
 were completely down on their luck. One afternoon 
 they passed a dry waterhole, on the edge of which was 
 the not unusual adornment of a dead beast. When they 
 had left it some distance behind them. Bill opened his 
 mouth for the first time that day, saying, ' Jim, did you 
 see that dead bullock ? ' About dusk they came to a 
 creek where they camped, lit a fire, and made a damper 
 and a billy of tea. A couple of pipes were smoked, and 
 as blankets were being unrolled, Jim also spoke, saying, 
 
 54 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 ' It wasn't a bullock, it was a horse/ When the sun rose 
 next day, a scorching hot wind was blowing but the 
 travellers had to push on, for the tucker bags were nearly 
 empty and they were in bad country. As the sun grew 
 more and more powerful, they felt the necessity for 
 camping and a rest, but they came to no water, and 
 must needs tramp wearily on. Suddenly Bill threw his 
 swag angrily on the ground, and turning fiercely upon 
 Jim, spoke yet again, saying, * There's too much blessed 
 argument about this outfit for me.' 
 
 The philosophy learned upon the wallaby track 
 teaches those who walk it to mock at their own mis- 
 fortunes, and to meet privation, hardship, and danger 
 with a jest upon their lips. The traveller sets out on 
 a long journey with an equipment that, at the first glance, 
 would appear to be ludicrously inadequate. When un- 
 rolled, his swag consists of nothing more than a pair of 
 coarse blue blankets, a few spare garments, and some 
 odds and ends, hardly worth the trouble of carrying. 
 With a few shiUings in his pocket, to be husbanded most 
 economically, and enough flour, tea, and sugar to last 
 him a week, he is ready for the track. 
 
 Of course, the experienced traveller is master of all 
 sorts of devices to make life on the track more bearable. 
 There is an art in the very rolling of the swag, and in 
 the adjustment of the straps which secure the ends to 
 that which forms the loop through which the arm is 
 passed, which materially lessens the weight of the swag- 
 man's burden. It requires experience to make a light 
 and palatable damper, just of the right thickness, and 
 neither doughy nor hardbaked, and the compounding of 
 billy tea has been reduced to a science, upon which 
 lengthy essays have been written. The billy-can, a tin 
 pot with a wire handle across the top, and usually 
 fitted with a lid, is the swagman's only cooking utensil. 
 He may carry two, one fitting inside the order^ the 
 larger one being used for boiling meat, while the smaller 
 one is at once kettle and teapot. The praises of billy 
 
 55 
 
Australian Life 
 
 tea have been sung by all who have picniced in the bush, 
 its excellence being probably due to the infusion of the 
 tea leaves at the very moment when the water is begin- 
 ning to boil. At this critical juncture, the bushman 
 throws in a handful of cheap tea, and a good allowance 
 of moist brown sugar, stirring vigorously with a twig of 
 eucalyptus. The billy is then set aside for a moment 
 while the tea leaves settle, and the brew is drunk scald- 
 ing hot from quart pots known as * pannikins.' 
 
 It sometimes happens that a number of travellers 
 meet at a favourite camping-plac^ when a billy boiling 
 contest may ensue. Many bushmen are proud of the 
 possession of a billy that is a quick boiler, that is, old 
 and worn thin, but kept free from any coating of non- 
 conducting soot. But billy-boiling contests usually 
 resolve themselves into questions of individual skill in 
 the management of a camp fire. In the great tragedy of 
 the bush, the billy-can also plays its part, for when the 
 traveller has turned by mistake along the lonely track 
 that leads nowhere, and finds himself without water or 
 food in the heart of a pathless waste, he scratches his 
 dying message upon the billy-can. Sometimes it is his 
 name, or a few words that tell the whole story of the 
 tragedy, which is still so usual an event in the *back 
 country ' as to pass almost without comment. 
 
 There are other signs which distinguish the experienced 
 * traveller,' in addition to his workmanlike swag and the 
 deftness with which he provides for his own comfort in 
 camp. He generally knows the country well ; possesses 
 a ready tact in dealing with station-owners, managers, 
 storekeepers, and cooks, which ensures full tucker bags, 
 and adds to his fare by considerable skill in fishing and 
 trapping. He also knows where work is likely to be got, 
 and it must be said for him that, having once gained 
 employment, he is as industrious and versatile a labourer 
 as could be found anywhere on the face of the earth. 
 Shearing, fencing, tank-digging, horse-breaking, and a 
 score of other accomplishments are at the tips of his 
 
 56 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 fingers, and yet this handy-man of the bush can only 
 expect partial employment. Few swagmen are in work 
 for more than six months out of the twelve. 
 
 His real weakness is disclosed when the work is over, 
 and with a good cheque in his pocket he once more rolls 
 his swag and turns his face to the east and home. He 
 knows by past experience that his only chance of making 
 that fresh start in life of which he so often talks is to 
 keep his cheque intact until he reaches his destination. 
 But the bush public-house, with the grinning obsequious 
 landlord, and the girl smirking behind the bar, proves an 
 irresistible attraction. Just a drink or so resolves itself 
 into a day's steady soaking. The cheque passes into 
 the keeping of the landlord, and when the bushman 
 finally regains sobriety, after a week's steady spreeing, it 
 is only to learn that he has spent all his earnings except 
 a very small balance. With curses upon his own folly, 
 and many resolves not to repeat the experience next 
 time, he once more faces the wallaby track, and the heart- 
 breaking search for work which is so difficult to obtain. 
 
 It may be that if it were not for the bush shanty and 
 the bad liquor sold in it, the number of travellers on the 
 Austrahan bush tracks would be lessened by more than 
 half, and the pastoral ist, instead of complaining of the 
 drain upon his stores, would grumble at the scarcity of 
 experienced labour. The steady swagman usually 
 becomes a selector in time, and marries and settles down 
 in his own bush home. The failure of his crops may 
 drive him out upon the tracks again, to knock together a 
 cheque while his wife looks after the home and the stock. 
 That, however, is only a temporary expedient, and after 
 the shearing or the fencing contract is over, he will 
 return to his clearing with money in his pocket and 
 hopeful of better seasons. Some of the neatest and 
 most prosperous little homesteads in the Australian 
 agricultural districts have been won by men who began 
 with a cheque earned while they were carrying their 
 swags in the * back country.' 
 
 57 
 
Australian Life 
 
 It is the drinking, improvident man who carries the 
 swag all through his life, and ends on some wholly 
 forgotten track with the crows blackening the trees above 
 him. The hardships of the life, and the constant ex- 
 posure to weather of all kinds, must have their effect 
 even upon the hardest constitutions, and the excesses 
 indulged in play their part in wrecking the swagman's 
 health. Many end their days in the country hospitals, 
 which are so largely supported by collections taken up 
 at every shearing-shed, and to which the swagman has 
 usually contributed generously at some time in his 
 career. Even the old-age pension, which the needy who 
 are past work can obtain in some of the Australian 
 States, is not for the swagman, whose wanderings from 
 State to State deprive him of the right to claim this dole. 
 
 In spite of the hardships and disadvantages of the 
 life, however, the swagman may be found on every road 
 and track in Australia. He is an object of suspicion, 
 and liable at any moment to find himself accused of 
 some crime of which he may not even have heard. He 
 is accounted the cause of all bush fires, and is judged by 
 the worst specimens of his class and not by the average. 
 And yet, having once learned the fascination of the open 
 road, it never loses its charm for him. I have an old 
 friend, settled now in a pleasant town on the Victorian 
 coast, with money in the bank, won by him on the 
 Western Australian goldfields. To use his own term, 
 he is ' an independent man.' But when spring comes 
 and old Ben gets a whiff of the bursting wattle, the call 
 of the open road proves irresistible. He says he must 
 go and have a look at the country, and accordingly 
 greases his bluchers and rolls his swag, and with a whistle 
 to his dog is off afoot. A month later he comes back 
 looking younger, and full of bush tidings. Some * chaps ' 
 have bottomed on good wash dirt over the range from 
 Lonely Gully, where he had always said the indications 
 were favourable. An old crony in the Wimmera district 
 has just put in another acre of vines, and complained 
 
 58 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 that the parrots, worse than ever this year, have not left 
 him a single cherry. The farmers in the Mailee are 
 complaining of the locusts already, and he (Ben) would 
 like to know whether the Government ever will do any- 
 thing about it ; and so on, with many a yarn of bird and 
 beast observed by the way, of bush publicans, civil and 
 uncivil, and of * chaps ' hard-up or humping their swag 
 in deadly earnest. Old Ben likes it all. May he live 
 many a long year to carry his swag through the glad 
 bush in the first joyous flush of spring ! 
 
 59 
 
Australian Life 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 IN TIME OF DROUGHT 
 
 The prosperity of pastoral Australia depends upon the 
 rainfall, and as the dying autumn ushers in the rainy 
 season the squatter waits with anxiety for the first signs 
 of the change of seasons. The average annual rainfall of 
 the greater part of pastoral Australia is no more than 
 twenty inches, although in some districts a much greater 
 amount of moisture may be expected. When the long- 
 expected rains come, there is a succession of heavy 
 drenching showers, which fill the lagoons and waterholes, 
 and convert the trickling creek beds and dry water- 
 courses into foaming yellow rivers. Afterwards comes 
 the sun, causing the grass to shoot up bravely, and every 
 shrub and herb to sprout vigorously, covering the whole 
 face of the land in a mantle of smiling green. 
 
 Should the season prove an exceptionally favourable 
 one, the showers are repeated at intervals during the 
 winter and early spring, and the pastoralist sees the 
 wattles bloom with the happy certainty of a good year. 
 Summer suns and scorching hot winds may parch every 
 vestige of grass from the face of the land, but that he 
 accepts as a. matter of course. The stock will live through 
 it all, and prosper and multiply in a manner quite 
 astounding. 
 
 Sometimes these good seasons follow one another in 
 succession, or are broken only by a year when the autumn . 
 rains are light and unsatisfactory, and the summer sees 
 
 60 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 an unwelcome scarcity of water. The history of pastoral 
 Australia points to the fact that just as these good seasons 
 have moved in cycles, so have they been followed by a 
 succession of lean years, terminating in a drought during 
 which the grass has never sprouted, and the edible shrubs 
 have been eaten down to the very root by the starving 
 stock. In times such as these, want of food and want of 
 water have caused terrible mortality among the flocks 
 and herds of the Commonwealth. 
 
 In 1 89 1 there were 124,000,000 sheep in Australia. - 
 Then came a long series of dry years, culminating in the 
 exceptionally bad ones of 190 1 and 1902, by which time 
 the flocks had shrunk to less than half that number. 
 These figures are more eloquent of the terrible animal 
 suffering endured than any written words could be. They 
 mean financial loss, too, and ruined hopes, and the 
 abandonment of homes created by the unflagging toil of 
 a lifetime. Here is a brief story, chosen from among a 
 number told in the Australian newspapers concerning the 
 havoc wrought by drought. 
 
 Ridley Williams had occupied Burbank Station for thirty 
 years. In the 'eighties he thought he was a rich man, 
 for three thousand calves were being branded in each 
 year. Then came the bad seasons, and in 1902 only two 
 calves were branded. Just then the rains came, and the 
 grass sprang as it had not done for years. He looked 
 round and reflected that it might come right after all. 
 But he considered it was only annual grass and light 
 herbage, for the old drought-resisting plants were gone. 
 He counted the cost of restocking, he counted the risk, 
 then plucking up courage, he packed his portmanteau, 
 sent on what few head of stock were left, and abandoned 
 Burbank, ' improvements and all.' 
 
 That is the story as far as it goes. The sequel occurs 
 readily enough to the imagination. Into the run aban- 
 doned by this pioneer another will surely step, perhaps 
 to be favoured by good seasons and to achieve a rapid 
 prosperity. Or perhaps he will but repeat the experience 
 
 61 
 
Australian Life 
 
 of his predecessor : for judgment, industry, and business 
 ability count for nothing against the fickle climate of 
 Australia. 
 
 One day from the life of drought-stricken Australia 
 will serve to describe the terrible struggle with nature 
 that is carried on through so many bitter years. Sunrise 
 comes with a fiery red glow and a scorching wind, so dry 
 and blasting that it seems to come from some white-hot 
 furnace. After a hasty breakfast, washed down by 
 scalding, milkless tea, the pastoralist throws himself into 
 the saddle, and rides away to the big station tanks to 
 superintend the work already going on there. Round 
 the shrunken pool of yellow water stands a row of sheep, 
 unable from sheer weakness to extricate themselves from 
 the mud into which they have rushed in their eagerness 
 to drink. Some are already dead, while men are busily 
 employed in drawing the survivors from the trap into 
 which they have fallen. Their owner looks at the 
 pathetic, bleating animals, mere skeletons covered by 
 wool and hide, with a dull wonder that they have lived 
 so long, and a dead certainty that they cannot live much 
 longer. 
 
 He rides on. On all sides are skeletons and decaying 
 carcases, with gorged crows flapping lazily away before 
 him. Not a blade of grass to be seen anywhere, nothing 
 but the scanty black green foliage of the gums, and in 
 the distance the grey, dusty mulga scrub. He heads for 
 the scrub, crossing the creek-bed, now dry and choked 
 with dust. Men are cutting down the mulga, the only 
 food the station now affords to the starving sheep. It 
 is the last resort, and the animals eat it : not eagerly, 
 even though they are starving, for it is tough and un- 
 inviting. 
 
 His next visit is paid to his stud flock, once the pride 
 of the station, and still cherished with care, for it repre- 
 sents the only hope for the future. From a deep water- 
 hole a man is pumping water into troughs, while another 
 is opening bags of chaff and spreading their contents 
 
 62 
 
'i>,{!^?l^y' 
 
 AN ARTESIAN WELL, 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 about mangers of hessian, stretched across upright sap- 
 lings. This is hand-feedings and an expensive business, 
 for the chaff has to be brought many hundreds of miles 
 by boat and train, and last of all by team or camel train. 
 Each sheep costs him sixpence a day to feed, but as 
 long as he is able to provide or to borrow the money, it 
 must go on. There is nothing else to do. 
 
 The sun climbs higher in the heavens, and the feeble 
 sheep creep listlessly into the shade of the gum trees. 
 Some of the men set about removing the hides and wool 
 of those that have recently died. Everything seems at 
 its last gasp, and the choking wind sweeps across the 
 sun-baked land, smothering everything with dust and 
 grit. The very air is foul with the thousands of decaying 
 carcases lying around. Weary and dispirited the owner 
 of this desolation turns his jaded horse back to the home- 
 stead, to receive what sympathy and comfort his careworn 
 wife is able to give him. 
 
 The sufferings of the domestic animals in drought time 
 are shared by the wild birds and animals of Australia, 
 until these are forced to lay aside their timidity by want 
 of water and food. At such times it is interesting to 
 camp by a waterhole and observe the wild things as they 
 come to drink. With the very first streak of dawn come 
 a mob of kangaroos, betraying their arrival as they hop 
 along by the thud of their great tails. After them come 
 birds : parrots of all kinds, gorgeous in green and blue 
 and scarlet ; screaming cockatoos, all gleaming white, or 
 modest in pink and grey ; magpies, kookaburras, crows, 
 and doves in hundreds, with countless smaller birds. 
 Screaming and chattering, they fly away as a drove of 
 scudding emus reaches the edge of the water, peering 
 suspiciously on this side and on that before lowering 
 their heads to the water. The imported rabbit is every- 
 where, and makes a good fight against the drought, as 
 against every means devised for his destruction. But 
 before the sun is well up, the wild animals have taken 
 their toll of the water-holes, and the procession of sheep, 
 
 63 
 
Australian Life 
 
 cattle, and horses begins to arrive. It is only in very 
 severe years that the wild birds and animals die by reason 
 of the drought, but that occurred in 1902. It was no 
 uncommon thing in that year to find birds dead of starva- 
 tion, for although these could usually procure water, the 
 supply of insect and other food was so scanty that they 
 haunted the camps of men, on the look-out for scraps of 
 food. In 1903 an Act was passed by the Parliament of 
 New South Wales making the destruction of kangaroos, 
 opossums, and other wild animals illegal for some years, 
 the reason being that, owing to the drought, these animals 
 had become so scarce that their total extermination 
 seemed imminent. The last effect of this great drought 
 was the destruction of areas of forest, the deep-rooted 
 Australian trees actually perishing for want of moisture. 
 Never before in the records of the history of the continent 
 had the effects of the drought been so far-reaching. 
 
 Such an experience, quite without precedent during 
 the white man's occupation of Australia, has not been 
 without its educational effect. The Australian pastoralist 
 has learned, from bitter experience, a great deal about 
 fighting the drought that was not previously known. 
 Experiments made with native shrubs and trees have 
 proved that many of these are of considerable value as 
 fodder plants when all else fails. Among the plants so 
 used were the despised prickly pear, the fleshy leaves 
 being boiled and used as fodder, and serving to keep 
 much valuable stock from absolute starvation. In the 
 same way the hungry stock learned to devour the bulbous 
 trunks of the Australian bottle-tree and the leaves and 
 twigs of a forest tree known as the kurragong. 
 
 These, however, were the expedients resorted to in 
 desperation. The more valuable lessons gained from 
 the drought were the necessity for caring for and pro- 
 pagating the priceless drought-resisting shrubs, such as 
 the saltbush, which are natural to the saline lowlands of 
 the interior. Transplanted to California, the value of 
 the saltbush was at once recognised there, and measures 
 
 64 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 for its scientific propagation were taken with the most 
 successful results. From this example, and from the 
 lessons of the lean years, the Australian pastoralist has 
 so far profited that considerable attention is being 
 devoted to the spread of this plant and others of a 
 kindred nature. 
 
 Provision for the storage of the water that falls during 
 the rainy season has always been of a primitive nature, 
 for the great evaporation which takes place under the 
 summer sun discouraged any elaborate precautions of this 
 kind. Nevertheless, the importance of conserving, as far 
 as possible, the plentiful supplies that invariably run to 
 waste in the rainy season is now more fully recognised 
 than it has ever been. Plans for locking the more 
 important of the rivers and creeks have been from time 
 to time proposed, and practical steps are now being 
 taken to carry into effect the more feasible of these 
 schemes. The conservation of large supplies of water 
 during good seasons would appear to be the most obvious 
 precaution against the dry years that must inevitably 
 follow, as experience has shown ; but in the past a good 
 season has been a sort of fool's paradise, during which the 
 pastoralists have idly watched the valuable water running 
 away to waste. 
 
 The improvidence of Australians in this respect is 
 made strongly apparent by such a curious spectacle as 
 was witnessed in a little town in the western district of 
 New South Wales, when the great drought broke up in 
 1903. For many months the inhabitants had been 
 supplied with water carted from a distance, although a 
 dry stream-bed choked with dust and a wooden bridge 
 spanning it bore witness that under normal conditions 
 the settlement could boast of a river. The breaking of 
 the drought was heralded by news of heavy rains nearer 
 the coast, and by the rumour that a head of water was 
 actually rushing down the upper reaches of the river. 
 This rumour was confirmed by an excited horseman, 
 who rode into the town one breathless evening, yelling 
 
 65 F 
 
Australian Life 
 
 that *she was coming down/ Everybody turned out to 
 witness the sight, lining the banks of the dry stream-bed 
 and gazing up the empty channel with anxious eyes. 
 The coming of the water could be heard before it was 
 actually in sight, a hoarse whispering as the advancing 
 flood licked around the sun-baked stones, and stirred 
 among the dead twigs and grasses. Then an inky pool 
 appeared in the stream-bed, now stationary and now 
 moving quickly forward. It broadened as it trickled 
 through the little town. Behind it came a rush of yellow 
 waters, laden with debris of all kinds, filling up the 
 hollows and washing away the year's accumulation of 
 dust or grit Two hours later the dry creek-bed was a 
 roaring torrent, and the excited man borrowed a fresh 
 horse to convey the glad news to townships further down 
 the creek. 
 
 Most of that water ran uselessly away from the places 
 where it was wanted, just as it had for ages past in 
 parched, unthrifty Australia. It would be strange indeed 
 if the waste of it did not appeal to the drought-stricken 
 bushmen, and if the necessity for storage works were not 
 recognised as a matter of national importance. Un- 
 fortunately the capital required for the construction of 
 the necessary storage areas is not at present forthcoming, 
 and the work of irrigating Australia is progressing but 
 slowly. Itis obvious, Jnowever, that the conservation of 
 water, even if carried out on the most extensive scale, 
 will not cause the grass to grow in years when there is 
 no rainfall. The loss of stock is caused by want of food, 
 and no scheme of water conservation would be adequate 
 for the irrigation of the vast grazing areas of Australia. 
 Water conservation can only be part of a system which 
 will include the growth of large crops of green fodder by 
 means of irrigation, and the preservation of this fodder 
 in silo pits. The many experiments made in this direc- 
 tion have generally proved successful, the favourite fodder 
 plants being maize, lucerne, and varieties of sorghum. 
 Like most arid countries, Australia possesses a soil 
 
 (id 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 capable of producing remarkable crops when irrigated, 
 and the growth of luxuriant fodder plants is only a 
 question of the proper application of water. It may 
 confidently be predicted that the next development of 
 pastoral enterprise will be the storage of water, and of 
 large supplies of fodder in both a green and dry state. 
 
 The most satisfactory advance in the direction of 
 providing water has been made by the utilisation of the 
 stores of artesian water which have been proved to exist 
 under an immense area of Central Australia. This 
 underground water supply is tapped by means of boring, 
 and in some instances the soil has been penetrated to a 
 depth as great as five thousand feet, in order to reach 
 the subterranean water. Very frequently the water, 
 when tapped, spouts strongly out, although in some 
 places it only rises to a certain height in the bore, and 
 must be raised to the surface by means of pumps. The 
 boring operations are conducted both by private in- 
 dividuals and by the Governments of the Australian States, 
 some of which maintain a staff of specially trained 
 officials for this work. 
 
 The importance of this subterranean water supply can 
 best be illustrated by the example of one bore, sunk in a 
 dry and waterless tract of country, which has now for 
 years yielded a flow of water averaging six million 
 gallons each day. At Dagworth in Queensland there is 
 an artesian well from which water flows at a temperature 
 of 196'' Fahrenheit, and many of the Queensland artesian 
 wells discharge water of a temperature exceeding 100"^ 
 Fahrenheit. This artesian water has been proved as 
 valuable for irrigation purposes as any surface supply, 
 and when it has sufficiently cooled, the stock drink it 
 just as readily. Boring for water is still being prosecuted 
 with energy in all the States except Tasmania and 
 Victoria, and from the results already obtained the 
 pastoral districts have reaped incalculable benefit. 
 
 Perhaps the most bitter reflection of the drought- 
 stricken station owner arose from the knowledge that, 
 
 67 
 
Australian Life 
 
 while his stock was starving, there were large areas further 
 east where a plentiful supply of grass was actually wast- 
 ing. No means existed for transporting his stock to this 
 supply of food, for it could not travel through the 
 barren country that lay between. In the opinion of the 
 President of the Queensland Pastoralists' Union, the most 
 practical suggestion for fighting drought in the future is 
 one for the construction of light railway lines into the 
 western and northern pastoral districts, thus enabling 
 stock to be removed from the drought-stricken areas. 
 
 The recovery of the Australian back country from a 
 long succession of dry seasons, such as those which 
 culminated in the disastrous year of 1902, is necessarily 
 slow. The rains that break the drought cause the grass 
 to spring up bravely, it is true, but it is a delicate 
 growth and does not withstand the hot sun for long. 
 The fodder plants, eaten down to the very roots in the 
 lean years, have not had time to recover themselves, and 
 would probably never do so were it not for the diminution 
 of the stock upon the land. The havoc of the drought 
 is not so easily repaired. A Bulletin writer, in a few 
 vivid words, describes the bush in its first stage of 
 recovery : — 
 
 * A new world, seemingly — a world of green, good to 
 look upon^ though it was of forced unstable growth with 
 no vitality. The poor bush tries to hide its nakedness 
 in this short-lived life, but the skeleton — bare, gaunt, 
 blackened with fire, tortured by thirst — cannot be so 
 quickly hidden. It is hideously apparent, and pitiful to 
 see. Down in the gullies, on the plains, which a few 
 months ago danced with white molten heat, now tinted 
 soft with the crude tints of verdure, lie the white gleaming 
 bones, sorrowful amongst the newly sprung grass. The 
 depleted flocks drift and browse around them — menacing 
 landmarks of the summer to come. ... It will be a bare 
 bleak world for this year's lambs. The poor weakly 
 mothers will be little protection against the cold of early 
 spring and the devilment of the crows, who, preening 
 
 68 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 themselves high in the oaks, or flapping lazily over the 
 paddocks, are bitter forecasts of the heat-time to come.' 
 
 The unstable nature of the foundation upon which the 
 pastoral industry has been reared is shown by the fact 
 that of the last twenty-five years of the nineteenth century 
 only nine brought good seasons. In some of the worst 
 years the agricultural districts also suffered, and so 
 severely was the drought of 1901 and 1902 felt in the 
 wheat-growing Mallee district of Victoria, that many 
 farmers actually left their holdings, some of them turning 
 their backs on Australia in despair. In the Australian 
 cities, which are largely dependent upon the prosperity 
 of the back country, the pinch of drought causes an 
 unwelcome tightness of money, as well as an increase in 
 the price of commodities ; while the large floating popula- 
 tion of bushmen experience scarcity of work consequent 
 upon the diminution of the flocks. It is no matter for 
 surprise, then, that the Australian inventor sets himself 
 seriously to the task of rain-making ; or that an Australian 
 public man declared that *a week's steady rain was 
 worth more to Australia than all the gold mines of the 
 West.' 
 
 69 
 
Australian Life 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 URBAN AUSTRALIA 
 
 The size and importance of the Australian cities, when 
 viewed in the light of the total population of the conti- 
 nent, are a source of surprise to every visitor. The 
 population of Sydney and Melbourne may be set down, 
 in round numbers, at half a million each, thus accounting 
 for one million of the two and a half million inhabitants 
 of the two most populous States. A better idea of the 
 wealth and trade of these cities may be gained by com- 
 paring them with other cities of the Empire. In the 
 value of ratable property Sydney is second only to 
 London among Empire cities, while as a seaport Sydney 
 takes fourth place among the ports of the Empire for the 
 actual value of trade. Melbourne is in everything the 
 rival of Sydney, and ranks little below that city in wealth 
 and volume of trade. 
 
 In the other Australian States the same characteristic 
 is noticeable. Each can boast of a capital city where a 
 large proportion of the State inhabitants dwell, and this 
 proportion shows a tendency to increase rather than 
 diminish. The causes which have contributed to the 
 growth of these cities, so huge when compared to the 
 population of the country behind them, lie in a variety of 
 circumstances, the most important being the great trading 
 activity of the Australian people. Each capital is the 
 sole trade outlet of a vast and productive State, and also 
 the channel through which the imports for the use of a 
 
 70 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 prosperous and free-spending people must flow. Every 
 railway constructed leads directly to the capital, and the 
 capitals monopolise the trade which flows from one 
 Australian State to another. They provide facilities that 
 exist nowhere else in the State, and have therefore 
 attracted to themselves the bulk of the manufactures 
 fostered by the protective tariffs adopted by most of the 
 Australian States. Like a snowball, they have grown by 
 growing. 
 
 The business and the home-life of the people who live 
 in these cities can better be described when some of the 
 leading characteristics which distinguish them have been 
 outlined. They were all designed to be big cities, with 
 broad, straight streets and spacious public parks. All the 
 inconveniences of older cities have been avoided ; room 
 for expansion on all sides has been provided ; everything 
 has been planned on the grand scale. Melbourne is a 
 typical Australian city. The city proper is a mile square, 
 every corner is an exact right angle, and every street is 
 exactly one mile in length. From the great central 
 railway- station any part of the city can be reached in a 
 few minutes by walking, and to that station every suburb 
 sends frequent trains. The double line of tramways run- 
 ning along the centre of each street leaves a way for the 
 traffic on either side as wide as streets were made in 
 older cities. In his square mile of city the Melbourne 
 man finds everything — Houses of Parliament, Town Hall, 
 post-office, museum, theatres, banks, churches, newspaper 
 offices. Stock Exchange, restaurants, libraries, and shops. 
 Beyond the city area the suburbs stretch for eight miles 
 in every direction, but the business of the city, and 
 practically of the whole State, is transacted in that square 
 mile of city. The public buildings are on an ambitious 
 scale. Most of them were planned at a time when 
 Melbourne possessed a sanguine statistician, who pub- 
 lished a calculation showing that the population of 
 Australia would be 33,000,000 in 1951, and 189,000,000 
 in 2001. He based his figures on the rate at which the 
 
 71 
 
Australian Life 
 
 population was then increasing, but unfortunately that 
 rate has not been maintained. Nevertheless, the public 
 buildings are there in anticipation of the time when the 
 population of Melbourne shall be as great as that of 
 London at the present day. The front of the Parliament 
 House is already complete, and when the dome has been 
 added, the building will be a noble one. The Governor's 
 residence is a gigantic palace, and of the public offices 
 some one has unkindly written that they look as if they 
 had been built by the mile. During a land boom, the 
 price of the city land was put up to such an extravagant 
 figure that several speculators availed themselves of the 
 presence of an American architect to erect * sky-scrapers ' 
 of twelve and fourteen stories. The liberal scale upon 
 which banks, insurance offices, and other buildings have 
 been erected prevents the tall buildings from looking 
 hopelessly out of place; indeed, the city escapes the 
 criticism of being overbuilt, because everything is in pro- 
 portion. The surprising activity of the people in this 
 compact city area is part of the city itself. Wide as the 
 streets are, they hardly suffice for the traffic of the vehicles 
 that crowd them. The footpaths are also liberal of 
 dimension, but they are always thronged in business 
 hours. Every lamp-post bears a notice requesting that 
 * pedestrians keep to the right,' and owing to the general 
 compliance with this request, there is no confusion be- 
 tween the two streams of foot-passengers that pour so 
 rapidly through the city. The first and most lasting 
 impression of Melbourne is a roar of traffic, a continual 
 clanging of tram-bells, and an eager crowd, always 
 hurrying. 
 
 It would be easy to write at length of the distinctive 
 features of each Australian city, but it is my object rather 
 to point out that they all possess the general character- 
 istics I have indicated. They have a compact business 
 area, the most modern and convenient means of travel- 
 ling, and every facility for the rapid transaction of 
 business. The influx of business men from the suburbs 
 
 72 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 begins shortly before nine o'clock. From the big rail- 
 way-station issues an endless stream of human beings, as 
 train after train arrives from the suburbs. Every tram is 
 crowded, and the ferry boats ply busily across the water. 
 The footpaths show that the stream is setting in one 
 direction only, towards the heart of the city. The stream 
 continues to flow until half-past nine, and then stops. 
 Principals and employees are all in their places by that 
 hour, and business is in full swing. Many of the 
 Australian business customs are practical and convenient 
 Some warehouses close their doors for three-quarters of 
 an hour in the middle of the day, when it is an under- 
 stood thing that members of the staff take their luncheon. 
 During the rest of the day every employee must be in 
 his place for the transaction of his business. The long 
 luncheon hour and the subsequent dragging on of busi- 
 ness are not possible ; there is not enough time. The 
 banks shut their doors at three o'clock, and most offices 
 at five. At six o'clock the shops put up their shutters, 
 and every one is at home, or on the way home. 
 
 It is a short day, but it is a busy one. When they say 
 in Australia that a man can * run like a Melbourne ship- 
 ping clerk,' they intend to pay tribute to his speed. The 
 Sydney man moves in a more dignified manner, and the 
 people of Brisbane are so leisurely, by contrast, that the 
 Southern States have christened Queensland * the land of 
 lots o' time.' The Brisbane man is usually sitting still 
 or riding on a train. He wastes no effort, but the net 
 results of his day's work is usually a satisfactory one. 
 The principle underlying business in Australia is decision. 
 The man who says * I'll think it over and write you ' 
 is a comparative rarity. The average Australian business 
 man, if he thinks he sees a chance, is willing to take a 
 risk, for he knows very well that the offer is not likely to 
 be repeated. He has another characteristic. He can 
 lock up his office at five o'clock and leave his business 
 behind him in the office. When he leaves the city for 
 his residential suburb, the thread of business is broken, 
 
 73 
 
Australian Life 
 
 and will not be taken up again until he steps out of the 
 train next morning. In the meantime he lounges, both 
 mentally and physically. 
 
 There is nothing arbitrary in the selection of residential 
 districts near the big Australian cities ; the best situations 
 are occupied by the best class of suburbs. The squatter 
 whom we have seen in his Riverina station also occupies 
 a mansion at Pott's Point, near Sydney; at Toorak, a 
 Melbourne suburb ; or in some corresponding outskirt of 
 one of the Australian capitals. The most striking features 
 of the big grey house are its wide colonnaded balcony and 
 the extent of the grounds that surround it. There is 
 nothing distinctive about the interior ; ballroom, billiard- 
 room, library, reception-rooms, all are arranged after the 
 conventional fashion. The grounds are remarkable for 
 their thick lawns of stiff buffalo grass, springy underfoot, 
 but harsh and coarse to the touch. The luxuriance of 
 foliage and flower is surprising. The long carriage-drive 
 is bordered by great clumps of arum lilies and purple 
 iris, with groves of glossy camellias and ornamental 
 shrubs and trees drawn from every part of the world. 
 Glass-houses, conservatory, and stables are arranged on 
 a scale of luxury and convenience. From the balcony 
 is obtained a magnificent view of the harbour and of the 
 compact city area, bristling with spires and domes and 
 many-storied buildings. It is a pleasant country house, 
 in the heart of a big city. 
 
 The squatter's presence in town is due to the session 
 of the State Legislature, for he is a member of the Upper 
 House, or Legislative Council. The chief function of this 
 Council is to check the SociaHstic tendency of the Lower 
 House, the members of which are elected on a basis of 
 manhood suffrage. A class vote or a nomination secured 
 him his seat in the Upper House, where he sits with men 
 the majority of whom, like himself, are wealthy and have 
 pastoral interests. His legislative duties are not exacting, 
 and he has time to transact business with his city agents, . 
 to renew at the club his associations with his intimates, 
 
 74 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 to see his horse run in the Cup, and to pick up at the 
 stud sales a ram of some celebrated strain which costs 
 him a thousand guineas. 
 
 Suppose we accompany him to the city, where he has 
 a busy day before him. He catches the train not a 
 hundred yards from his house, and it is interesting to 
 notice that as it approaches the city the car passes through 
 several zones of suburbs, each of a different class. Next 
 to his own suburb is one of detached villas, each with 
 its own garden ; then comes a region of wooden cottages, 
 all neat and comfortable; and finally, stucco terraces, 
 rather dingy and crowded, and many of them with cards 
 in the window, proclaiming that * board and residence ' 
 may be obtained within. Suddenly a corner is turned 
 and the city area is reached. Alighting at a corner where 
 two policemen are regulating the throng of traffic in a 
 manner that recalls their London doubles, he walks 
 rapidly down two blocks and turns into his club. Half 
 a dozen letters have to be answered, including one from 
 his station manager ; then he must see his solicitor, and 
 afterwards the principal of a wool-broking firm. It is 
 now lunch-time, and he invariably lunches, when he is in 
 town, at the same hotel. The room is a public one, and 
 we will take our seats at one of the tables, for there are 
 some interesting people here. 
 
 The grey-bearded man with whom our squatter has 
 just shaken hands is editor and proprietor of a big daily 
 paper. He plays no open part in politics, but is credited 
 with having made and unmade each of the many Govern- 
 ments that have ruled the State during the last twenty 
 years. Next to him sits a member of the Federal Parlia- 
 ment, who is still a young man. He is a partner in a 
 big city firm, has interests in every State of Australia, was 
 knighted not many years ago, and fought bitterly and suc- 
 cessfully for the employers in the greatest strike Australia 
 has ever known. Our friend next greets a brother squatter 
 who is a Federal Senator and a prominent Orangeman, 
 He has a political grievance against the Australian Premier, 
 75 
 
Australian Life 
 
 because of a friendly visit paid by that gentleman to the 
 Pope on his way back to Australia from a visit to London. 
 Nevertheless, he is chatting amicably to an Irish barrister, 
 whom the same Pope has made a knight of St. Gregory, 
 on account of services rendered to the Church in Australia. 
 A University Professor and the part owner of one of the 
 richest mines in Australia complete this party of city 
 magnates, the members of which represent almost every 
 shade of Australian opinion. It is obvious enough that 
 they do not carry pubHc differences into private life. 
 The lunch is soon over, for they are all busy men, and 
 our squatter niakes his way by tram to the building where 
 the State Parliament meets. Under ordinary circum- 
 stances the House will adjourn early enough to permit 
 him to attend to his social obligations afterwards. 
 
 The solicitor whom our squatter consulted may well 
 be taken as a type of the professional class. He is a 
 young and rising man, has married a relative of his 
 wealthy cHent, and because he has a taste for yachting 
 — an inexpensive hobby, it may be said — has chosen to 
 live in one of the outlying suburbs by the seashore. His 
 villa faces the bay ; it is his own, but a similar one could 
 be rented for ;^8o or ;^9o a year, inclusive of all rates 
 and taxes. To that sum must be added the cost of the 
 season ticket for railway or boat, but for an outlay of 
 ;^ioo a year a charming home can be obtained. The 
 house is of the bungalow type, cool, roomy, and con- 
 venient, and the garden is a miracle of brightness. The 
 attraction of the suburb is the beach. A little jetty makes 
 a breakwater for the fleet of tiny centre-board yachts 
 anchored in its lee, and near it is a bathing-place, enclosed 
 by a wooden palisade to keep the sharks at bay. The 
 residents can be in the city half an hour after the train 
 leaves their railway-station, and once home again, they 
 are in a different atmosphere, getting the first breath 
 of the cool evening breeze at the close of the burning 
 summer days. 
 
 Our solicitor's professional work does not take him 
 
 76 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 into the Courts, and has nothing to distinguish it from 
 the practice of a similar business elsewhere. At half- 
 past nine he is at his office, and at one he lunches with 
 a few friends at an establishment that is deserving of 
 some description. The proprietors are two young ladies, 
 well-known in society, and although they spend their days 
 in a tea-room, they retain their circle of friends, among 
 whom are many of their customers. Their adoption of 
 this business was made necessary by the financial crisis 
 which occurred in Australia in 1893, when many families 
 were reduced from wealth to the poorest circumstances 
 in the course of one disastrous week. The young ladies 
 who attend upon the customers are educated and refined, 
 and daintiness is a feature of the furniture and the fare. 
 Prices are strictly reasonable, and everything supplied is 
 the very best of its kind. Our solicitor may not impro- 
 bably meet the young lady who brought him his cup of 
 coffee at the house of some friend, and such a meeting 
 would certainly occasion no awkwardness on either 
 side. 
 
 About half-past four he will catch a train home, in 
 time for a sail in his little yacht before dinner. One or 
 two evenings each week will probably be spent at the one 
 club of the suburb, where there are tennis-lawns and 
 bowling-greens, with a skittle-alley and the usual billiard 
 and card-rooms. The members of the club all appear 
 in easy flannels, and may be stockbrokers, civil servants 
 of the higher grades, and young professional men like 
 himself. The local politics of the place he leaves to 
 the local tradespeople, and complains a good deal of 
 the result of his own neglect. At the same time, 'muni- 
 cipal affairs will never assume any great importance in 
 Australian cities, owing to the fact that many municipal 
 functions are already undertaken by the State Govern- 
 ments. 
 
 When he takes a holiday he may choose among a 
 number of desirable resorts. Perhaps the ideal holiday 
 for an Australian is a visit to New Zealand, with a sea 
 
 77 
 
Australian Life 
 
 voyage of twelve hundred miles, and a change to a country 
 unlike his own in every particular. Or he may journey 
 inland and spend his vacation in the bush, which offers a 
 round of riding, driving, and shooting. Dotted around 
 the Australian coast are watering-places which combine 
 the attractions of the seaside with those of the country, 
 so that the holiday-maker may picnic in the fastnesses of 
 the fern-tree gullies on one day, and spend the next in 
 fishing on the schnapper-grounds of the open ocean. 
 
 It will be apparent from even this slight outline that 
 the life of the moneyed and professional classes in an 
 Australian capital city differs but slightly from that of the 
 same classes in Great Britain. They have adopted a 
 shorter and more strenuous business day, and have utilised 
 the experience of the Old World in obviating many of the 
 inconveniences unavoidable in the life of cities which 
 have grown by gradual stages through a course of 
 centuries. Convenience of travelling facilities has per- 
 mitted the growth of the suburbs outwards, and so given 
 an air of spaciousness to even the most commonplace 
 of the residential quarters. The provisions made for 
 parks and open spaces are liberal, and the Australian 
 citizen takes an interest and a pride in the many public 
 gardens and playing-grounds with which his city has been 
 furnished. For these reasons and because of their pro- 
 pinquity to the sea-coast, all these big Australian cities 
 are healthy, and can boast a low death rate. That they 
 continue to increase in proportion to the population of 
 the country behind them is not due to these causes so 
 much as to the fact that they offer to the working class 
 such advantages as no other cities in the world can offer. 
 The attraction that city life has for the humbler classes 
 is evident even in the Old World, where the contrast 
 between the conditions of town and country life is not 
 so marked as in AustraHa. Here the reasons for flocking 
 to the cities are obvious enough. To quote the Bulletin^ 
 the most powerful organ representing the opinion of the 
 Australian working-man : * A trade, and regular work at 
 
 78 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 that, made at union wages, is worth more than the average 
 six hundred and forty acres of land available for selection 
 in any Australian State. It is hard reasoning on a cash 
 basis, not silly hankering after city life, that brings the 
 young bushman to town.' 
 
 79 
 
Australian Life 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 LIFE IN THE CITIES 
 
 Australia has so often been described as the paradise 
 of the working man that the phrase seems to have lost 
 part of its meaning from constant repetition. The 
 factors conducing to the satisfactory condition in which the 
 AustraUan artisan finds himself are primarily those he has 
 established for himself, namely short hours of labour and 
 high wages. But these conditions apply elsewhere, and 
 notably in the large American cities, where the working 
 man is, nevertheless, far from being as well off as in 
 Australia. In the first place, the housing difficulty does 
 not exist for the AustraHan workman. There is not one 
 tenement building in all Australia, for every family can 
 obtain a comfortable cottage at a moderate rental. A 
 well-built house with five rooms and a bathroom, within 
 comfortable walking distance of his work, can be got for 
 about ten shillings a week, a sum which does not bear 
 so high a proportion to his weekly earnings as the seven 
 and sixpence which the British workman has to pay for 
 two or three rooms in a gloomy tenement. A garden in 
 front of the cottage and a plot of ground of respectable 
 dimensions behind it belong as a matter of course to 
 the Australian workman's dwelling. It has been said 
 that the workman is able, if he wishes, to live within 
 comfortable walking distance of his work. The tendency 
 of the Australian middle class is still to occupy the more 
 distant suburbs, so that the suburbs of an Australian city 
 
 80 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 nearest to the actual city area will usually be found in 
 the occupation of the humbler classes. 
 
 But should the workman choose to rent a cottage a 
 few miles out of the city, he is admirably served by tram 
 and train, or by a cheap and rapid ferry-boat service. 
 The convenience and cheapness of the State-owned 
 suburban railway lines can only be appreciated by those 
 who have acquired a wide experience of profit-earning 
 railways in other lands. The Australian suburban lines, 
 as the property of the people, are administered in the 
 interests of the traveller rather than with the object of 
 earning the highest possible profit. The trains are run 
 frequently and punctually, and a special scale of fares 
 within certain hours enables the workman to travel at an 
 expense that is almost nominal. Thus the ten shillings 
 a week he pays for a cottage near town will pay the rent 
 of an even more comfortable dwelling six or seven miles 
 away, as well as the additional cost of his railway fares. 
 There he will have a plot of land, perhaps half an acre 
 in extent, where he can gratify his tastes for gardening 
 and poultry keeping to the fullest extent. 
 
 The cheapness of food is another circumstance in 
 favour of the Australian workman. He can dine, if he 
 wishes it, at a cleanly kept restaurant, where a substantial 
 meal of meat and vegetables, with pudding to follow, 
 can be had for sixpence. A better served meal, with a 
 small bottle of Australian wine added, can easily be got 
 for a shilling, and this includes all those extras of bread 
 and attendance for which a special charge is made in so 
 many places. These prices argue cheap meat, cheap 
 vegetables, and cheap fruit, so that the frugal housewife 
 can make a little money go a long way when marketing. 
 Fruit, in season especially, is cheap. Fresh grapes, 
 peaches, apricots, pears, and plums can all be bought at 
 prices ranging from twopence to threepence a pound, 
 and all of the very finest quality. I have often seen 
 twenty pounds of ripe tomatoes offered at the door for 
 a shilling, and a ripe water-melon a foot in diameter, 
 
 8i G 
 
Australian Life 
 
 with flesh pink and crisp and luscious, for threepence. 
 Sixpence buys three good pineapples from the hawker's 
 barrow, and the wine-flavoured passion-fruit may be had 
 at threepence a dozen. If the Australian workman does 
 not live well, it is because he does not care to, or his 
 wife does not know how to buy. 
 
 For clothing of all kinds he has to pay high prices, 
 and he does not forget while doing so that he is con- 
 tributing to the maintenance of the protected industries 
 of the country. To do him justice, he does not com- 
 plain of this, for there is no more staunch adherent than 
 he to the protective principles which, rightly or wrongly, 
 he connects with the high scale of wages he is able to 
 earn. The necessary luxuries of the working man, tea 
 and tobacco, are both cheap and of good quality in 
 Australia. When the Australian tariff was framed, the 
 Labour representatives in the Commonwealth Parliament, 
 by a clever combination with the Free Trade party, 
 obtained the exemption of tea from any duty whatever, 
 contending that it is one of the Australian working-man's 
 necessities. A comparison between the prices paid by 
 the British and Australian workman for tobacco is not 
 easily eflected, since the Australian usually smokes the 
 best American tobacco, which he buys in the form of a 
 hard plug containing little moisture. I recently obtained 
 in London, after a good deal of trouble, a plug of this 
 tobacco, for which I paid two and sixpence. In 
 Australia the same article would have cost, at most, but 
 one and sixpence. There is another luxury that costs 
 less to the Australian than to the British workman, and 
 it is to his own credit that it is so. The Australian 
 contrives to spend a smaller sum upon intoxicating 
 drink, although the public-house prices of beer and spirits 
 are higher in Australia. 
 
 These are some of the material advantages which the 
 workman enjoys in Australia, and they have their natural 
 complement in social advantages, upon which the better- 
 class workman sets even a higher value. It is literally 
 
 82 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 true in Australia at the present time that there is no 
 position of importance in the State to which an ambitious 
 and able man may not climb. The careers of the men 
 who were Premiers of the Australian States at the times 
 these words were written illustrates this fact with special 
 force. The Premier of one State formerly worked in a 
 flour mill within a hundred yards of the Parliament 
 House where meets the Assembly he now leads. Another 
 Premier can boast that he once carried his swag in 
 search of employment through the country districts of 
 his State, and yet another was at one time an insurance 
 agent. Instances of this kind could be multiplied to 
 any extent, for they illustrate the rule rather than the 
 exception. The Australian workman fully appreciates 
 these possibilities and the absence of class distinctions 
 they imply, and shows his appreciation by an indepen- 
 dence of conduct which is very noticeable. It cannot 
 justly be said that this independence is allied to any 
 discourtesy of bearing, but he knows his own value, and 
 is also fully alive to the importance of the political 
 power he wields. 
 
 The ambition of the Australian workman is usually 
 apparent in the career he marks out for his children. To 
 them the learned professions are open, and he is not slow 
 to take advantage of the fact that the State-subsidised Uni- 
 versity is at his very door. I remember a typical instance 
 of a hard-working tradesman with a large family, whose 
 second son had shown remarkable ability when attending 
 the free State school. With praiseworthy self-denial, 
 this man paid the fees for the boy's attendance at a 
 secondary school until he matriculated, and then, with 
 the assistance of his eldest son, also an artisan, entered 
 him at the University. The boy lived at home humbly 
 enough, but his parents were careful that there should be 
 nothing in his dress or in his circumstances that would 
 mark him among his fellow students. His university 
 career was successful, for he took a surgeon's degree, 
 and he is now a country doctor with a good practice. 
 
 83 
 
Australian Life 
 
 He has, moreover, been able to help his younger 
 brothers and sisters to follow in his steps. Let it be 
 said again that this is no exceptional case, but merely 
 an instance of the possibilities of advancement open to 
 the working class in Australia. 
 
 The pleasures of the workman are largely governed 
 by the climatic conditions of Australia, which means 
 that he spends a great deal of his leisure in the open air. 
 There is no lack of space in the big cities if he has a 
 mind to indulge in cricket or football ; or he can take 
 his place as a spectator and watch these games played 
 by their finest exponents. Cycle racing has never lost 
 its hold on the Australian public, and there are many 
 other pleasant w^ays of spending the Saturday half-holiday. 
 The number of whole holidays observed in Australia is 
 not small, and the Australian knows how to enjoy 
 himself on these occasions. Sydney Harbour on Boxing 
 Day or Anniversary Day (January 26) presents one of 
 the finest sights imaginable, with its fleets of gay 
 excursion steamers all crowded with happy, well-dressed 
 people. Cheap excursion trains carry picnic parties 
 away to shady gullies, where the creeks bubble pleasantly 
 under the tall tree-ferns, and the air is pure and exhilarat- 
 ing. It is not far from any big city to the seaside, where 
 there are broad stretches of clean sand, and fires may 
 be lit and billies boiled in the shady tea-tree scrub. 
 These are the holiday resorts, not of the few, but of the 
 many, and it has to be said that the Australian method 
 of keeping a holiday goes far to justify the frequency of 
 such occasions. One of the least agreeable features of 
 the Australian holiday is the prominence of the larrikin 
 " push." The larrikin has his equivalent in most big 
 cities, and may not differ much in type from the English 
 Hoohgan, the American Tough, or the French Apache, 
 but there can be no doubt that he is more in evidence 
 than any of his prototypes in the old world. The larrikin 
 pushes, or gangs, are recruited from youths of the work- 
 ing class whose tastes incline in the direction of brutality 
 
 84 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 and conspiracy. The old bait of mystery, always so 
 attractive to a certain type of degenerate, allures many 
 of them to the ranks of the pushes, some of which claim 
 to possess the organisation of a crude sort of secret 
 society. One ingenious Australian writer * declares that 
 the code of rules binding one well-known Sydney push 
 prohibits drunkenness and unchastity, and that the 
 common bond among members is one of murder. Each 
 initiate, before being admitted to full membership of the 
 society, must take part in the doing to death of some 
 person who has rendered himself obnoxious to the push, 
 and must afterwards sign a confession admitting the full 
 guilt of the crime, the possession of which document 
 ensures his fidelity to the gang. These startling state- 
 ments were put forward with apparent seriousness in 
 Blackwood's Magazine of July, 1901, but no convincing 
 evidence in support of them was adduced. 
 
 It is very certain, however, that the secrets of the 
 pushes, if they have any, are well kept. Their meetings 
 are quite apparent to any observant person who cares to 
 look for them, and it can be proved from the Australian 
 newspapers that they sometimes deal very roughly with 
 the policeman who concerns himself too actively in their 
 ordinary pursuits. Occasionally a battle between two 
 rival pushes takes places, when sticks and stones fly 
 about freely, and sometimes an injured larrikin finds his 
 way to the hospital. He usually professes himself unable 
 to identify his assailants, and in the absence of positive 
 evidence it is difficult to bring the offenders to justice. 
 I have personally known cases where the push has pro- 
 vided funds for the legal defence of a member accused 
 of some crime ; and I have known of members of the 
 same push who have been utterly deserted in their hour 
 of need. 
 
 The amusements of the push — and it exists primarily 
 
 for the sake of amusement — are dances, picnics, and, on 
 
 special occasions, organised rowdyism. The young 
 
 * Mr. Ambrose Pratt, 
 
 8.S 
 
Australian Life 
 
 women who figure at the dances and picnics have the 
 same taste for feathers and high-heeled shoes that dis^ 
 tinguishes the coster girl, and the same facility of repartee, 
 disconcerting in its allusive directness. The male larrikin 
 at one time favoured a distinctive dress, consisting of a 
 short coat with a velvet collar, an open vest, and narrow 
 neck-tie, bell-bottomed trousers, and a soft felt hat with 
 a broad stiff rim. Of late years this costume has gone 
 out of vogue, and has been replaced by nothing likely to 
 distinguish the push member from his fellow man. 
 
 Push dances are remarkable for their solemnity and 
 observance of push etiquette, and for a weird dance 
 known as the teetotum, which resembles dimly the ghost 
 of a waltz fettered in heavy chains. Push picnics are 
 enlivened by the music of the mouth organ and the 
 accordion, and by a free use of stimulants. They also 
 not infrequently end in a free fight. 
 
 It is difficult to make any excuse for the existence of 
 the larrikin and his push, for the opportunities for 
 rational amusement in the Australian cities are in no 
 way restricted. The efforts of the police to break up the 
 bands are checked, in some cases, by the unwise leniency 
 of honorary magistrates, and by the extreme difficulty of 
 proving any punishable offence against the ringleaders. 
 The larrikin, leaning against the dead wall and spitting 
 idly into the gutter, is an eyesore in the Australian cities, 
 and an intolerable nuisance as well. When his worst 
 passions are roused he is a positive source of danger, 
 and the perpetrator of many cowardly crimes, the conse- 
 quences of which he too often contrives to escape. His 
 existence may well be a source of uneasiness to those 
 concerned in the future of the new nation. 
 
 The worst slums of the Australian cities are un- 
 doubtedly those quarters given up to the occupation of 
 the coloured aliens, and especially of Chinese and 
 Hindoos. The greater part of the laundry work has lately 
 passed into Chinese hands, and the Chinese cabinet- 
 maker has also entered into very serious competition 
 
 86 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 with the Australian tradesman. These men gravitate 
 to the most undesirable quarter of the town, and, by 
 herding together in defiance of all laws of sanitation, 
 render it still more undesirable. Opium dens and 
 gambling houses are open night and day, and form an 
 attraction for the most degraded of the white popu- 
 lation of both sexes. Chinatown has an aspect and an 
 odour all its own; an air of shabbiness and dinginess 
 pervades the buildings, and from the open doors come 
 indescribable whiffs of burning joss-sticks blended with 
 decaying vegetable matter. 
 
 Chinatown usually contains at least one Chinese 
 restaurant, patronised both by Orientals and white folks. 
 In the inner room a party of young Bohemians, in fault- 
 less evening dress, may be seen enjoying the novelty of 
 a dinner in Chinatown, and straining the resources of the 
 establishment by demands for mysterious dishes and 
 piquant sauces. In the large outer department grave 
 Chinamen empty their bowls of snowy rice with startling 
 rapidity by a deft manipulation of the chop-sticks, and a 
 pair of larrikins, trying to imitate them, fail to lift as much 
 as one grain to their lips with implements so unsatis- 
 factory. Pig-tailed waiters flit noiselessly hither and 
 thither, and the watchful proprietor, bland and inscrutable, 
 allows nothing to escape his notice from his elevated 
 perch near the door. Next door is a gambling-house, 
 where tickets are marked and fan-tan is played in an 
 inner room, while not far away is a stuffy chamber where 
 four or five Chinamen and as many Europeans are 
 dreaming blissfully in an atmosphere tainted with the 
 smell of burning opium. 
 
 The distinctive sights of the Australian streets include 
 the Chinese vegetable merchant, with his two heavy 
 baskets of vegetables, balanced on a bamboo pole, sup- 
 ported on his shoulders. A group of Hindoo or Syrian 
 hawkers may also be seen passing from house to house, 
 pressing their cheap wares in the most imperfect English. 
 More peculiarly Australian is the rabbit-man, with his 
 
 87 
 
Australian Life 
 
 stentorian yell of ' Wild rabbits, oh ! ' and his cart with 
 a frame on which dozens of pairs of slaughtered bunnies 
 are hanging. One shilling a pair is the usual price, and 
 the rabbit-man does a thriving trade in the face of an 
 expiring Australian prejudice against the rabbit as food. 
 Australian shops are much the same as shops anywhere 
 else, but the fishmonger and game-seller sometimes 
 festoons his shop front with strings of bright plumaged 
 parrots, useless as food, but attractive to the eye. Curious 
 fish are on the marble slabs, pink schnapper and hideous 
 flat-head, with silver barracouta like enormous mackerel, 
 and piles of tiny garfish. The game includes wild duck, 
 magpie-geese, and black swan, with a wallaby or two 
 and tails of the larger kangaroos. The wild turkey — 
 which is really a bustard, and the finest game bird 
 Austraha produces — may occasionally be seen, but it is 
 now very rare and shy. The game-shop and the fruit- 
 shop serve best to remind the visitor that he is in an 
 Australian city, none of the others differing in any par- 
 ticular from the shops of a British city. 
 
 A stroll through a suburban street in the cool of the 
 evening is quite another afiair. Here the houses are all 
 single-storied bungalows, or villas, as the Australians prefer 
 to call them, each standing in its own plot of garden. 
 Glance over the fragrant pittosporum hedge, and you may 
 see the lawn sprinkler pleasantly at work upon a grass plot 
 bordered with masses of bright phlox and thriving roses and 
 pelargoniums. The bamboo blind, which has been down 
 all day to keep the sun off the housefront, is now rolled 
 up, and in an easy-chair on the verandah reclines pater- 
 familias, clad in cool flannels. Doors and windows are 
 open to admit the evening breeze, but before each is a 
 wire screen to exclude flies and mosquitoes. From the 
 drawing-room comes the sound of voices, mingled with 
 the strains of the latest comic opera. It is a glimpse of 
 the Australian at home. 
 
 There is an air of roominess and privacy about these 
 Australian suburbs that stands for a good deal of solid 
 
 88 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 comfort. The citizen swings in his hammock and smokes 
 his pipe without any consciousness of being observed 
 from the top floor of some building close at hand, for a 
 day's march through AustraHa's suburbia will fail to 
 reveal anything in the shape of * residential mansions.' 
 The most arduous task of the amateur gardener is the 
 constant use of the watering-can ; the rest is done by 
 Nature with a lavish hand. The vine and the fig tree are 
 by no means impossible, and a rough erection of wooden 
 laths makes an ideal fern-house. These things figure 
 very largely in the life of the average Australian city 
 dweller, who leaves his city office at five, changes into 
 easy clothing as soon as he arrives home, dines com- 
 fortably about half-past six, and then potters about his 
 garden until it grows dark. A few friends may call for 
 a game of cards or a little music, and a supper follows 
 in which fruit and light wines or lemon squash are 
 prominent items. The office or the warehouse claims 
 him at nine o'clock the next day, when, as we have seen, 
 he must plunge again into the headlong rush of Australian 
 business. 
 
 89 
 
Australian Life 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 STATE SOCIALISM AND THE LABOUR PARTY 
 
 The Australian answers truly to Aristotle's description of 
 man as * a political animal/ and his interest in politics 
 may be set down as the inevitable result of the intimate 
 relations existing between the people and the State. The 
 choice of his rulers is a matter of the deepest concern to 
 a man who encounters the results of their administration 
 at every turn, and as the tendency in Australia is to 
 increase rather than diminish the functions of the State, 
 the Australian not unreasonably bases his political 
 opinions upon the events of his everyday life. Those who 
 dwell in the bush have the State for landlord, and can, in 
 bad seasons, obtain the remittance or postponement of 
 the collection of rent. The State owns the railways 
 which carry their produce to the seaports, and, by an 
 increase or reduction of freights, may materially affect 
 their prosperity. The State undertakes the education of 
 their children, establishing the schools and maintaining 
 the teachers, while grants of money for the construction 
 of roads and bridges may also be obtained from the 
 State. To the same source they look for police protec- 
 tion and postal and telegraphic services, and for help and 
 supervision in the estabhshment of new industries. After 
 bad seasons the State supplies them with seed wheat, and 
 sometimes advances money to tide them over to the next 
 harvest. 
 
 For the artisans and miners the State does even more. 
 90 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 It regulates the conditions under which they work and 
 their hours of labour, and even fixes their rate of 
 wages. It decides disputes between labour and capital, 
 enforces the closing of shops at certain hours, and super- 
 vises the workshops and factories. It buys the miner's 
 gold, and opens up markets for the producer in foreign 
 countries. In one Australian province the State has 
 turned publican, and retails beer and spirits of the best 
 quality at the smallest percentage of profit. When the 
 workman falls out of employment, the State accepts the 
 responsibihty of finding work for him; and when he 
 becomes too old to toil any longer, it pensions him 
 off:* 
 
 The first result of this condition of affairs is the exist- 
 ence of a large official class in the employment of the 
 State. Pubhc servants there are, of course, in every 
 community, but it is doubtful whether any country main- 
 tains so many in proportion to its population as Australia. 
 The administration of the vast areas of public lands, the 
 maintenance and working of thousands of miles of public 
 railroads, the education of the children, and the policing 
 of the country alone involve the employment of many 
 thousands of civil servants. Each new function assumed 
 by the State necessitates the creation of a fresh depart- 
 ment, and a further addition to the vast army of the 
 State-employed. 
 
 These people are united by common interests, their 
 position being defined by legislative enactments which 
 affect them all alike. When all exercised the franchise, 
 they were able to show their resentment at measures of 
 retrenchment and economy in so marked a manner as to 
 cause political uneasiness, and in one State at least it has 
 been found necessary to restrict their political representa- 
 tion to special members whom they may appoint to 
 guard their interests in Parliament. 
 
 ♦ The functions ascribed to the State still differ in the various 
 political divisions of Australia, and these statements hold good only 
 for some of the Australian States. 
 
 91 
 
Australian Life 
 
 As the State is so large an employer of labour it is 
 only natural that those seeking employment should turn 
 first to the State. Short hours, regular employment in a 
 position which can only be forfeited by misconduct, and 
 a salary which annually increases by a small sum are 
 strong inducements to the father who wishes to place his 
 son in life. As a consequence there is keen competition 
 for all Government positions, and the interference of 
 politicians was at one time so frequent as to give rise to 
 something like a scandal, the public service having been 
 over-manned with nominees of various members of Parlia- 
 ment, who seldom cared whether the servants they forced 
 upon the country possessed any special fitness for the 
 work they were supposed to do. A strong manifestation 
 of public feeling took place throughout Australia in con- 
 sequence of this practice, and it was abolished, the public 
 service being removed — nominally at least — beyond the 
 sphere of political influence. 
 
 But there is another class which demands, and fre- 
 quently obtains, employment from the Government. 
 These are the mechanics and artisans of the cities who 
 may have been thrown out of work owing to a temporary 
 slackness in the trades in which they are customarily 
 employed. Such dull seasons not infrequently occur in 
 the Australian cities, ' and the out-of-works congregate 
 upon some spare plot of ground, listening to the speeches 
 of men whose one cry is that it is the duty of the Govern- 
 ment to provide them with employment. These meetings 
 of the unemployed usually end in a march to the 
 Government offices, where the leading agitators demand 
 interviews from members of the Ministry and from the 
 Governor. Should they obtain the desired interview, 
 they demand work as a right, referring to the many public 
 works it will be necessary to construct in the future, and 
 suggesting that some of these shall be put in hand at 
 once, the cost to be met, of course, from borrowed money. 
 These unemployed of the cities contrast but poorly with 
 the unemployed of the bush, who bravely shoulder their 
 
 92 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 swags and tramp off in search of the work they never 
 think of demanding from the State. 
 
 A reference has been made to borrowed monies, for it 
 is impossible to avoid some notice of AustraHan financial 
 methods. The railways and other public works have all 
 been constructed with money borrowed from the British 
 investor, and these loans involve the payment of a sum 
 of more than ;^9,ooo,ooo each year in interest alone. 
 At present there is no attempt to make the railways 
 return the interest upon the money they have cost to 
 build, or any further sum that might go toward repaying 
 the principal. The policy is rather adopted of working 
 the railways for the immediate benefit of the people, and 
 for the purpose of developing the resources of the country. 
 Each fresh enterprise means an addition to the debt of 
 the country, and it cannot be disputed that the people 
 who enjoy the convenience and cheapness of State-owned 
 railways, in a land that is far from being settled, are piling 
 up for their descendants a heavy obligation, that must 
 some day be met. A people holding the advanced 
 opinion that no man willing and able to work should be 
 refused employment by the Government ought at least 
 to avoid the injustice of indulging in philanthropy, while 
 leaving the bill to be settled at some time in the difficult 
 future. 
 
 It is the knowledge that the future of Australia has 
 been so liberally discounted by the loan policy that 
 tempers the admiration which is certainly due to the 
 Australians by reason of their provision for the aged. 
 There are now many aged couples in Australia who are 
 living in content in the little home they have made, and 
 who, under a less humane system, would be separated and 
 forced into charitable institutions. Not all the Australian 
 States have adopted the system of old-age pensions, and 
 it is true that instances have occurred of these benefits 
 being bestowed upon persons undeserving of them. 
 These, however, are but faults of administration, and 
 cannot be urged against the principle itself. 
 
 93 
 
Australian Life 
 
 In the same spirit of humanity Australia has experi- 
 mented with legislation designed for settHng the differ- 
 ences between capital and labour, and for preventing the 
 occurrence of strikes. The laws under notice provide 
 that all such disputes shall be settled by an Arbitration 
 Court, over which a judge presides, while representatives 
 of both sides help in its constitution. It is claimed that 
 these courts have worked satisfactorily on the whole, 
 although some grave defects have come to light in the 
 operation of the Arbitration Acts. This principle of 
 compulsory arbitration is one of the foremost doctrines 
 of the political party known as the Australian Labour 
 party. As this pohtical party, now rapidly growing in 
 power in the Commonwealth, promises to exercise a 
 notable influence upon the conditions of life in Australia, 
 and as it advocates a wide extension of the principles of 
 State Socialism, some account of it and of its aims is 
 necessary. 
 
 The weapon employed by the Australian workman to 
 secure the eight hours' working day was Trade Unionism ; 
 and in order to celebrate his victory, he appropriated an 
 annual holiday. A monument bearing the inscription, 
 * Eight hours' work, eight hours' recreation, eight hours' 
 rest,' is erected in the city of Ballarat to the memory of one 
 Galloway, a protagonist of the cause in that city. Else- 
 where in Australia men equally unknown to fame are 
 similarly preserved from obhvion, but the Festival of 
 Eight Hours' Day is the most striking memorial of the first 
 Labour victory. 
 
 From that time forward the Labour party trusted 
 in its unions, and fought capital by means of^ strikes 
 and threats of strikes. For a time the unions carried 
 all before them, and the men flocked to their banners. 
 Trade was brisk and work was plentiful, so that the 
 unions were able to accumulate very considerable funds. 
 They pressed their advantage too heavily, however, and 
 drove the employers into a combination against them. 
 
 The two opposing forces came into collision in the 
 94 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 year 1891, with results from which Australia has not 
 yet recovered. The quarrel began with a maritime 
 strike^ which laid up the vessels plying between the 
 various Australian ports, and soon spread far and wide 
 throughout the continent. The whole pastoral industry 
 was dislocated by a strike of shearers, and among other 
 actions the Labour leaders alienated public sympathy by 
 calling out the gas stokers, and leaving the city of 
 Melbourne in darkness. It was a long battle, and 
 bitterly fought out. The men had ample funds to draw 
 upon in the beginning, and showed remarkable courage 
 and resolution in fighting to the very last. But they 
 were fighting a losing battle, in which Australian Trade 
 Unionism was shattered by a blow from which it was 
 predicted it would never recover. 
 
 It is true that the unions have never recovered the 
 prestige they lost in the great strike, but the defeat of 
 the men stiffened the cause of Labour in Australia as 
 even victory could not have done. The method of 
 fighting was altered — that is all, and the scene of combat 
 was transferred to the ballot-box. The Australian work- 
 man, remembering that he had a vote, determined to 
 employ it to the one end of furthering the objects of the 
 Labour party. The representatives of Labour who con- 
 trived to be returned to Parliament went to work in 
 the same way — they consistently played one political 
 party against another, while standing aloof from both, 
 ever on the look-out for some legislative advantage for 
 Labour. 
 
 Before the Federation of the Australian States, the 
 Labourites were continually held in check by the Upper 
 Houses of State Legislature, composed either of nominee 
 members or members elected on a very restricted 
 franchise. The Commonwealth, however, has been pro- 
 vided with a constitution more democratic than any that 
 the Australian States possess, since the broad principle 
 of universal adult suffrage governs the election of both 
 legislative chambers. The accomplishment of the 
 
 95 
 
Australian Life 
 
 Federation furnished the Labour men with an oppor- 
 tunity, and they were the more readily able to grasp it 
 because, with the new era in Australian history, they 
 broadened their base and extended their objects. From 
 its inception the Federal Labour party has been devoted 
 to State Socialism, and has attracted supporters, and 
 especially leaders, who are Labourites only in one sense 
 of the word. 
 
 The majority of the Labour members of the Common- 
 wealth Parliament are not workmen, but professional 
 men — barristers^ doctors, journalists, and master printers. 
 The British workman, who has a profound mistrust of 
 the class immediately above him, prefers to give his vote 
 to a man of his own class, or to one whom he describes 
 as a * real gentleman.' The Australian workmen, on the 
 other hand, have more than a suspicion that the disaster 
 of the great strike was brought about by unskilful leader- 
 ship. * Lions led by asses,' they were called at the time, 
 and the phrase sticks. They have now chosen for their 
 leaders men who are fighting their way upward in the 
 professional ranks, and they have no reason to complain 
 of the result of their choice. The leaders of the Com- 
 monwealth Labour party, and its representatives generally, 
 are equal in ability, education, and general grasp of 
 political affairs to those with whom they come politically 
 in contact. 
 
 What the party has accomplished, and hopes to 
 accompHsh, can best be gathered by reference to the 
 programme put forward for the elections at the end of 
 1903. The main planks of the platform were : a White 
 Australia, arbitration and conciliation, old-age pensions, 
 nationalisation of monopolies, a citizen defence force, 
 restriction of public borrowing, and navigation laws. 
 The first of these objects had been gained by the passing 
 of laws during the term of the first Commonwealth 
 Parliament by which coloured aliens are excluded from 
 Australia. The second and third objects involve the 
 application to the whole continent of principles enforced 
 
 96 
 
C 
 
 sT 
 
 o 
 t> 
 o 
 
 p< 
 o 
 
 pq 
 > 
 Pi 
 < 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 in some of the States, though not in all. The fourth 
 plank in the Labour platform is capable of a very wide 
 interpretation. Among the other monopolies it is pro- 
 posed to place under State management may be men- 
 tioned the sale of intoxicating liquor and tobacco. The 
 Labourites also advocate State development of the de- 
 posits of iron ore in Australia, and the establishment 
 of a State bank of issue and State life and fire insurance 
 departments. From the mining of iron by the State to 
 the mining of precious metals is an easy step, and the 
 advocates of private enterprise are able to see in this 
 vaguely worded policy a very disquieting menace. 
 
 The restriction of public borrowing implies an alter- 
 native of heavy direct taxation, if public works in Australia 
 are to be constructed in the future as in the past. This 
 taxation, the Labour party indicates, should take the 
 form of a land tax, framed in such a way as to press 
 with special weight upon absentee owners and the pro- 
 prietors of unimproved lands. In any case, the members 
 of the party adhere firmly to the opinion that the large 
 public debt of Australia should not be further increased, 
 and by consistently maintaining this view command the 
 sympathy of many who are not in accord with their 
 general aims. 
 
 Upon this programme the Labour party went to the 
 polls for the Commonwealth election of 1903. For 
 many months before the election the labour organisa- 
 tions were at work, making propaganda and selecting 
 suitable candidates. For the female vote, exercised for 
 the first time at that election, the proposal for the regu- 
 lation of the liquor trade was a tempting bait, since the 
 experience of New Zealand and South Australia has 
 shown that in this subject of all others the woman voter 
 is most keenly interested. The result of the election 
 was a remarkable triumph for the party, which received 
 a notable accession to the number of its members in 
 both Houses, and especially in the Senate, or Upper 
 House of Legislature. In the session that followed an 
 97 H 
 
Australian Life 
 
 unexpected turn of the political wheel gave the Labourites 
 an opportunity of assuming office. Mr. Watson, the 
 leader of the party, succeeded in forming a Ministry, 
 and the world was afforded the spectacle of a continent 
 of three million square miles being governed by repre- 
 sentatives of the working-classes. After a few months' 
 tenure of office, however, the Labour Ministry had to 
 face a combination of the opposing parties, which was 
 brought about by the too SociaUstic tendency of its 
 proposed legislation. The Labour party was accordingly 
 forced to vacate the Government benches, but not before 
 its leaders had shown their possession of considerable 
 administrative firmness and ability. The Labour party 
 still remains the only political organisation in Australia 
 which possesses cohesion and a definite policy, and to 
 this fact a large measure of its success may be attributed. 
 
 98 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 INDUSTRIAL PIONEERS 
 
 The coming of the white man to this continent of the 
 Southern Seas is an oft-told tale, but not without its 
 constituents of romantic and heroic interest. Any close 
 examination of the details of Australian discovery would 
 be out of place in a book concerned with the past only 
 as far as it affects the present. The outlines of Australian 
 history, however, compel some reference, since the means 
 by which the country was populated is largely responsible 
 for the character and distribution of the Australian people 
 to-day. The beginning of Australia was a legend, due 
 no doubt to an unrecorded discovery made by some 
 long-forgotten adventurer. Certain it is that early in 
 the sixteenth century the geographers of the time agreed 
 that somewhere in the Southern Seas there was a great 
 unknown land of mystery. The mapmakers of those 
 days dotted this great South Land on their maps of the 
 world, varying its outline and dimensions, each according 
 to his own fancy. In 1598 we find the Dutch historian 
 Cornelius Wytfliet writing of it : " The Terra Australis 
 is the most southern of all lands, and is separated from 
 New Guinea by a narrow strait. . . . The Terra Australis 
 begins at one or two degrees from the Equator, and is 
 ascertained by some to be of so great an extent that 
 if it were thoroughly explored it would be regarded as 
 a fifth part of the world." 
 
 Within a few years Torres confirmed part of this guess 
 99 
 
Australian Life 
 
 — if it was a guess — by sailing between New Guinea 
 and the mainland of Australia by the Strait that has 
 ever since borne his name. Then came the Dutch, who 
 discovered Australia as far as the history of the land 
 can tell. Tasman, most intelligent of ocean explorers, 
 found Tasmania, which he named Van Diemen's Land 
 after his patron, and New Zealand, which still bears 
 the curious Dutch name he gave it. Indeed, Australia 
 was known in the seventeenth century as New Holland, 
 and had considerable difficulty in shaking off the name. 
 Thus a good deal was known about the great South 
 Land before the first Englishman landed on its shores. 
 He was William Dampier, a genial pirate, who wrote 
 of his adventures with such engaging interest that he 
 attracted much English attention to the new country. 
 On a second voyage to Australia, undertaken in 1699 
 in the Admiralty vessel Roebuck^ Dampier found that 
 the new country offered few attractions to him, for he 
 was a picker-up of unconsidered trifles rather than an 
 explorer. 
 
 More than half a century later came Captain Cook, 
 the most accurate, painstaking, and scientific explorer 
 the world has ever known. The conclusion of his re- 
 markable life-work left little more to be learned about 
 the Australian coast, and that little was carefully and 
 well investigated by men who had the advantage of 
 acquaintance with his methods. On the scientific side 
 of Cook's expedition was Sir Joseph Banks, whose 
 enthusiastic account of Botany Bay remains to this day 
 as an apt illustration of the deception practised by 
 Australia in her most winsome moments. The worth- 
 lessness of the land at Botany Bay, which appeared to 
 Banks an. earthly paradise, was soon discovered by 
 Governor Phillip, and to this day it remains barren and 
 unproductive. But it is well that Banks formed such a 
 glowing opinion of the new country, for his advocacy 
 had no little weight with the Government that first 
 attempted the colonisation of Australia. 
 
 100 
 
in Town and Country * ' ' ' 
 
 The long discussion that ended in the despatch of 
 Captain Phillip to establish a penal settlement in Australia 
 may well be passed over. It should be said, however, 
 that the early advocates of the colonisation of Australia 
 did not even include a convict establishment in their 
 scheme. That was added by a Government hard pressed 
 to dispose of its malefactors, and in time the Colony 
 became a penal establishment, and little else. Captain 
 Phillip landed at Port Jackson on January 26, 1788, 
 a date that is now annually celebrated in Australia as 
 Anniversary Day. He was only a few days ahead of 
 a French expedition, commanded by M. de la Perouse 
 Had Phillip been a week later he would probably have 
 found Australia in the hands of the French, and it would 
 be necessary to write the history of the continent after 
 quite another fashion. For many years after the landing 
 of Governor Phillip, Australia remained a convict settle- 
 ment. It was ruled with an iron hand by prison, 
 governors, who looked with disfavour upon any free 
 settlers who might come there, and deliberately stifled 
 any attempt to enlarge the area of settled country by 
 exploration. But during those years one man at least 
 was working steadfastly for the prosperity of his adopted 
 country. Captain John MacArthur was a member of 
 the New South Wales Corps, a military body raised in 
 England for service in Australia. MacArthur belied 
 his military training by a sure instinct in matters both 
 agricultural and pastoral, and seems to have grasped the 
 pastoral possibilities of Australia immediately upon his 
 arrival there. He was fortunate enough to obtain from 
 Cape Colony a few of the merino sheep that had long 
 been one of the most jealously guarded possessions of 
 Spain, and with these he began sheep breeding on 
 scientific lines. The result of his experiments was a 
 wool-producing sheep of a character different from that 
 of the Spanish flock, but bearing a fleece of equal 
 quality. He was granted a large grazing area to carry 
 on his experiments, and encouraged by the interest of 
 
 lOI 
 
Australian Life 
 
 Governor King, who then ruled the Colony, his flock 
 increased wonderfully. Within a century those few 
 Spanish sheep smuggled away to Australia were repre- 
 sented by flocks numbering more than 100,000,000, 
 spread over the pastures of the whole continent. 
 
 Captain MacArthur was the father of the pastoral 
 industry of Australia, and his efforts were splendidly 
 aided by the work of the explorers. North, south, and 
 west they pushed, over the rugged peaks of the Dividing 
 Range into the strange unknown country beyond. They 
 followed the great inland streams of New South Wales 
 to their junction with the river Murray, and so to their 
 outlet in the sea. They crossed the desert plains of 
 the interior, and the fertile plateaux of south-eastern 
 Australia, always on the look-out for land suitable for 
 settlement. Wherever they went the hardy band of free 
 settlers followed, glad to escape from the ferment of the 
 penal settlement on the coast. Some of the explorers 
 lost their lives in their bold endeavours to penetrate 
 the unknown, while others returned to safety after per- 
 forming deeds of heroism and endurance that seem to 
 have been well-nigh miraculous. The practical value 
 of their work was shown by the expansion of the pastoral 
 industry during the first half of last century, and by a 
 progress in settlement that enabled Australia to reap 
 a full advantage of the golden awakening that was to 
 follow. 
 
 The discovery of gold did not take place until 1851, 
 but rumours of the existence of the precious metal were 
 current long before that date. The search for it was 
 steadily discouraged by the Government, which feared 
 the effect of so unsettling a discovery upon the popula- 
 tion, then largely composed of convicts. But the golden 
 discoveries made in CaHfornia in 1848 drew attention to 
 the possibilities of Australia, and it was inevitable that 
 the secrets still held by the soil must sooner or later be 
 brought to light. The instrument of the discovery was 
 Edward Hargraves, a New South Wales settler who had 
 
 102 
 
CO 
 
 g 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 been attracted to the Californian coast by the tales of 
 treasure to be dug out of the earth in hatfuls. Hargraves 
 got little gold in California, but he got an idea which 
 afterwards proved highly profitable to him. He was 
 quick to notice how the gold-bearing regions of California 
 resembled country he had seen in New South Wales, 
 both in the characteristics of soil and of rocks, and he 
 argued that gold would probably be found in such 
 country in Australia. Thither he returned, determined 
 to verify his conclusion. He has left an interesting 
 account of his find. He determined to * prospect ' in 
 Summer Hill Creek, a tributary of the Macquarie River, 
 and he met with success almost at his first trial. On 
 February 12, 185 1, he found alluvial gold at this spot. 
 In the greatest excitement he turned to the bushman 
 who accompanied him, and explained the consequences 
 of their find. * I shall be knighted, Bill, and your name 
 will get into the papers. As for our old horse here, 
 when he dies they'll stuff him and put him in a museum.' 
 The prophecy was a lame one, for none of these things 
 happened. But Hargraves earned by his discovery a 
 Government reward of ;^ 10,000 and a Government 
 position as Commissioner of Crown Lands. 
 
 When Hargraves* discovery became known to the 
 outside world, there followed such a rush of immigrants 
 as Australia had long needed and desired. They came 
 from all quarters of the globe, brave, enterprising men 
 well fitted to be the ancestors of a new race. Some of 
 them were little suited to the work of mining, and soon 
 dropped into the callings they had followed before their 
 pilgrimage to Australia. Many settled on the land, or 
 in the towns that grew up about the richest mining fields 
 of the country. Some returned in disgust to the Old 
 World, which they had left with such high hope of 
 fortune's favours. But the access to the population was 
 enormous. Victoria alone gained a quarter of a million 
 people in five years, and nearly all of them pioneers of 
 the finest type. Younger sons of noble houses rubbed 
 103 
 
Australian Life 
 
 shoulders with enterprising tradesmen, adventurers from 
 every corner of the earth worked side by side with stoUd 
 miners from Cornwall and Lancashire. But they all had 
 the saving grace of imagination, that brought them so 
 long and dangerous a journey across the seas in search 
 of the wealth of Eldorado. 
 
 Cities grew up as if by magic. Not many years 
 before John Batman had found on the banks of the river 
 Yarra what he declared was a fine site for a tillage.' 
 Melbourne rose on the village site, and in half a century 
 was a city with a population of half a million. The 
 * roaring fifties ' are still remembered as the days when 
 Australia held a prosperity never equalled in the world's 
 history, and a touch of romance as well. The gold 
 fever never passed away from the land. It is there still, 
 as I hope presently to show. But the fury of gold seek- 
 ing passed away, and the red-shirted miners became 
 peaceful farmers, or prosperous tradesmen and mayors 
 of country towns. Gold mining became simply a trade, 
 although a trade from which the element of romance 
 could never be altogether dissevered. 
 
 Twenty years later Australia had another burst of 
 prosperity, though it was a fictitious prosperity, as it is 
 easy enough to see now. It was created by the lavish 
 expenditure of borrowed money on public works of all 
 kinds, and on commercial enterprises of a private nature 
 as well. The country experienced a series of * booms.' 
 Money invested in silver mines inflated these to many 
 times their real intrinsic value ; money invested in land 
 caused extravagant prices to be paid for worthless allot- 
 ments in remote city suburbs. It was an era of frantic 
 speculation, and it ended in a collapse from which only 
 a highly recuperative country could ever have recovered. 
 A recital of the successive calamities that struck 
 Australia during the ultimate decade of last century 
 would read exceedingly like the first chapter of the 
 Book of Job. A great industrial conflict paralysed the 
 shipping, mining, and pastoral industries, and dislocated 
 
 104 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 the whole business of the continent. It was followed 
 by a financial crisis. Banks closed their doors, thousands 
 and tens of thousands were ruined, and the country was 
 plunged into a commercial stagnation from which it has 
 only now recovered. Then came the drought ; and it 
 came to stay. The pastoral history of Australia knows 
 no other drought like it, for it lasted for ten years. 
 Many pastoralists concluded that it was a permanent 
 drought, and either by choice or necessity abandoned 
 their pastoral holdings. It swept away half the animal 
 life of the country. No one will ever know what it cost 
 Australia. One illustration only may be supplied. The 
 wheat crop of Australia for 1902-1903 — the last of the 
 dry years — was worth ;^2, 000,000 in round figures. 
 Next year, from a smaller area of cultivated ground, 
 wheat worth ;j^i 2,000,000 was harvested. Wheat, of 
 course, is only one product among many. 
 
 The greatest asset of a new country is population, and 
 it will never be known what Australia lost in this 
 direction by the drought. The population of the 
 continent rose from 2,000,000 to 3,000,000 in eleven 
 and three-quarter years. It has just reached 4,000,000, 
 but this additional million of human beings has taken 
 more than sixteen years to acquire. The position would 
 have been worse but for an opportune discovery of gold 
 in Western Australia. An outlet for the restless surplus 
 of unwillingly idle people was found in the continent, 
 and while the rest of Australia was languishing, Western 
 Australia expanded in the rays of a golden sun of 
 prosperity. But the continent could not be bolstered 
 up for long on the basis of gold mines, and would have 
 fared exceedingly ill but for the genius of one man, 
 whose name is still unknown to many Australians. ^ 
 
 Some day Australia will build a national Walhalla — 
 perhaps in the bush capital of the Commonwealth — 
 to hold the statues of its departed great ones. John 
 MacArthur will be there, no doubt, and Hargraves as 
 well, for these are the pioneers of two of Austraha's 
 
Australian Life 
 
 greatest industries. My third worthy is James Harrison, 
 who first experimented in the ocean carriage of perish- 
 able produce. Harrison was a journahst — when he was 
 not an inventor — who Hved in the sleepy little town of 
 Geelong, near the entrance to Port Phillip Bay. The 
 State of Victoria at that time was trying to dispose of 
 the surplus products of its agriculturists — meat, butter, 
 fruit, poultry and the like, — by creating a home market 
 for their consumption. That is to say, an endeavour, 
 not wholly unsuccessful, was made to create local 
 manufactures and an artisan class by the imposition 
 of heavy customs duties on imported manufactures. 
 Harrison attacked the problem from another point of 
 view. He tried to find some way of getting these 
 perishable products to the empty markets of the Old 
 World without impairing their freshness and value. 
 Among his clever inventions was one for making ice 
 cheaply and in large quantities, and he, too, evolved 
 the idea of the refrigerating chamber. An attempt to 
 put his invention to practical use involved him in 
 financial ruin, but it established the possibility of 
 success. 
 
 Harrison failed, in the pecuniary sense, and ended his 
 life as a hard-working journalist. But his idea, to which, 
 let it be said, he gave practical form, has meant the 
 salvation of Australia. The Commonwealth has at last 
 found markets for the goods that are most readily pro- 
 duced there, and they are markets without any limit. In 
 1904 Australia sold ;^2o,ooo,ooo worth of products in 
 excess of her purchases. Whatever the poUtical econo- 
 mist of Great Britain may have to say to this credit 
 balance, in Australia it is regarded as highly satisfactory. 
 A large proportion of the money was received for pro- 
 ducts that could only leave Australia in the refrigerating 
 chamber. Cold storage has even shown a solution of 
 the rabbit problem, so long the nightmare of the Australian 
 farmer and pastoralist. In ten years ;^i, 5 00,000 has 
 been received in Australia for frozen rabbits, and so 
 
 106 
 
^ g 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 a pest has been converted into a profit. A modest 
 monument in the Geelong cemetery, erected by a few 
 admirers, and an occasional reference in the Press are 
 all the tribute Australia pays to James Harrison. He 
 has deserved better of his country than that. 
 
 107 
 
Australian Life 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 GOLDEN AUSTRALIA 
 
 In order to understand how Australia was quickened 
 into life as if by magic, when the golden discoveries of half 
 a century ago were made, it is necessary to visit one of 
 the inland cities called into existence at that period. Of 
 these the city of Ballarat is perhaps the most famous, and 
 it is certainly one of the most interesting illustrations of 
 the transformation effected in fifty years of Australian 
 history. Standing in a broad and fertile valley, this trim 
 and well-built city of forty thousand people to-day bears 
 little resemblance to any preconceived notion one may 
 have formed of a mining town. Its principal street is an 
 avenue two hundred feet wide, with a double row of tall 
 oaks and eucalyptus running up its centre. In the veiy 
 heart of the city is a public square, where white marble 
 statues, that stand unsoiled in the open air, have been 
 set up in honour of Shakespeare, Burns, and Moore. 
 Looking eastwards from this square, beyond the outskirts 
 of the city, the land rises to two great volcanic hills, clad 
 from foot to crest in forests of dark-leaved eucalyptus. 
 Broad straight streets intersect the main avenue at 
 regular intervals, and each of these in its turn is an 
 avenue of eucalyptus, oak, and pine. Pleasant villas 
 and neat cottages line the streets, and everywhere are 
 gardens and trees. On the western boundary of the city 
 was once a dismal swamp, now converted into a beautiful 
 lake, fringed with weeping willows and surrounded by 
 io8 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 plantations of ornamental trees. On the further shore of 
 the lake is a beautiful pleasure ground, where marble 
 statues gleam amid fern grottoes and rose bowers, and 
 children play all day on lawns of soft English grass 
 shaded by trees drawn from every quarter of the globe. 
 It is a city of gardens rather than a city of gold. 
 
 Sixty years ago King Billy and his tribe of aborigines 
 roamed in undisputed possession of the valley, then 
 covered with virgin bush. Ten years later a hundred 
 thousand diggers were living under canvas on the field, 
 and the roaring days of Ballarat had begun. Some of 
 those diggers are still alive in Ballarat, old men who have 
 seen the city advance through its fifty years of history, 
 and can point to the spot where some tall building stands 
 and say, * Here I sank my first shaft, and there I bottomed 
 on a hat-full of nuggets.' Ballarat, these veterans will 
 tell you, has its spots of historical and romantic 
 interest. Here is the forge where one picturesque digger 
 had his horse shod with shoes of gold, and hard by is 
 the hotel where lucky miners lit their pipes with five- 
 pound notes, and adorned the barmaids with necklaces 
 made of virgin nuggets. The theatre where Lola Montes 
 sang and danced her way into the hearts of thousands of 
 red-shirted men — not one woman in the whole house — 
 and the stage where she stood bowing amid a golden 
 shower of nuggets and specimens; these have been 
 pulled down, but a monument marks the spot where the 
 digger and the soldier tried conclusions — the site of the 
 Eureka Stockade. 
 
 Twenty years after the gold discoveries Ballarat was a 
 city of wood and canvas. On *The Corner,' not far 
 from the present Square of Statues, was a busy share 
 mart, where men stood all day in the open air, buying 
 and selling mining scrip. The roar of quartz batteries 
 lulled the children to sleep each night, and between the 
 shops and houses were reared the * poppet heads' and 
 heaps of tailings that marked the situation of active 
 mining operations. When a rich discovery was made, 
 109 
 
Australian Life 
 
 the throng of open-air speculators on 'The Corner' 
 stretched across the wide street, and undeterred by the 
 fall of night these gamblers continued to buy and sell 
 their shares by the flickering light of an occasional 
 candle. * Coined into sovereigns,' your ancient guide 
 will tell you, * the gold taken out of Ballarat would 
 stretch in a long line across the continent. But,' he 
 will add, with a mournful shake of his head, * very little 
 of it has remained in the place.' 
 
 But Ballarat does not live in the past. The worked- 
 out mines have been filled up, the unsightly ' mullock 
 heaps ' have been removed, while woollen mills and 
 factories for the manufacture of agricultural machinery 
 have been erected on the exploited ground. In the 
 outskirts of the city mines may still be seen, and any one 
 curious and adventurous enough may descend thousands 
 of feet below the surface of the earth to see the miners 
 working the veins of sparkling quartz. Here and there 
 a vacant area of land, scarred with hundreds of abandoned 
 shafts, remains as witness of the thoroughness with which 
 the golden district has been explored. But the golden 
 era of Ballarat is practically at an end, and the city is 
 now the centre of one of the most fertile agricultural 
 districts in all Australia. 
 
 The miners went to Ballarat and stayed there, but 
 auriferous Australia is dotted with deserted mining camps 
 where nothing remains to recall the glories of the past, 
 except the gravM heaps and gaping holes the diggers left 
 behind them, a store, a post-office, a hotel or two, and 
 half a dozen cottages, with perhaps a noisome little 
 Chinese camp to prove that the yellow man can glean a 
 living from the leavings, of the white man. Yet in its 
 palmy days the * rush ' had been a human ant-hill, 
 where forty thousand diggers toiled feverishly all day, 
 and drank, gambled, and sang through the nights in their 
 fire-lit canvas tents ! 
 
 These are the dying gold-fields and the dead ones. 
 Over in Western Australia is a golden city in the desert 
 
 no 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 not ten years old, but already replete with all the 
 conveniences of a great modern city. Here in Kalgoorlie 
 men live by gold alone, and talk only of mines and mining 
 shares. Day and night the thud of the quartz batteries 
 is never hushed, and almost every day a precious freight 
 of golden bars and cakes is despatched by train to the 
 capital for coinage. It is a city of big' mines, equipped 
 with all the most modern appliances for extracting the 
 last fraction of gold from the ore. Kalgoorlie is situated 
 in the arid belt, and since the operations of these mines 
 require a plentiful supply of water, a stream has been 
 dammed and a great reservoir made near the coast. 
 From this reservoir the water is pumped through steel 
 pipes for a distance of more than two hundred miles to 
 drive the engines and fill the sluices of the Kalgoorlie 
 mines. It is a wonderful place, this golden city in the 
 desert. In its big hotels bronzed prospectors in evening 
 dress discuss their future plans over elaborate champagne 
 dinners. In another month's titne these men, clad in 
 flannel shirt and soiled moleskins, and begrimed with the 
 red dust of the dry blowing machine, will be living on 
 tinned meat and condensed water. Now they ride on 
 electric trams and motor-cars, and take their pleasure in 
 a great theatre or at a race-course where stakes worth a 
 thousand pounds are decided. 
 
 Two hundred miles further inland a straggling pro- 
 cession of men is making its way across the unknown 
 desert to a place which, men say, holds wealth surpassing 
 the mines of KalgoorHe. Well in the front of the 
 procession ride the cyclists, each with his store of water 
 in a tin cylinder that is strapped in the diamond frame 
 of his machine. The cyclist prospector carries food and 
 water only, leaving the rest of his belongings to be borne 
 by the slower drays that follow in his track. Next come 
 the horsemen and camel riders, and men driving buggies 
 drawn by teams of horses; and after them the heavy 
 drays and the long-drawn-out train of footmen. Some 
 of these carry their swags, some trundle their tools and 
 III 
 
Australian Life 
 
 belongings in wheelbarrows, and one or two have packed 
 their necessaries in a barrel, and fastening the head 
 securely in roll it patiently over the track. These, and 
 the man who is pushing a baby's perambulator, give a 
 touch of comedy to the * rush ' that is making its way to 
 the new find at the * Back of Beyond.' 
 
 But the situation holds all the possibilities of the grim- 
 mest of tragedies. If, as too often happens, these men 
 who tramp so bravely and hopefully across that arid 
 plain are only pursuing a will o' the wisp, a phantom 
 Eldorado that vanishes with its first gleam of golden 
 promise, some of them will never come back. Every 
 one of them knows it, from the youngster who pushes 
 eagerly forward with shining, hopeful eyes, to the stern- 
 lipped veteran, grey with the disappointments and hard- 
 ships of a hundred * rushes.' If they stopped to reckon 
 up the risks, their chance of * pegging out ' a good claim 
 would be a very small one. Therefore the prospector 
 must put dangers behind him, or face them with the 
 pluck and endurance that comes from a brave and hope- 
 ful spirit. 
 
 The whitening bones of camels and horses are not 
 the only objects that serve to remind the traveller 
 on these Western plains that if the rewards offered 
 are great, the risks are great also. Wherever the pro- 
 spector has been there may be found the graves of the 
 pioneers — just a mound of sand, with a rough railing of 
 w^ood, fencing it from the surrounding desert. Some- 
 times a wooden slab or tin plate proclaims the name of 
 the man who rests there, but very often these graves in 
 the wilderness are nameless, because the names of the 
 dead men were not known to the miners who buried them 
 there. Their story they could easily have told, for many 
 of them had been within an ace of enacting it themselves. 
 A too bold incursion into unknown wastes, a dried-up 
 waterhole and an empty water-bag, and then the awful 
 delirium of thirst under a fiery sun. And somewhere on 
 the green Eastern coast a lonely woman waiting for a 
 
 112 
 
O 
 O 
 
 o 
 
 < 
 
 < 
 
-^$4;^^fe:l 
 
 HANNAN STREET, KALGOORLIE, I904. 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 letter that never comes. Every Australian prospector 
 knows that story by heart. 
 
 But let us accompany our Argonauts in their plucky 
 expedition to the rush at * Back of Beyond.' On arrival 
 there they learn the good news that a big reef has cer- 
 tainly been located, and that the prospects for alluvial 
 miners are more than promising. The ground is soon 
 pegged out in all directions, and the * dry blowers ' can be 
 seen at work all over the field, sifting the alluvial soil 
 through sieves which allow the dust and sand to pass but 
 retain the golden nuggets. From somewhere — apparently 
 from the trackless wilderness — a grog-seller has arrived 
 with his barrels and bottles, and is already doing a roar- 
 ing business in a tent which a small hand-written card, 
 pinned on the tent flap, proclaims to be a hotel 
 Another man is distilling clear tasteless water from the 
 salty mixture in the lake, and selling it at half a crown a 
 gallon. The camp has passed from the vague realms of 
 rumour and hearsay into the region of absolute facts. 
 
 Work is going on busily everywhere when the sound 
 of a tin dish beaten with a stick is heard — the call for a 
 * roll-up.' In an instant work is at a standstill, and every 
 occupant of the camp hastens in the direction of the 
 sound, to discover what matter of common interest is to 
 be settled. The cause of the * roll-up ' is soon made 
 known : a miner's tent has been robbed, and his chamois 
 leather bag of nuggets stolen. The victim narrates the 
 circumstances, and explains his reasons for suspecting 
 some other member of the camp. Some of the miners 
 at once seize and search the accused man, while others 
 go to his tent, where the stolen gold is discovered, hidden 
 in the thief s roll of blankets. In five minutes judgment 
 is pronounced — the thief must leave the camp within an 
 hour's time. He must pack his swag and fill his water- 
 bag, and then take his chance upon the track, for they 
 have no use for him or his kind at the * Back of Beyond ' 
 rush. To the credit of the prospector it must be said 
 that the necessity for this rough and ready justice is only 
 113 I 
 
Australian Life 
 
 occasionally felt, for the men who have pluck enough to 
 make their way to these early rushes have too much 
 character to commit any offence so repugnant to the 
 mind of the digger as tent robbery. We w^ill leave ' Back 
 of Beyond ' while its future is still undefined. It may be 
 that beneath its red sands it hides veins of rich ore that 
 will make it another Kalgoorlie j or six months hence 
 there may be nothing but a heap of empty meat tins to 
 show that men had once built golden hopes on the 
 foundation of its barren sands. 
 
 On one of these Western mining camps there occurred 
 a curious mining dispute between capital and labour. 
 Capital in this instance was represented by the local 
 publican, who retailed beer to the thirsty miners at the 
 price of one shilling for a large glass. The miners, of 
 course, enacted the part of labour, and demanded that 
 the price should be reduced by one-half, since gold was 
 becoming scarcer and less easily won. Secure from com- 
 petition, the publican held his ground, and a beer strike 
 was proclaimed by the men. For some weeks the con- 
 flict went on, when the publican, who possessed some 
 political influence, arranged that the Minister of Mines 
 should visit the fields. On the arrival of that dignitary 
 — who came in all innocence — the men held a meeting, 
 and declared an exemption for three days, in order that 
 the event might be celebrated in a fitting manner. It 
 need hardly be said that the exemption was indefinitely 
 prolonged, and that nothing more was heard of the strike. 
 The device of the beer strike, however, has since then 
 been adopted with success in more than one remote 
 Australian township, where humanity is dry and liquor 
 over-expensive. 
 
 Between these newly made mining camps of the day 
 before yesterday and the fifty-year-old golden cities of 
 the Eastern States, the contrast is as striking as anything 
 aflbrded by Australia, the land of contrasts. And yet 
 there is only the history of a generation between them. 
 The sons of the men who made the garden cities of the 
 "4 
 
:^^:d.m^ 
 
 ^^sssis-^ 
 
 DRViiLuWiiNLr WITH TWO DISHES. 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 East are helping to make Kalgoorlie to-day. In time 
 they, too, will cover the scarred earth with a mantle of 
 green, will mend the unsightly wounds, and smooth away 
 the traces of the ugliness they caused in their fierce greed 
 for gold. They will make a pleasant city where life will 
 be well ordered, and where they may rest after their 
 adventures, and enjoy the fruits of their labours. But 
 the adventurous spirit that moved them to leave the 
 sober streets and waving trees of Ballarat, as it moved 
 their fathers to turn their backs on the greener fields of 
 an older land, will not allow their children to sit still 
 while there remains new country to be explored. Ten 
 years ago, the treasures of Kalgoorlie lay hidden and 
 unsuspected ; and Australia is wide enough and little 
 enough known to still hold the secrets of other Ballarats 
 and other Kalgoorlies. 
 
 * In there,' said an old bushman to me once, pointing 
 inland, ' there's all the wealth of the world — diamonds 
 and rubies, gold and opals in plenty. Not half of them 
 will be found in my time, nor yours either. No, nor in 
 the time of our children, and our children's children. 
 That wouldn't do. Australia is the richest country in 
 the world, but it's the driest and most desolate.' 
 
 It is the gold at the foot of the rainbow that supplies 
 the key to the restlessness of Young Australia. 
 
 "5 
 
Australian Life 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 FARM AND FACTORY 
 
 The selector, with his six hundred and forty acres or 
 more of virgin land, is common to the whole of Australia. 
 Year by year he adds a little more to the area of land 
 under cultivation, eking out his existence in the mean- 
 time by a little stock-raising, dairying, poultry-farming, 
 and the like. The uses to which the cleared land is put 
 vary according to the locality and the nature of the soil, 
 for in a country with so remarkable a range of climate 
 as Australia possesses, possibiHties of all kinds exist. 
 Between the Tasmanian gardener — who grows apples for 
 the London markets, small fruits for jam -making, and 
 root vegetables for the warmer States on the mainland 
 — and the Queensland planter — who experiments with 
 cotton, coffee, tobacco, arrowroot, bananas, and other 
 tropical products — there is little that the soil cannot be 
 made to produce. The limited nature of the local market 
 and the position of Australia, precluding until recently the 
 possibility of exporting produce of a perishable kind, 
 have retarded the development of many of these primary 
 industries. The latter difficulty has now been partially 
 overcome, with the result that a fresh stimulus has been 
 given to a number of these special enterprises. 
 
 In every State are wide areas of land suitable for the 
 
 growth of cereals, some of it — and notably the Queensland 
 
 uplands, known as the Darling Downs, and the wheat 
 
 belt of South Australia — requiring little or no clearing. 
 
 ii6 
 
in. Town and Country 
 
 Much of the best wheat land in the south-east of the 
 continent is covered with a growth of mallee (eucalyptus 
 duniosa)^ a shrub growing from ten to fifteen feet in height, 
 and with stems set so closely together that it is impossible 
 for a man to force his way between them. The clearing 
 of this land is accomplished by hitching teams of bullocks 
 or horses to a large tree trunk, and dragging it over the 
 thickets after the fashion of a roller. In this way the 
 mallee is thrown down and uprooted, and the cleared 
 ground is roughly broken with an agricultural implement 
 known as a stump-jumping plough. Land that carries 
 heavier timber must be cleared by the painfully slow 
 process of chopping down each tree, and then * grubbing ' 
 out the stump. The fallen timber is burnt in order to 
 dispose of it, although much of it is of considerable value. 
 
 The yield of the continent for the season of 1902-3 
 was 12,000,000 bushels of wheat, and for 1903-4 
 60,000,000 bushels, showing a difference great enough 
 to warrant the general statement that the Australian 
 wheat grower is at the mercy of a very fickle climate. 
 Sometimes there is so little rain that the seed does not 
 even germinate, or having sprouted is parched or withered 
 without reaching maturity. As soon as the winter rains 
 have made the soil soft enough for the plough the ground 
 is prepared and the seed sown, and the crop is harvested 
 at the end of spring, that is, by Christmas time, at 
 the very latest. Agricultural machinery of all kinds is 
 extensively employed, and one harvesting implement 
 frequently seen is the * stripper,* which plucks the ears 
 from the crop, leaving the straw standing. The ashes 
 obtained by burning off the straw are often the only , 
 fertilisers applied to young ground. 
 
 The supply of agricultural labourers varies according 
 to the season. In a good season the greatest difficulty is 
 experienced in harvesting the crops, owing to the scarcity 
 of labour, but in a bad year hundreds of swagmen may 
 be found walking from farm to farm in search of work. 
 These are not only men who are accustomed to work for 
 117 
 
Australian Life 
 
 wages, for among them may be found numbers of small 
 selectors whose own crops have failed, and who have 
 bravely gone out upon the track in the hope of earning 
 a cheque, and so helping to keep the little home together. 
 The agricultural labourer in steady employment earns 
 from fifteen shilhngs to a pound a week, with board and 
 lodging. There is no Act of Parliament to regulate his 
 hours of labour, which frequently extend from early dawn 
 till long after sunset. When it is considered that the 
 climate is a very trying one, and that the work includes 
 milking, clearing, burning off — a grimy and choking 
 occupation — as well as farm work of all kinds, the con- 
 ditions of his life must be accounted sufficiently hard. 
 They serve to account for the presence in the cities of 
 bands of unemployed clamouring for Government relief 
 works — with pay at the rate of seven shillings for the 
 eight-hour day, while the farmers are unable to obtain 
 sufficient labour. The uncertainty and irregularity of 
 agricultural employment — which I trust I have sufficiently 
 emphasised — and the superior attractions of city life must 
 also be considered when seeking to account for this state 
 of affairs. 
 
 When a few more decades have passed, the writer of 
 such a book as this will probably find it necessary to 
 devote a chapter to life on the Australian vineyards. On 
 the sunny slopes of the warmer temperate areas the 
 vig7iero7i finds a soil and climate admirably suited to 
 the production of wine of a very high quality. Among 
 the pioneer vignerons were many French and German 
 settlers, who have made their picturesque un-Australian 
 homes amid the most pleasant surroundings to be found 
 in all the continent. From the broad, vine-covered, brick- 
 paved verandah of such a house may be obtained the 
 pleasing prospect of a green vineyard, framed in a setting 
 of dark bush-clad hills. The vineyard, with its long 
 orderly lines of vines, each plant standarded and tied to 
 its own stake, is in marked contrast to the general air of. 
 untidiness that prevails in the ordinary bush settlement. 
 
 ii8 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 Its immediate effects are the surprising quality and cheap- 
 ness of table grapes in the cities, and a growing disposition 
 among Australians to substitute wine of local growth for 
 beer and spirits, and so to conform further to the climatic 
 conditions in which they live. 
 
 Licences for the sale of Australian wine are not costly, 
 and the wineshop has long been a feature of the city streets. 
 Unfortunately for the home reputation of the Australian 
 wines, the management of these establishments has too 
 often been faulty, and the method of conducting business, 
 as well as the quality of the wine sold, has been a cause 
 of reproach. In this respect amendment has recently 
 taken place, and it is now possible to obtain a glass of 
 good Australian wine at a very moderate price, and to 
 drink it amid surroundings holding nothing to offend the 
 most fastidious taste. Some of the heavier Australian 
 wines have also found their way into England, where a 
 yearly increasing demand is found for them. The industry 
 is better suited to the Australian climate, perhaps, than 
 the growth of some cereals, and is attracting a very 
 intelligent class of men who receive the assistance of 
 Government experts in dealing with the peculiarities of 
 soil and climate encountered. 
 
 As already hinted, the difficulty of the man on the 
 land is not the growth but the disposal of certain kinds 
 of produce. I remember dining in Melbourne once and 
 enjoying some canned apricots which came, as I learned 
 on asking, from America. Three days later I was assist- 
 ing to destroy an orchard of apricot trees two acres in 
 extent, their owner having decided to replace them with 
 orange and lemon trees. The trees were in their prime, 
 and had never failed to yield good crops of first-class 
 fruit. But the grower, who was a practical man, had 
 found that they afforded but an insignificant cash return, 
 while an adjacent area under fruit trees of the citrus order 
 gave handsome profits. The reason, he declared, lay in 
 his distance from the State capital and the rapidity with 
 which soft fruit spoiled in the hot summer. These are 
 119 
 
Australian Life 
 
 difficulties that will be obviated with the further settle- 
 ment and development of the country, but in the mean- 
 time they scarcely serve to explain why Australia, with 
 its remarkable capacity for growing fruits of all kinds, 
 should be an importer instead of an exporter of dried 
 and preserved fruits. 
 
 This is but one example of many industries that are 
 languishing, although possessing possibilities that have 
 been proved beyond any question. The future of many 
 of them — and especially those of Northern Australia — is 
 inextricably involved with the question of coloured labour, 
 against the employment of which Australia has definitely 
 decided, at least for the present. The experiment, de- 
 scribed in another chapter, of deporting the Kanaka 
 labourers fr^m the sugar fields, and substituting white 
 labourers in their place, will be watched with the keenest 
 interest throughout Australia. Should it succeed, it will 
 be argued that cotton and other products can be culti- 
 vated without the coolie labour for want of which, accord- 
 ing to the advocates of coloured labour, these industries 
 are at present neglected. 
 
 There are other possibilities, however, which long 
 ago commended themselves to the notice of Australian 
 politicians. The position assigned to the Colonies in 
 the present scheme of the British Empire would appear 
 to be that of producers of raw material, and consumers 
 of the manufactured articles of the Motherland. Pro- 
 posals for strengthening the links of Empire on the basis 
 of trade are founded on these relations, and, without 
 the principle having been accepted, have encountered 
 obstacles arising from the unwillingness of the Colonies 
 to accept the minor part thus assigned to them. If the 
 use of the word * colony ' implies a place entirely given 
 up to the primary industries, then ' Once a colony, always 
 a colony' is an axiom that must not be too readily 
 accepted. If the United States of America were still 
 an integral part of the British Empire, it would hardly 
 be possible to refer to them in their present stage of 
 
 I20 
 

in Town and Country 
 
 development as *our American colonies.' It is quite 
 certain that Australia looks forward to the day when 
 certain of its raw materials, such as wool and leather, 
 will be manufactured in Austrahan factories. With this 
 end in view, quite early in the history of responsible 
 government in Australia, some of the States began by 
 imposing customs duties designed to protect local in- 
 dustries, and the present Commonwealth Tariff, while 
 framed partly for revenue purposes, is also in some 
 measure a protective tariff. 
 
 The industries created and fostered in this way have 
 had to contend with difficulties arising from a want of 
 uniformity in the tariffs of the different States, and from 
 the tariff war the States waged against one another before 
 the Federal era. Their expansion has been more definitely 
 affected by the determination of the Labour party to 
 preserve the favourable conditions under which the city 
 worker exists. The industrial legislation of Australia 
 is designed to maintain high wages and short hours of 
 labour, and under these conditions it is possible that 
 the amount of protection afforded by the present tariff 
 does not give the manufacturer sufficient encouragement. 
 In any case, the dictum of Mr. Coghlan, the leading 
 authority upon Australian statistics, is that * the progress 
 of the manufacturing industry in Australasia has been 
 very irregular, even in the most advanced States.' 
 
 The broad principles of Australian industrial legislation 
 — for the details vary in the different States — are extremely 
 favourable to the worker. Short hours are secured by 
 the provision of an eight-hour day in workshops and 
 factories, and by Acts insisting on the early closing of 
 shops, and the observance of a w^eekly half-holiday. 
 The rate of wages is maintained either by a Factories 
 Act, which provides for the establishment of boards to 
 fix a minimum wage for each class of labour, or of 
 Arbitration and Conciliation Acts, designed to settle 
 disputes between capital and labour. An instance of 
 the working of the Arbitration Act in force in New 
 
 121 
 
Australian Life 
 
 South Wales may be of interest. The men engaged in 
 the coal mines at Newcastle and in the neighbourhood 
 of that city, some four thousand in number, had a difference 
 with the mine-owners on the subject of the rates for 
 hewing coal. By common consent the dispute was re- 
 ferred to the Arbitration Court, and in this case the 
 decision of the Court was favourable to the masters 
 rather than the men. Most of the men went on with 
 their work without interruption, but in one mine t was 
 decided to defy the Court and cease work. The mine- 
 owner then appealed to the Court to enforce its decision, 
 and found that it was powerless to do so, although the 
 owner might have been heavily fined had he refused to 
 obey the ruling given. Proceedings were then taken 
 to punish the men in another Court, but in the mean- 
 time, chilled by the open disapproval of their fellows 
 elsewhere, they retreated from their position and resumed 
 work. 
 
 These Arbitration Courts are gradually establishing 
 definite rates of pay in most employments, and further 
 legislation provides that these rates shall not be lowered 
 by the introduction of cheaper labour from outside. The 
 Immigration Act of the Commonwealth Parliament, for 
 instance, provides for the exclusion of coloured labour, 
 and of contract labourers as well. Attention was drawn 
 to this by the notorious case of six hatters, who were 
 subjected to the interrogation of the authorities before 
 being allowed to enter Australia. It was made clear at 
 the time that it was possible for white British subjects 
 to be excluded from the Commonwealth if they entered 
 into a contract with their employers before reaching 
 Australia, and the fact was eagerly seized and used as 
 a basis of attack upon the Government responsible for 
 such legislation. The wrongs of the six hatters were 
 discussed in both the English and the Australian Press, 
 and inspired many a spirited Opposition assault in the 
 Commonwealth Parliament. 
 
 Meanwhile, the six hatters themselves had settled 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 down comfortably in Sydney, and proved in due time 
 that, once having obtained admission into Australia, 
 they were fully contented with its industrial legislation. 
 The occasion occurred at the general election of 1903, 
 when Mr. G. R. Reid, the Opposition leader, contested 
 the seat of East Sydney. Mr. Reid had made full use 
 of the six hatters episode throughout the session of 
 Parliament, and by a curious coincidence he found the six 
 dwelling in his own constituency. Moreover, they were 
 all on the committee of the Labour candidate who 
 opposed Mr. Reid, and who was heart and soul in favour 
 of the legislation by which they might easily have been 
 excluded from Australia. This conclusion to a much- 
 discussed episode is recounted as affording proof of the 
 one certain result of the experimental legislation now 
 on its trial in Australia. The workman, at any rate, is 
 reasonably contented with it, as, indeed, he has every 
 reason to be. 
 
 It is never safe, however, to argue ci priori about 
 Australian affairs. The statistician who predicted an 
 Australian population of 5,678,000 for the year 1901 
 had no prevision of the ten years of stagnation that 
 almost immediately followed his prophecy. The return 
 of normal and favourable climatic conditions will afford 
 the observer a better chance of determining whether the 
 country can support manufactures hampered, as far as 
 outside competition is concerned, by industrial legislation 
 so favourable to the workers. 
 
 A more immediate issue may be found in the policy, 
 now being initiated by the Government, of attracting 
 population to the vacant lands of Australia. This policy 
 implies the throwing open of areas of land suitable, by 
 reason of soil and climate, for immediate settlement ; the 
 opening up of fresh markets for Australian produce in 
 other parts of the Empire and in foreign countries ; and 
 a larger measure of encouragement to the man upon 
 the land. It further implies the construction of railways 
 designed, not for the benefit of one capital city, but for 
 
 123 
 
Australian Life 
 
 the utmost development of the districts through which 
 they pass ; it involves the conservation of the invaluable 
 water that now runs to waste ; and it points to the stern 
 discouragement of the professional unemployed of the 
 Australian cities. It reads like a broad national policy, 
 born of recognition of errors in the past, and consistent 
 with the national ideals of which so much was heard 
 during the first few days of the present century. It is 
 a case of farm versus factory, and the present trend of 
 Australian opinion seems to be strongly in favour of farm 
 first, and factory afterwards. 
 
 124 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE AUSTRALIAN WOMAN 
 
 The ups and downs of Australian life have forced upon 
 the Australian woman very many different parts in life. 
 Fifty years ago, upon the goldfields at least, woman 
 occupied the position which Mr. Bret Harte so aptly 
 pictured in his stories of the Pacific Slope. The few 
 women upon the goldfields were made the objects of a 
 chivalrous admiration that was not without its humorous 
 side. I have often heard a lady — she is a very old lady 
 now — describe her first appearance in one of the more 
 prosperous mining camps. As she walked from the 
 coach to her husband's tent, her uplifted skirts displaying 
 a stout pair of WelHngton boots prudently worn as some 
 protection against the slough of mud and clay through 
 which she had to struggle, the camp resounded with 
 cries of 'Jo, Jo,' and ten thousand jolly miners threw 
 down picks and dishes to gaze at the novel sight of a 
 woman. For months she was the heroine of that out of 
 the way camp, the miners resorting to all sorts of novel 
 expedients to procure her some delicacy or comfort, 
 which was tactfully offered as a tribute to her femininity. 
 The ideals of those good days are fortunately not 
 dead, but the conditions of Australian life are variable in 
 the extreme, and the position of woman in the Australian 
 cosmos has varied with them. In the flood-tide of 
 prosperity the Australian showed a tendency to treat his 
 womankind as the American is said to treat his : to 
 125 
 
Australian Life 
 
 isolate them from every care of business and even of 
 household management. The Australian woman had 
 good times then, but not at the expense of her home life, 
 and she showed in the crash that followed that she 
 possessed the resourcefulness and courage which are 
 marks of the Australian character. Australians have good 
 reason to be proud of the manner in which many of 
 their women, born and educated amidst surroundings of 
 comfort and luxury, set to work at a moment's notice, 
 when, by an unexpected turn of fortune's wheel, their 
 fathers and husbands were stripped of their wealth and 
 hampered by a very general business depression through- 
 out Australia. 
 
 Visitors to Australia have been unanimous in recording 
 the marked difference in type of the Australian woman, 
 for she has adapted herself more readily to the changed 
 conditions of life and climate than the Australian man. 
 Her dress, although following the standard of fashion 
 imposed upon her by Parisian and London authority, is 
 modified so as to suit the bright light and cloudless blue 
 skies of her surroundings. Nothing is more charming 
 on an Australian holiday than the cheerful effect of the 
 bright but cool and appropriate dresses of the daughters 
 of the people. In the clear sunlight and against the 
 sombre foliage of the trees and shrubs it becomes at 
 once apparent that the genius of the Australian woman 
 has solved the question of dress, while the halting instinct 
 of man is only beginning to rebel against the conventions 
 imposed upon him by his Old-World ancestors. The 
 same genius is shown by the w^oman in the management 
 of her house ; if allowed her own way the furnisliings are 
 designed for coolness and airiness, no trouble is spared 
 during the glaring daytime to expel the light and the 
 flies, and her own regimen of diet is rapidly approaching 
 that which is natural and healthful in such a climate. It 
 is the Australian custom that pleasure shall mainly be 
 taken out of doors, and to this rule the Australian 
 woman has not been slow to conform. But there has 
 
 126 
 
r 
 
 h4- 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 never been any craze for undue athleticism among the 
 Australian girls, many of whom learn to swim and to 
 ride as a matter of course, leaving the more competitive 
 pastimes to their brothers. It is true that there have 
 been teams of lady cricketers, who enlivened the rather 
 dull life of their rival country townships by matches 
 which attracted considerable attention. The fact that 
 the attention was attracted proves that the incident was 
 a rare one, and up to the present the Australian girl has 
 been content with those pastimes, such as tennis and 
 golf, which have always been considered womanly. But 
 she revels in the less active open-air entertainment pro- 
 vided by picnics, garden parties, boating excursions, and 
 open-air concerts, and the frequency of these gives to her 
 intercourse with the other sex a frankness and freedom 
 from restraint which is one of her special charms. The 
 camaraderie between the sexes and the free use of 
 Christian names are at first disconcerting to the new 
 arrival, who may be apt to misconstrue the free-and-easi- 
 ness of the Australian girl and to be snubbed accordingly. 
 Among the troubles of the household life in Australia 
 the servant difficulty is not the least, and this presses 
 most heavily upon the woman. The best servants 
 obtainable are those from the bush, who, although rough 
 diamonds at the outset, have the qualities of diligence, 
 quickness, and extreme good nature. They have also 
 the Australian characteristic of independence in a marked 
 degree, and the national love of holiday making and 
 celebrating anniversaries. Every housewife in Australia 
 is familiar with the sinking sensation experienced on 
 learning that * her treasure,' carefully trained through 
 twelve months of awkwardness or ignorance to something 
 like aptitude, intends to take a holiday from Christmas 
 Eve to New Year's Day. Remonstrance is useless. ' My 
 mother wants me at home,' is the only explanation 
 vouchsafed of this base desertion, and there is nothing 
 for it but to submit. The best way out of the difficulty 
 is that frequently followed in Australia. The Christmas 
 127 
 
Australian Life 
 
 season is chosen for the annual holiday to the seaside or 
 into the country, and the home is locked up for the 
 occasion. Thus Mary Jane is allowed to enjoy her 
 Christmas at home, and repays by a patient and good- 
 tempered service and a willingness for work of all kinds 
 which could not be demanded from the highly trained 
 British domestic. 
 
 The critics of the Australian woman — and there have 
 been many — have complained that she both walks and 
 talks badly. For the first charge there would seem to be 
 less foundation than for the second^ for although the 
 ordinary observer would fail to notice any lack of grace 
 in the carriage of the women in the cities, the presence 
 of an accent is too obvious to be overlooked. The 
 theory that the hardening and distorting of vowel sounds 
 so common in Australia can be traced to the State 
 schools has been advanced. Those who support this 
 contention point to the large classes common in these 
 establishments, and to the monotonous repetitions in 
 chorus that constitute part of the system of teaching. 
 If this theory be a correct one, the system cannot be 
 amended too quickly, for the accent itself is a sad draw- 
 back to the pleasure afforded by the clear and musical 
 voice that is a characteristic of the Australian woman. 
 
 A more serious matter is the decline of the x\ustralian 
 birth-rate, noticeable during the latter part of the nine- 
 teenth century, pointing as it does to a corresponding 
 decline in the physical or moral fibre of the Australian 
 woman. Mr. Coghlan, the statistician whose paper upon 
 the subject first called public attention to this develop- 
 ment of Australian life, decided as a result of his early 
 investigations that Australian-born women do not bear 
 so many children as the European women who emigrate 
 to Australia. Fuller inquiry, however, convinced him 
 that in this conclusion he had been mistaken. The 
 decline of the birth-rate is more intimately connected 
 with the rapid growth of the capital cities, where the 
 conditions of life approximate more closely to those of 
 
 128 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 the Old World. Mr. Coghlan's carefully reasoned paper 
 upon the subject has resulted in the appointment of a 
 commission, empowered to inquire fully into all the 
 circumstances affecting this phase of Australian life. 
 
 Among the most prominent characteristics of the 
 Australian woman is her talent for music, amounting in 
 many instances to positive genius. This statement is 
 not made merely because Australia has given to the world 
 singers who, like Madame Melba, unite the highest 
 artistic instinct with the most remarkable natural gifts, 
 and have so become famous. It is rather because, go 
 where you will in Australia, you will hear good voices, 
 used with instinctive art, and instruments played, even 
 where skilled instruction is lacking, with sympathetic and 
 just perception of the meaning of the music. From the 
 singing of the church choir in the little back blocks town- 
 ship to the concert given by the pupils of the musical 
 conservatorium of the capital, there is everywhere abun- 
 dant evidence that Australians have not only a true love 
 for music, but the gift of musical expression. The eager- 
 ness in grasping any means of improved cultivation and 
 knowledge is proof of this, as well as the enthusiasm with 
 which skilled performers are welcomed and heard. Music 
 is the one art that has received genuine and notable 
 encouragement in Australia. 
 
 The Australian woman who earns her own living has 
 had to encounter less prejudice and opposition than has 
 been the case elsewhere. In the professional class 
 women have come rapidly to the front, and women 
 doctors, dentists, and lecturers are matters of everyday 
 existence, being accepted as readily as their male counter- 
 parts. One Australian capital possesses a lady, who, 
 having developed marked business ability as a house and 
 land agent, applied for and obtained an auctioneer's 
 licence. Her sales are conducted with a promptness 
 and readiness of which any male auctioneer might well 
 be proud, and her repartees to interrupters at the outset 
 of her career were peculiarly crushing. In the financial 
 
 129 K 
 
Australian Life 
 
 crisis following the period of over-speculation in land, 
 there were many examples of young ladies who devised 
 novel and useful methods of replacing vanished incomes. 
 One result of that episode in Australian history is the air 
 of pleasant refinement that distinguishes the Australian 
 tea-room from similar establishments elsewhere. 
 
 The condition of the working women of the poorer 
 classes, unfortunately, leaves much to be desired. In some 
 employments they have reaped the benefits of the organi- 
 sation and political power wielded by men, but in other 
 of the avocations peculiar to the working woman alone, 
 their position is not as advanced as that of the Australian 
 worker generally. The sweater exists in Australia as 
 elsewhere, and finds his victims, as elsewhere, among 
 those who are poorest and least able to protect themselves. 
 
 This state of affairs may possibly be remedied by the 
 exercise of the franchise now conferred upon the Austra- 
 lian woman. The woman voter is, of course, no new 
 thing in Australasia, for both in New Zealand and South 
 Australia the women have for some years held equal 
 electoral privileges with the men. But the granting of 
 the Commonwealth franchise to the Australian woman 
 was an experiment on a much larger scale, and has 
 resulted in some developments of a most interesting 
 nature. It has been found that the women voters out- 
 numbered the men in the Commonwealth, although the 
 majority of women is not a very large one. The female 
 vote is, therefore, a very important consideration for the 
 politician, who is alive to the experience already gained 
 of its effect in New Zealand. In that Colony it has been 
 found that the one political question of absorbing interest 
 to the feminine mind is the regulation and control of the 
 traffic in intoxicating liquors. It is significant that with 
 the approach of the first general election at which the 
 female franchise was exercised, those interested in this 
 trade formed associations designed for meeting the would- 
 be reformers halfway, and for improving the conditions 
 under which intoxicants are sold in Australia. 
 
 130 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 The franchise itself was received by the women with a 
 due sense of the importance of the gift. The more 
 advanced formed poHtical associations, devised an elec- 
 tion programme, and actually nominated female candi- 
 dates for positions in the Australian Senate. There are 
 also associations of ladies who hold that the time for 
 female representation is not yet ripe, although taking 
 an active and intelHgent interest in current political 
 topics. Frequent meetings were organised, at which 
 addresses of an explanatory nature were given by 
 leading public men, with the view to educating their 
 hearers upon the unfamiliar topic of politics. Three 
 ladies allowed themselves to be nominated for seats in 
 the Australian Senate, but none of them were successful, 
 the polling disclosing the curious fact that they obtained 
 more support from male voters than from those of their 
 own sex. The result of this first election at which the 
 female suffrage was exercised throughout Australia 
 afforded little justification for the fears entertained by those 
 who opposed the granting of the female suffrage. For the 
 present the Australian woman is content to be guided in the 
 main by the political opinions of her husband or brother. 
 
 It is one of the accepted doctrines of the Australian 
 bushman that ' the bush is no place for a woman,' but it 
 frequently happens that the same bushman marries and 
 settles down to make a home in the bush. The settler's 
 life presses more hardly upon the woman than the man, 
 with the result that the first impression gained of the 
 women of the bush is one of sallow complexions deprived 
 of all their freshness by the burning sun, and of worn 
 faces marked with premature lines by care and waiting. 
 More lasting, however, is the remembrance of their simple 
 goodwill and kindly hospitality to strangers, their mutual 
 helpfulness at all times, and their courage and resource- 
 fulness in the desperate expedients to which they are 
 sometimes turned by the loneliness and isolation of bush 
 life. Every little settlement has its tale of feminine 
 heroism, only told, and then quite as a matter of course. 
 
Australian Life 
 
 in response to the most persistent questioning. The 
 story of the woman who maintains and keeps together 
 the little bush home when necessity forces the man to 
 seek employment somewhere in the wide emptiness of 
 pastoral Australia, is but an everyday incident, for there 
 is no finer thing in all Australia than the noble, self- 
 denying lives of many of these bush women. 
 
 The bush affords many instances of women who, under 
 stress of circumstances, have played strange parts in life. 
 There are authenticated accounts of women tramping the 
 country in male attire, carrying their swags and turning 
 their hands to all the varied employments required of the 
 handy-man of the bush. It is not many years ago since 
 there died a woman known on the Australian roads as 
 * Bullocky Mary.' In short skirt and heavy boots, with 
 a man's felt hat upon her head, this Amazon used to 
 drive her team of bullocks through the country, lashing 
 them with her long whip and a vocabulary of the most 
 effective description. The spectacle of husband and 
 wife mining together is by no means an uncommon one, 
 the man working below in the mine, while the woman 
 turns the windlass which lifts the debris from the shaft. 
 Australian race-courses have known at least one woman 
 who trained her own race-horse, and more than one 
 woman who plied the calling of a book-maker. 
 
 This aspect of feminine life is fortunately growing more 
 uncommon as time goes on, and it is easily possible to 
 discern the true place of the Australian woman by look- 
 ing in exactly the opposite direction. The proportion of 
 female students at the Australian Universities is steadily 
 increasing, and it appears from the reports of these 
 institutions that woman is less apt than man to regard 
 higher education as merely a means to an end. Many 
 of the women's clubs have a literary and an artistic basis, 
 and it seems very probable that the Australian woman 
 will play an important part in preserving the race from 
 the commercialism which is at present so noticeable 
 among the men of the cities. 
 
 132 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 HOME AND SOCIAL LIFE 
 
 The complaint that the AustraHans are abandoning the 
 pleasant home life of their fathers is not unfrequently 
 heard from the older generation in Australia, and espe- 
 cially from those of British birth. The rigorous British 
 winter, that casts a halo of attraction around the family 
 circle gathered about the fire-side, has no place in the 
 experience of young Australia. Inclination conduces to 
 less time being spent indoors and more in the open air. 
 For the greater part of the year the beaches, parks, and 
 streets of the cities are thronged in the evenings with 
 promenaders, chatting and laughing gaily in the enjoy- 
 ment of the pleasant coolness that comes after sunset. 
 It may be possible that the intimacy of family life is 
 weakened by this devotion to outdoor recreation, but it 
 is not easy to discern any marked difference between the 
 home life of the Australians of the cities and that of 
 people in a similar sphere of life in Great Britain. 
 
 In the bush, however, the absence of any attempt to 
 make home attractive is readily noticeable. The primi- 
 tive discomfort that was unavoidable during the early 
 pioneer work of the settler often clings to his habitation 
 when the necessity for it has ceased to exist. The 
 endurance of inconveniences and makeshifts becomes a 
 habit, and money that might well be spent on home 
 comforts and necessities is laid out on improvements to 
 the land, or saved against the bad times for which the 
 133 
 
Australian Life 
 
 people of the bush are prepared by the uncertain con- 
 ditions of their life. Brought up amid these surroundings, 
 the younger generation has learned the lesson of doing 
 without things, and perpetuated the custom. The un- 
 loveliness of the bush house, its unfinished aspect, and 
 its want of any homelike appearance are only too notice- 
 able. The crowded capital cities are a standing proof of 
 the distaste of the people for life on the land, and there 
 can be no doubt that at present it is rendered more 
 unattractive for the younger folk by the extent to which 
 comfort and convenience are subordinated. 
 
 As a rule, the Australian is content with three meals a 
 day, and has meat at every meal. The working man will 
 breakfast on chops or steak, and at midday, if unable to 
 go home, may patronise a restaurant, where a plentiful 
 dinner costs him sixpence. At six o'clock he has a sub- 
 stantial tea, with cold or hot meat, and he very wisely 
 dispenses with supper. At every meal he probably drinks 
 two or three large cups of tea, and appears little worse 
 for it. London clerks and employees in business houses 
 usually take a cup of tea between four and five in the 
 afternoon_, and sup in the evening. In Australia city 
 workers lunch in the middle of the day, and are able to 
 reach their homes in time for a dinner at six o'clock, so 
 that they have little time or inclination for the afternoon 
 break. The professional and upper middle classes dine 
 a little later, as a rule, and the cup of afternoon tea may 
 or may not be taken ; but in x\ustralia afternoon tea is 
 recognised as more exclusively a feminine privilege. 
 
 The large amount of meat eaten by the Australians is 
 due, in a great measure, to the cheapness of that com- 
 modity. Statistics are rarely interesting, but it is surpris- 
 ing to learn that each Australian consumes 264 lb. of 
 meat annually, as against 109 lb. eaten by the average 
 Briton, and 77 lb. by the Frenchman. During recent 
 years, however, there is a noticeable tendency among 
 Australians to eat less meat, and more of the abundant 
 fresh fruit. Most Australian doctors advise a breakfast 
 
 134 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 of fruit, followed by toast and coffee, in the place of 
 the meat and tea of the old Australian regime^ as 
 being more in keeping with the Australian climate. In 
 the cities this advice begins to be followed, but the bush 
 remains faithful to the fried chops and steaks which have 
 always constituted its staple fare. The monotony of this 
 meat diet cannot fail to impress itself upon any one who 
 has been called upon to endure it for long, and is all the 
 more remarkable because so many circumstances exist 
 in Australia favourable to its inexpensive variation. 
 
 If blazing fires and draught-proof rooms are not 
 essential to the comfort of the Australian home, it is at 
 least necessary to resort to expedients to counteract the 
 effect of the burning summer suns. Many Australian 
 houses have their roofs coated with white paint, because 
 that colour attracts the rays of the sunlight least readily, 
 and are screened on all sides with thick roller blinds 
 made of strips of bamboo. Devices for excluding dust 
 and flies, while admitting the cool evening air, are 
 generally used, and in the middle and northern parts of 
 Australia, beds are customarily furnished with mosquito 
 nettings. In a well-appointed Australian house, an ice- 
 chest is a necessity rather than a luxury, for in this way 
 only can the drinking water be kept cool and the butter 
 set upon the table in a state of solidity. The ice-cart 
 goes from door to door as regularly as the milk-cart 
 throughout almost the whole of the year. Finally, the 
 Australian of the cities does not consider a house fit for 
 human habitation unless it contains a bathroom with 
 shower-bath, and this statement holds good with every 
 class of Australian society. 
 
 With these modifications, the Australian continues to 
 cherish the home ideals just as the Briton does his. It 
 is an airier home, not so crowded with cherished pieces 
 of furniture, and not so much regarded as a refuge from 
 the rigours of the world outside. It is a home of open 
 doors and windows, with a wide verandah, where indoor 
 life meets the open-air existence on terms of happy 
 
 135 
 
Australian Life 
 
 compromise. By imperceptible degrees the Australian 
 home is adjusting itself to the Australian climate. 
 
 The belief in the absence of class distinctions in 
 Australia is cherished by the masses in the face of an 
 existing class. But the man who rises from the masses 
 is quickly made aware of an exclusive circle of people 
 *in society,' and of the efforts made to reserve such 
 privileges as this circle may enjoy. Australian society 
 and the struggle made to maintain class distinctions have 
 furnished the theme for many satires. It is, indeed, 
 easier to ridicule than to adequately describe the basis 
 of Australian society. Let it be premised that the most 
 important, if not the most exclusive, social entertainments 
 are those offered by the Australian Governors in their 
 capacity as representatives of the Crown. At such enter- 
 tainments the most prominent people are those who have 
 made their way to the front in politics, professional life, 
 commerce, or pastoral pursuits. Many of them, by their 
 education and upbringing, or by their natural qualities, 
 are well fitted to adorn any society ; but there are some 
 of whom it may be said, without any unkindness, that 
 they are quite at their worst in the atmosphere of the 
 court and ballroom. 
 
 The social duties of an Australian Governor are 
 obviously of a very exacting nature, since in his hands is 
 placed the task of reconciling the claims of so many 
 social aspirants, and of keeping Government House free 
 from the invasions of enterprising people, whom those 
 already within the pale would consider impossible. The 
 newly arrived Governor accordingly provides a book in 
 which callers may write their names and addresses, and 
 from this book is compiled the list of those who are sub- 
 sequently entertained by the vice-royalty. I do not 
 profess any ability to indicate the lines upon which the 
 selection is made, but it is no secret that the path of the 
 Australian Governor who has not a well-posted secretary 
 and a staff of tactful aides-de-camp is by no means a 
 pleasant one. These Government House entertainments 
 136 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 are interesting. The central figure is that of a tactful 
 and courteous gentleman, who, with the assistance of an 
 altogether charming wife, and a band of bored-looking 
 aides^ is cordially receiving an immense number of guests, 
 some of whom regard his hospitality as a right. As they 
 arrive, the guests fall naturally into sets : the political 
 set, including a number of the higher officials ; the land- 
 owning set, descended from the Australian wool-kings ; 
 the professional and military set, including many worthy 
 gentlemen in expensive military uniforms; the newly 
 moneyed set, casting a suspicious eye upon the latest 
 recruits to their ranks. There is, in addition, a large 
 number of pleasant people who have come for the sole 
 purpose of enjoying themselves, and set about doing so 
 very naturally and thoroughly. 
 
 There is, further, an inner circle of Australian society, 
 whose doings are chronicled with great exactness and 
 intimacy by the society papers. For obvious reasons no 
 attempt is made at a rigid definition of this circle of * the 
 very nicest,' for that would defeat the end for which the 
 society paper exists. One gathers that its ideals are 
 drawn from high life elsewhere, and that a close acquaint- 
 ance is maintained with the latest movements and customs 
 of the best English society. It may be urged, with some 
 truth, that no better model could be taken, but it has 
 resulted, rather unfortunately, in the permanent transfer 
 to England of some of the people and much of the 
 money that Australia can ill spare. 
 
 There are, naturally, thousands of refined and well-bred 
 people for whom neither the exclusiveness of this circle 
 of * the very nicest,' nor the entry to Government House 
 and the social cachet it is supposed to give, has any 
 special attraction. To outline their social life would be 
 but to describe the ordinary existence of the educated 
 Anglo-Saxon middle class everywhere. Formalities and 
 conventions may be slightly modified, but they are by no 
 means dispensed with entirely. 
 
 In this respect the lot of those in the lower grades of 
 137 
 
Australian Life 
 
 the official class, and of the ordinary clerk, is perhaps less 
 to be envied than that of any other class in Australian 
 society. The incidence of the Australian protective 
 tariff and the high scale of professional fees of all kinds 
 make any attempt at keeping up appearance one long 
 struggle. The working man, who is more highly paid 
 than the clerk and the subordinate public servant, is 
 much better off, and by frankly disregarding the dis- 
 tinctions these others must observe he can obtain a far 
 greater share of the desirable things of Australian life. 
 Owing to the heavy protective duty on clothing of all 
 kinds, the clerk and the shop-assistant are, in proportion 
 to their earnings, the most heavily taxed classes in the 
 whole Australian community, although the higher rates 
 of remuneration obtained in other employment do not 
 hold in these occupations. 
 
 As for the working man, he is little troubled by social 
 distinctions of any kind. His relations with his employer 
 do not call for any show of deference, his political re- 
 presentatives see that his necessities shall not contribute 
 too largely to the revenue, and his main concerns are 
 family affairs, politics, and sports. His interest in 
 politics occasionally brings him into touch with the 
 movements of * society,' after a fashion that rouses a 
 curious resentment in him. It will be difficult for any 
 one who has never lived in Australia to understand how 
 keenly the people dislike the acceptance by one of their 
 popular politicians of the knighthood and decoration 
 sometimes proffered as an honour by the Imperial 
 Government. The Australian politician who refuses 
 such honours renews the trust of the people in himself, 
 and incidentally deprives his wife of an attribute of no 
 mean value in society. The covert antipathy that exists 
 between masses and classes is illustrated by this society 
 approval of what the people condemns. The reasoned 
 objection to the bestowal of titles upon Australians is 
 that it is at once unnecessary and anti-Australian, and 
 the most national in spirit of all Australian papers wrote 
 
 X38 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 seriously of it that * Australia took up the Cross of the 
 Order of St. Michael and St. George on its shoulders to 
 march towards the crucifixion of its national life.' It 
 should be borne in mind that the whole of the resentment 
 excited by the bestowal of these honours is directed 
 against the recipients, and that the offer of them is 
 recognised in the spirit in which it is made. 
 
 Clubs in Australia are few, but, as a rule, they are very 
 good. Each of the capital cities possesses at least one 
 club managed on lines as constitutionally exclusive as 
 any that London can boast. An extreme conservatism 
 is one of the products of the ferment of an ultra- 
 democratic community^ and in his clubs the Australian 
 Conservative finds a congenial atmosphere free from the 
 Radicalism that disturbs him everywhere else. Their 
 membership is almost exclusively confined to the 
 squatters, mine owners, and property owners, who find 
 themselves, by sheer force of circumstances, in direct 
 opposition to the Socialistic spirit that pervades the 
 working classes. Other clubs are founded on an artistic 
 or literary basis, but the average Australian, who cannot 
 be considered a club man in the English sense of the 
 word, is usually content with his suburban club, with 
 its tennis-lawns, bowling-greens, and modest card and 
 billiard-rooms. Throughout Australia, the sporting and 
 recreation club flourishes exceedingly, but the political 
 club, so dear to the British tradesman and artisan, is 
 an unknown thing. Its place, however, is more than 
 taken by such organisations as the Australian Natives' 
 Association, some account of which is given in another 
 chapter. 
 
 The social life of the bush, based on the general 
 foundation of comradeship and mutual helpfulness, is 
 grandly simple in principle. Men undertake for one 
 another obligations not recognised in other communities, 
 and rely upon one another in a spirit of trust that is 
 marvellously justified. By this rule of the bush, the 
 population of a whole district sets itself to scour the 
 
 139 
 
Australian Life 
 
 country for days in search of a lost child, and the same 
 rule makes it possible for a bushman to travel on foot 
 throughout Australia without a shilling in his pocket. 
 Life in the bush is hard and monotonous, and sometimes 
 breeds bitter, senseless feuds and stupid misunderstand- 
 ings. But in time of trouble or loss, fancied slights and 
 ancient grudges are forgotten, and the sufferer experiences 
 only the full and practical sympathy of his neighbours. 
 The traditional hospitality of Australia is the hospitality 
 of the bush, extended without a second thought to 
 acquaintance and stranger alike, and accepted in the 
 same unquestioning spirit. 'I have ridden,' writes Sir 
 Gilbert Parker, ' to a plantation late at night, turned my 
 horse into the horse paddock, entered the house, struck 
 a match, found a sofa, laid down, and waked in the 
 morning to find life bustling about me, my breakfast 
 ready on the table, and I an utter stranger ! . . . They 
 appreciated the desire on my part not to disturb their 
 rest, and they apologised for the hardness of the 
 sofa.' 
 
 The social code of the bush is summed up by Mr. 
 Henry Lawson in one brief sentence : * Drunk or sober, 
 mad or sane, good or bad, it isn't bush religion to desert 
 a mate in a hole.' And among all bushmen there is an 
 acknowledged mateship. 
 
 City and bush meet in the country townships, where 
 neither shows to any great advantage. To begin with, 
 the township, whether new or old, is invariably unlovely. 
 A wide street of straggHng, iron-roofed houses, a hotel 
 or two and a few stores, at least two churches and a 
 school, each building as monotonously unsightly as its 
 neighbours ; these are the township's main constituents. 
 Local society consists of the bank manager, doctor, 
 clergyman, etc., with lower positions assigned to the 
 school-teacher and police-constable, the latter usually a 
 superior man and invariably an influential one. This 
 circle is regarded as consisting of city folk, and is viewed 
 with distrust and suspicion by the locals. The feuds and 
 
 140 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 scandals inevitable in village life are embittered by this 
 jarring of town and bush, and to the policeman, if he 
 is tactful, falls the task of keeping peace between the 
 parties. 
 
 The visitor who studies the life of Australia in a bush 
 township can hardly escape the conclusion that this must 
 be among the least sober of all countries of the world. 
 The conclusion would be an erroneous one, as statistics 
 might prove, but there is no doubt about the amount of 
 hard drinking that goes on in the bush townships. There 
 may be seen the bushman, who has not known the taste 
 of intoxicating drink for months, indulging in an orgy 
 in which he invites all comers to participate. The 
 occasional ^ bursts ' of more frequent visitors to the place 
 are equally obvious, for the little township concentrates 
 the drunkenness of a whole district. The moral fibre of 
 the young man called upon to live in such surroundings, 
 perhaps as bank clerk or civil servant, must be stout, 
 or he will run considerable danger of yielding to the 
 infectious atmosphere. Life in the bush township is 
 supremely dull, especially to a youngster who has newly 
 abandoned the attractions of a big city, and the one 
 spot less boresome than the rest is the hotel parlour. 
 It is recognised in Australia that young men who 
 would remain steady in other surroundings are apt to 
 acquire intemperate habits during a period of township 
 life. 
 
 It is not an attractive picture, although, unfortunately, 
 it has its counterpart in other countries. Years go by 
 and bring little change to the dull hamlet, with its single 
 dusty street and its general unfinished air of rusty un- 
 tidiness. The railway comes, and the one event of the 
 day is the arrival of the up-train, just as the one topic 
 of conversation is the latest aspect of the perennial 
 quarrel between the bank manager and the publican. 
 Dingo Bill arrives from ^ way back ' and paints the 
 place red, until his career is cut short by the constable, 
 after which the doctor treats him for delirium tremens^ 
 
 141 
 
Australian Life 
 
 and he departs, penniless, but satisfied. Once a year 
 comes the show, or the sports, followed by drinking, 
 fighting, and a general scene of licentiousness and dis- 
 repute. It is Australian life at its worst : worse than the 
 life of the big cities, and infinitely worse than the brave 
 struggle on the lonely selection. 
 
 142 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE AUSTRALIAN AT PLAY 
 
 As might be expected from a people which allots eight 
 hours out of the twenty-four to recreation, the Australians 
 are devoted to outdoor sports of all kinds. The climate 
 assures so large a proportion of fine days, the cities have 
 been provided so liberally with playing-grounds, and the 
 hours of labour are so short, that it could hardly be 
 otherwise. As a result, the Australian is sometimes 
 reproached with devoting too much time to play, though 
 there is something to be said in favour of a national 
 sentiment which regards it as a matter of course that 
 every young man shall be able to swim, to ride a horse, 
 and to handle a gun or a rifle. The President of an 
 Australian Science Congress recently proposed — no doubt 
 jocularly — that research should be initiated to the end 
 that the bacillus of sport might be eradicated from the 
 rising generation ; but Australians are not able to forget 
 that a full recognition of their existence was first obtained 
 in the Motherland by the success of their bands of 
 cricketers. 
 
 It has been said that when an Australian settlement is 
 planted, the first care of the pioneers is to mark out the 
 site of the cemetery, the second to plan a race-course. 
 Horse-racing in Australia, however, is not the constant 
 and absorbing pursuit made of it by its devotees in Great 
 Britain, but an amusement that concentrates public 
 attention during certain seasons of the year. For a week 
 
 143 
 
Australian Life 
 
 it becomes a consideration and is made a leading topic 
 of conversation, and then little is heard of the subject 
 until another racing carnival comes round. During the 
 first week in each November, for instance, the city of 
 Melbourne is devoted to horse-racing ; for the Melbourne 
 Cup, the most important event in the Australian racing 
 calendar, is then decided. It is remarkable how many 
 gatherings, necessitating the presence of visitors from 
 other States, are held in Melbourne at that season. The 
 Australian fleet of warships, usually stationed at Sydney, 
 may invariably be found in Port Phillip, and from all 
 corners of the continent visitors find their way to 
 Melbourne for the great Australian reunion. Bronzed 
 squatters from Queensland, lean prospectors from the 
 sands of Western Australia, and traders who have 
 exhausted all the possibilities of the South Sea Islands 
 may be seen renewing old acquaintance on the spacious 
 lawns of the Flemington race-course. Everybody is 
 there, from the Governor-General to the newest music- 
 hall favourite. People who would not entertain the idea 
 of attending any other race meeting find their way to the 
 course on Melbourne Cup Day. The Australian spring 
 is in its most winsome mood, and as fashion has decreed 
 that this shall be the occasion when the Australian woman 
 may display her most tasteful dress and most expensive 
 hat, the scene on the great lawn before the grand-stand 
 becomes the most brilliant to be witnessed in all 
 Australia. 
 
 On a big hill behind the grand-stand are the Australian 
 workmen in their thousands, and the hoarse roar of the 
 bookmakers in that part of the race-course is loud and 
 continuous. Half a crown admits to this enclosure, 
 attached to which is a large paddock where wives and 
 families may picnic in comfort. Admission to the area 
 enclosed by the race-course itself is free, and here, too, 
 is a dense crowd, enjoying all the shows and amusements 
 usually seen at a fair. As many as a hundred thousand 
 people have been present on the course to see the race 
 
 144 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 for the cup, and the day is observed as a pubhc holiday 
 in the city. But the interest in the race is not confined 
 to those upon the course. For five shilHngs a ticket may 
 be purchased in a cup lottery, and the fortunate drawer 
 of the winning horse learns from the result of the race 
 that he has suddenly stepped into a fortune. The promoter 
 of these lotteries deducts ten per cent, of the money 
 passing through his hands, amounting annually to some 
 hundreds of thousands sterling. Clerks and shop girls 
 set aside a small portion of their earnings each week, 
 forming speculative companies to send regularly for 
 tickets and divide any winnings accruing to them. Apart 
 from these * consultations,' as they are called, there is a 
 great deal of betting upon the result of the race, which 
 usually attracts a field of about thirty of the finest horses 
 in Australia. 
 
 When this field of horses faces the barrier of the 
 starting-gate, there is a sudden hush over all the course. 
 The promenade on the lawn stops for the time, and 
 every one seeks some point from which the race can be 
 viewed. The roar on the hill ceases, the swing-boats 
 and merry-go-rounds are still, while all prepare to watch 
 the struggle. In five minutes the result will be telegraphed 
 to every town through a continent of three million miles, 
 huge sums of money will have changed hands, a few 
 fortunate ones will have become suddenly rich, and 
 many thousands disappointed. Three minutes of breath- 
 less suspense, a mighty roar as the struggling horses flash 
 past the winning-post, and then the great crowd settles 
 down to its promenading and picnicing again. The race 
 is the great event of the day, certainly, but there are old 
 friends to be met, reminiscences to be exchanged, and 
 luncheons and afternoon teas still to be consumed. East 
 meets West on cup day, and North meets South. It is 
 much more than a mere race meeting to a sparsely 
 populated country such as Australia. 
 
 The conduct of horse-racing in Australia is marked by 
 the regard paid to the convenience and comfort of the 
 
 145 I' 
 
Australian Life 
 
 race-going public. Of the minor improvements introduced 
 upon Australian race-courses, such as the numbering of 
 saddle-cloths, so that spectators can, by a glance at their 
 cards, tell the name of a horse without reference to the 
 colours worn by his rider, much has been written. Betting 
 in many of the Australian States takes place on the course 
 through the agency of the totalisator, or pari-imitiiel^ 
 while in other States bookmakers are controlled by the 
 racing clubs governing the sport. Admission fees to the 
 race-courses are strictly reasonable, and it is certain that 
 while more of the Australians have a personal knowledge 
 of racing gained from attending the courses, there is 
 much less of the blind and ignorant gambling which 
 takes place in the cities of Great Britain among men who 
 never saw a race-horse extended. On the other hand, it 
 would be idle to contend for one moment that the sport 
 is as pure in itself in Australia as in Great Britain. 
 Many of the Australian owners of race-horses are frankly 
 concerned in racing for the sake of the money they hope 
 to make at it, and incidents take place at some of the 
 minor meetings that would not for one moment be 
 tolerated by the English Jockey Club. 
 
 The climate of Australia largely accounts for the skill 
 in cricket which has now become recognised as an 
 Australian attribute. It would easily be possible in 
 many parts of Australia to play cricket throughout the 
 winter, and many cricketers devote that season to base- 
 ball, recognised as a summer pastime in America. Per- 
 haps nothing is more eloquent of the Australian interest 
 in sport than the appearance of the newspaper offices 
 during the progress of an Anglo- Australian cricket match. 
 Hoardings are erected on the street frontage of each 
 office, and from time to time bulletins are posted there 
 announcing the latest scores, with full particulars. All 
 day long a crowd stands before each hoarding, disclosing 
 by shrewd comments an intimate knowledge of the game. 
 The same knowledge is often displayed by the much 
 abused * barracker,' who yells advice and reproach at the 
 
 146 
 
SLUICING FOR GOLD. 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 players during the course of the match. It is an evil 
 custom certainly, and cannot be excused even in experts 
 who may usually be found, not as spectators, but as 
 active exponents of the game. 
 
 It is in this particular that an Australian cricket crowd 
 differs most essentially from a similar gathering in Eng- 
 land. The regular spectator can hardly be said to 
 exist, for these large crowds are reserved for very special 
 occasions. An ordinary club cricket match does not 
 attract more than a few scores of watchers, while every 
 vacant piece of land proves that the Australian, as a rule, 
 would rather play cricket than look at it. Football, on 
 the other hand, draws its regular crowds of spectators ; 
 and it is not uninteresting to note that in most of the 
 Australian States the game is played according to a set 
 of rules of local origin. The result is a fast, exciting 
 game, best played on a dry field with a lively ball. For 
 a bracing, sunny winter afternoon, there is no finer game 
 for player or spectator, and the popularity of football 
 can readily be understood. 
 
 A visit to one of the large city parks on Saturday 
 afternoon will show that the Australian's aptitude for sport 
 has caused him to adopt, not only all the recognised 
 pastimes of.. .Gr^at - Britain , - but -thosje - of many other 
 ^r'lintrifs as wf^ll — He takes baseball from the United 
 Staj£.Sj l?irr.<^ssp from Canada^ -and polo from Asia, and 
 can boast^ jp addition, of one or two sports that are 
 peculiarly his own. 
 
 Most of these belong to the men of the bush, and 
 perhaps the most interesting and characteristic among 
 them is the sj ^prt of w xiod-choppinp^. A championship 
 contest is at once a novel and exciting spectacle, and one 
 not readily forgotten. Each axeman has his trainer, 
 who plays the part of mentor during the contest, some- 
 times pointing to the spot where the next blow could be 
 delivered with most advantage, and continually reporting 
 the progress made by the other competitors. The logs 
 to be severed — all practically of the same girth — stand 
 
 147 
 
Australian Life 
 
 upright, so that the axemen deliver their blows in the 
 same position as when felling a tree. At a given signal, 
 all fall to work, the sharp axes bite their way through 
 the solid logs, and great segments of wood fall thick and 
 fast upon the ground. It is impossible to predict where 
 victory will rest, for those who start best often tire most 
 rapidly, and sometimes a man will fall down from sheer 
 exhaustion before the log is severed, since wood-chop- 
 ping makes a severe demand upon even the strongest 
 frame. But the cheer that goes up when the first log 
 topples over relieves the tension, and the victor's name 
 and the time occupied in the performance of the feat 
 are quickly announced. Cash prizes of a very sub- 
 stantial size are often to be won by expert axemen, a 
 few of whom have exalted the accomplishment into 
 a profession. Wood-chopping contests are advertised 
 for many weeks beforehand, and during an afternoon 
 devoted to this pastime, the sport is varied by contests 
 in splitting and sawing wood. 
 
 Like the British soldier, the Western Australian miner 
 is no stranger to the delight afforded by a camel racQ, 
 with native riders. Many of the Afghans are very proud 
 of the speed and endurance of their saddle camels, and it 
 is no difficult matter to arrange a race when the bulk of 
 the fun is afforded by the efforts of the riders to urge the 
 beasts along. The excitement is mainly confined to the 
 Afghan spectators, who are all violent partisans, and 
 shout frantically at the animals they do not wish to win, 
 in the hope of inducing them to lie down. The sequel 
 is invariably a terrific squabble, during which challenges 
 are thrown out and a fresh race is arranged. Even 
 quainter than a camel race is the goat race, peculiar, as 
 far as I know, to the race-courses of Northern Queens- 
 land, and not unusually the brightest item in the day's 
 programme of sport. In dealing with the amusements 
 of the bush, it would be possible to dilate upon the sheep- 
 shearing contests that take place at the country shows 
 and the competitions in riding buck-jumping horses ; also 
 
 148 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 the rock-drilling matches that may be witnessed in a 
 mining camp. They are at least interesting as showing 
 how the Australian makes a sport of the occupation in 
 which he excels. 
 
 Eor-€iiaDling.. and fishing- in. Australia no licences are 
 required, but the sportsman must have a knowledge of 
 the close seasons, and of the birds and animals protected 
 throughout the year. Game is not everywhere plentiful, 
 but the pursuit of it afFords a pleasant excuse for the best 
 of all Australian amusements, that of camping out. To 
 pitch a tent on the banks of a clear stream, with plenty 
 of good water-holes for bathing, and to sleep on a thick 
 couch of springy fern is a joy in itself during the golden 
 Australian summer. The stream holds all sorts of 
 wonders, crayfish, and black fish, and little silver trout. 
 A glimpse of a platypus may sometimes be caught, if the 
 locality is a sufficiently remote one, and a sight of a pair 
 of these water-moles at play is reward enough to the 
 nature-lover for much patient watching. In the big 
 water-holes there will surely be black duck and teal, both 
 very welcome additions to the larder, while the presence 
 of the rabbit may be taken as a matter of course. Every 
 patch of scrub may shelter a wallaby, but one may only 
 look from a distance at the big forester kangaroos, 
 hopping away at long range among the open forest trees. 
 
 Flour and bacon, with potatoes and onions, and, of 
 course, tea and sugar, are necessities to the camper out ; 
 also a pair of blankets, the oldest clothes available, not 
 forgetting a pair of thick leather leggings as a precaution 
 against snake bite, and just as much or as little sporting 
 paraphernalia as may seem desirable. A horse and cart 
 for the conveyance of these things and of the tent may 
 be hired at the railway- station nearest the chosen spot, 
 and then all arrangements are made. From the first dip 
 in the water-hole before the sun is up to the last pipe 
 smoked around the camp fire before turning in, the whole 
 day is one round of keen delight. Damper and billy tea 
 provide a meal that appears in the light of a choice 
 
 149 
 
Australian Life 
 
 confection, and the feeblest joke gains a zest from its 
 surroundings. 
 
 Let me recall but one incident from among many 
 memories of camp life. We had been in camp a week 
 in a secluded valley in the Dividing Ranges, and during 
 that time had seen no human faces but those of our own 
 party. That night we were sitting around the fire under 
 the stars, and finishing the last of a demijohn of ex- 
 cellent Australian wine bought at a vineyard on the 
 road, when we heard, far away, the footbeats of an 
 approaching horse. We listened in silence as they 
 came nearer, and presently a horseman rode into our 
 circle of firelight and drew rein. He only stayed long 
 enough to explain his errand, for he was riding across 
 country to the nearest township for a doctor. Then he 
 drank the proffered cup of wine, and was gone into the 
 darkness, the only man we saw during our stay there. 
 
 Even big game shooting is possible for the ambitious 
 sportsman in Australia. The Northern Territory has its 
 herds of swamp buffalo, the descendants of animals 
 introduced from the Malay archipelago in the middle of 
 the last century. The shooting of these animals has 
 been made an occupation by a band of adventurous men, 
 who obtain handsome incomes from the sale of hides, 
 horns, and salted buffalo beef. On Melville Island, 
 near Arnheim Peninsula, the buffalo herds are estimated 
 to number fifty thousand, the right of shooting them 
 belonging to one man, who has rigorously preserved them 
 for some years. The buffalo shooter must be able to 
 ride well, and willing at any time to take the risk of an 
 encounter with an infuriated buffalo bull. The country 
 inhabited by the buffalo herds is swampy, and in holding 
 ground the buffalo, by reason of his large flat feet, holds 
 a distinct advantage over a horse. It is the custom of 
 the riders to keep a respectful distance while pursuing 
 their quarry through the swamps, but to ride up to the 
 animal's quarters when sound going has been reached. 
 Then a shot from a carbine or shortened rifle shatters 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 the animars spinal column, and it is left to be despatched 
 and skinned by the aboriginal assistants who follow in 
 the horse's tracks, while the shooter himself rides on after 
 the flying herd. 
 
 The sportsmen who have introduced animals and fish 
 from the Old World are not altogether to be congratulated 
 upon the result of their enterprise. The streams have 
 been stocked with trout, which have thriven and eaten 
 up the native fish, and multiplied, only to turn up their 
 noses at every lure in the shape of an artificial fly, and to 
 fall an ignominious prey to the boy who baits with a 
 local grasshopper. Foxes have been introduced and 
 have betaken themselves to the hilly ground, where it is 
 impossible to hunt them. They have become a pest to 
 the farmer, and every Australian shoots a fox on sight as 
 readily as he would a snake. The depredations of the 
 rabbit in Australia are well known, and in some districts 
 hares are almost as great a nuisance. The house-sparrow 
 and the Indian minah were surely unnecessary, even to 
 the sportsman, but they are there, and it is impossible to 
 get rid of them. It is not surprising, therefore, that 
 a gentleman who proposed introducing the African 
 eland into Australia was begged by the Press to consider 
 first whether that animal might not develop in his new 
 habitat some latent vice not readily discernible in his 
 natural surroundings. 
 
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Australian Life 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE ABORIGINES 
 
 The rapid dwindling of the aboriginal races of Australia 
 since the coming of the white man is one of the least 
 attractive incidents in the development of the continent. 
 The Tasmanian blacks are already extinct, and of the 
 scattered tribes of Victoria, only a few hmidred members 
 now remain. There were more than 6000 full-blooded 
 blacks in New South Wales in 1882, and twenty years 
 later the number had shrunk to less than 3000. Mr. 
 Archibald Meston, Protector of Aborigines in Southern 
 Queensland, estimates that the number of blacks in that 
 State was 200,000 in the year 1840, and these, according 
 to the same authority, had been reduced to 25,000 at 
 the end of the century. In spite of the most stringent 
 laws passed for the protection of this remnant, they 
 annually decrease by at least 500, and it is therefore 
 the opinion of the authority I have quoted that the race 
 will be practically extinct in Queensland by the middle 
 of the present century. In Central and North-Western 
 Australia there are large tribes of blacks still living in 
 their primitive condition of wildness, but the laws existing 
 for their protection are not so carefully drawn as in 
 Queensland. The opportunities for obtaining drink and 
 opium are too many and too frequent, and these tribes 
 are also diminishing in number. 
 
 This rapid decay of an interesting race, unfortunate 
 as it is, would appear to be inevitable. The unvarying 
 
 152 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 testimony of all the authorities upon the subject goes 
 to prove that contact with civilisation is fatal to the 
 Australian black. His rapid extermination may have 
 been hastened in the past by carelessness and cruelty 
 of treatment that was grossly selfish on the part of the 
 white man, but even the most intelligent and best- 
 intentioned efforts to civilise this people have proved 
 abortive and injurious to them. The only elements of 
 civilised existence they seem able to assimilate are those 
 calculated to prove destructive to them. * In their wild 
 state they get along all right,' wrote one of their official 
 protectors, 'but when they are educated, what can we 
 do with them ? ' 
 
 It is, indeed, only of late years that any organised 
 attempt has been made to obtain accurate and scientific 
 knowledge of their real and natural life, and of the 
 curious and interesting tribal customs which survive 
 among them. The task has been one of considerable 
 difficulty, since the sources of information most readily 
 available have been tainted by communication and inter- 
 course with the white man. It has, nevertheless, been 
 possible to gather from the scattered remnants of the 
 original Australian race, still living in a wild state, an 
 excellent idea of life in Australia when the black-fellow 
 roamed in undisputed possession of the continent. Of 
 agriculture he had not even the most primitive idea, and 
 relied for food upon the wild fruits and vegetables of 
 the land, and upon the game secured during his fishing 
 and hunting expeditions. The only animal he has ever 
 succeeded in domesticating is the dog, and every tribe 
 of blacks is still accompanied by large packs of these 
 animals. As a rule, the black-fellow is fond of his dogs, 
 and feeds them when he is able. But even when they 
 have to look after themselves, they are certainly not 
 treated with any active cruelty, or set to fight for the 
 amusement of their masters. The dogs are useful only 
 to the wild black-fellows, who have to exist by hunting 
 for the greater part of the year. 
 
 153 
 
Australian Life 
 
 The same necessity which made him tame the dog 
 has also impelled him to invent the most scientific 
 wooden weapons that the world can show. It is curious 
 that, although the development of the aborigine was 
 arrested at the stage of the manufacture of wooden 
 weapons, he has nevertheless succeeded in making the 
 boomerang and the woomera, both highly ingenious and 
 effective weapons, which he handles with a remarkable 
 degree of skill. The boomerang has often been described, 
 and examples of the woomera, or throwing stick, may 
 be seen in most museums. It is a short, stout stick, 
 notched at one end to receive the butt of an exceedingly 
 long and light spear. With a woomera the adept can 
 throw these light spears with amazing force and accuracy, 
 and although the spear-tips are made of hard wood only, 
 these missiles served to kill kangaroos and emus, and 
 afterwards sheep and cattle. 
 
 In a very interesting paper on aboriginal foods. 
 Dr. Roth, of North Queensland, has enumerated more 
 than two hundred varieties of fruits and vegetables which 
 are eaten. When he can get them, the black shows no 
 aversion to insects and reptiles of all kinds. Snakes are 
 regarded as a delicacy, and the hills of some species of 
 ants are plundered, eggs, larvae, and mature insects being 
 kneaded into a kind of paste, and eaten with relish. 
 Grubs of all kinds, and especially the large, white grubs 
 found under the bark of the wattle tree, are looked upon 
 with extreme favour, and are sometimes roasted and 
 sometimes eaten raw. Earth-eating is also practised by 
 some of the Queensland blacks, to satisfy a craving 
 created by a disease common among them, and not 
 unknown among the whites of the same locality. 
 
 In fishing and hunting the black-fellow is at his best, 
 and shows himself possessed of great skill, cunning, and 
 endurance. Emus are driven into traps and pits, or else 
 speared, after much patient stalking. Snares are set for 
 smaller birds, which are also killed with the boomerang. 
 Swans and ducks are taken by swimming and diving, 
 154 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 the head of the hunter being concealed in a mass of 
 aquatic weeds. Kangaroos are tr-^cked and speared, 
 or run down with dogs, while the dogs also assist in 
 driving the wallabies into snares and nets. The black- 
 fellow catches opossums by climbing the trees in which 
 they live, sounding the trunks for hollows in which these 
 animals shelter. 
 
 Fishing is carried on in several ways. In angling 
 they employ the sucker-fish as a natural hook, but a 
 more favoured method of taking fish is that of stupefying 
 them by treading the water until it becomes very muddy, 
 or by the use of some vegetable poison. They also 
 make nets into which the fish are driven, and some tribes 
 show great skill in spearing fish. 
 
 The manufactures of the black-fellow are not limited 
 to the fashioning of his weapons, for the women make 
 many articles of string. Some of this string is twisted 
 from the hair of human beings and of animals, but the 
 greater part of it is made of the vegetable fibre of the 
 spinifex grass. This is chewed and soaked to get rid 
 of the adhesive matter, and then twisted into strands in 
 a very business-like fashion. From the string thus made 
 nets for fishing and hunting are manufactured, as are 
 the dilly bags in which the gins carry their possessions. 
 The unfailing amusement of the women and children, 
 it is interesting to learn, is an elaborate imitation of the 
 game of cat's cradle ; for with a length of string all sorts 
 of designs are produced, each of which is supposed to 
 bear resemblance to some natural object. 
 
 The-aniusements of- the-m.en consist in .athlddc jQont^sts, 
 in_jduelj^.partlysham*^. but. still of a very realistic.nature, 
 and irLlribal^dancing. Owing to tile investigations of 
 Messrs. Spencer and Gillen, the true significance of some 
 of these dances or corroborees is now understood. The 
 information was gathered in the course of two expeditions 
 to Central Australia, when photographs and even cine- 
 matographic records of the corroborees were obtained. 
 One typical dance is reserved for the rainy season, and 
 155 
 
Australian Life 
 
 is supposed to be conducive to the fall of the much- 
 desired showers. In this dance some of the actors 
 represent ducks and other aquatic birds which make 
 their appearance during the rainy season, and they deck 
 themselves for the performance with objects symbolical 
 of clouds and running water, thus preserving the signifi- 
 cance attached to this special dance. 
 
 At least one aboriginal dialect has been reduced to a 
 written language by Dr. Roth, assisted by two German 
 missionaries, Messrs. Schwartz and Poland, of the Lake 
 Bedford station. This language is exceedingly interesting, 
 on account of its remarkable inflections and grammatical 
 complications, an extremely limited vocabulary of root 
 words being most ingeniously employed to serve all the 
 purposes of a spoken language. Dr. Roth declares it 
 to be identical with the dialect of which Captain Cook 
 made a vocabulary in the year 1770, since which time 
 the spoken language appears to have undergone few, if 
 any, alterations. 
 
 Interesting as the black-fellow undoubtedly is while he 
 remains in his wild condition, when he comes into close 
 contact with the white man he presents a spectacle that 
 is pitiable and pathetic. A visit to one of the aboriginal 
 reservations will convince any inquirer that, with the very 
 best intentions, the Australian Governments are able to 
 do but little for those people. Houses built to shelter 
 them are kept in a bare and sordid state, and the 
 uncultivated state of the good lands they possess shows 
 that it is impossible to instil into them even the rudiments 
 of agriculture. The large proportion of half-caste children, 
 while it is a reproach to the whites, is also eloquent of 
 the absence of any vestige of morality in either black 
 man or woman. Neither the stringency of laws nor the 
 vigilance of paid officials serves to protect the black race 
 from itself; for it dates back to an era before the stone 
 age, and cannot be in any way reconciled with the 
 conditions of to-day. 
 
 The skill of the aboriginal as a tracker has formed the 
 
 156 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 subject of countless stories, many of which can be readily 
 verified. Attached to the police force of each of the 
 Australian States is a band of these black trackers, whose 
 services are most useful in tracing the footsteps of 
 criminals or of unfortunates lost in the bush. 
 
 These trackers are drawn from the wildest and least 
 civilised tribes of Northern Australia, and it is curious to 
 notice how rapidly they lose the instinct which makes 
 their services of value. After a very few years it is 
 generally found necessary to dismiss them and to fill 
 their places with men freshly drawn from the wild 
 existence natural and necessary to the welfare of the 
 Australian blacks. In a book on the Black Police of 
 Queensland, Mr. E. B. Kennedy, who had a long and 
 varied experience with that force, narrates many instances 
 of the tracking ability of the black-fellow. One of these 
 is of especial significance, because it proves that the 
 tracker loses none of his skill when transferred to another 
 land where the local conditions are unfamiliar to him. 
 
 Attached to one of the Australian contingents sent to 
 the Boer war was a native Australian tracker called 
 Billy. Some English officers, when discussing scouting 
 and kindred topics with their Australian colleagues 
 expressed their doubt as to the powers of the tracker 
 being as great as they were represented, although 
 admitting their belief that the stories told them might 
 have some foundation in fact. A trial was at once 
 arranged, and five officers were set off, at different hours 
 and in different directions, two on foot, and three on horse- 
 back ; Billy being meantime locked up. When released 
 he followed up each track in turn, and on his return to 
 camp note-books were taken out and he was told to 
 proceed. Billy forthwith sketched the route taken by 
 each, described how one had tied up his horse, and 
 climbed a tree, although there was * neither 'possum nor 
 sugar bag ' in it. One of the footmen was a * silly 
 pfeller,' for he had gone out in his socks and cut his 
 foot, and so lamed himself for the rest of his journey. 
 
 157 
 
Australian Life 
 
 The half-burnt match of another man who had lighted 
 his pipe was produced, as well as hairs establishing the 
 fact that the three horses were dark brown, light brown, 
 and grey in colour. In short, Billy quite convinced 
 those English officers that his powers were as great as 
 had been claimed. 
 
 Apart from this sphere of usefulness the aborigines 
 make splendid stockmen, for they are good natural 
 horsemen, and their keen sight and hearing, as well as 
 their instinct for observation, are of the greatest advantage 
 in this work. It more closely resembles their natural 
 life, providing them with plenty of change and excite- 
 ment, and with the nomad existence to which they have 
 always been accustomed. But should the tribe to which 
 they belong make its appearance in the neighbourhood, 
 they at once grow unsettled and sullen, and nothing will 
 restrain them from ^ going wild,' for a time at least. As 
 they grow older this longing for freedom from restraint 
 gains upon them, and they become less diligent and 
 attentive to their duties. The best work is obtained 
 from those who are taken when quite young, and removed 
 to some distance from the district to which they belong. 
 
 The women are more reliable, and on the stations in 
 the far west and north, perform all the household 
 drudgery. Some of them make very faithful and useful 
 servants, and as they are very fond of children are 
 frequently employed as nurses. They are cheerful and 
 good-tempered, fond of a joke and of bright colours, 
 and easily managed by any one who understands them. 
 Ladies who have grown accustomed to them will often 
 declare that they prefer them to the best white servants, 
 especially for work in the bush. This opinion is shared 
 by some of the gins themselves, if the story told by a 
 western station holder be true. His wife employed an 
 Irish servant-girl as well as a black gin, an'd between the 
 pair an endless quarrel went on. For the Irish girl the 
 lady of the house made a dress, and promised the gin 
 one exactly like it. She was rather surprised to hear the 
 
 158 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 latter begging for something of different pattern, and on 
 asking the reason was told, ' Mine think it people take 
 me for sister that white Mary.' 
 
 According to bush report the black-fellow has a very 
 poor head for figures, and is unable to count beyond 
 ten. Hence the story of the black-fellow whose master 
 took him to Sydney, and who, on his return to the 
 station, was questioned by the boundary-rider, *Well, 
 Jacky, did you see many people in Sydney ? " 
 
 ' My word ! Tousands ! Millions ! Very nearly 
 fifty ! ' 
 
 Even on the far-out cattle stations poor Jacky is worse 
 off than in his wild state. For his rugs of native animals 
 he learns to substitute absorbent blankets, and the damp 
 affects him in a terrible way. Pulmonary complaints 
 develop with an awful rapidity, and the black-fellow is 
 unable to make any fight against them. He is even 
 worse off in the more settled districts, where he may be 
 seen hanging around the public-houses and begging for 
 money and tobacco. 
 
 Some of them find employment on the sugar planta- 
 tions, but in too many cases their employers are China- 
 men, who bribe them to work with gifts of opium. 
 There is a law forbidding any one to supply this drug to 
 the aborigines under very severe penalties; but the 
 Chinese defy it, and add to the offence by supplying the 
 opium in a most deadly form, adulterated with the ashes 
 from opium pipes already smoked. Indulgence in this 
 poisonous drug is even more fatal to the blacks than 
 spirits, but they readily acquire the craving for it, and 
 will do anything for a small quantity. 
 
 The myall, or wild black-fellow, is frequently a law- 
 breaker, his peculiar weakness being the spearing of 
 cattle. At a place called Wyndham, in the north of 
 Western AustraHa, there is a gaol devoted solely to 
 aboriginal prisoners, the majority of whom have been 
 convicted of this offence. This gaol will accommodate 
 a hundred prisoners, and is usually full, the ordinary 
 159 
 
Australian Life 
 
 sentence imposed for cattle-spearing being from three to 
 six months. It would be interesting to know to what 
 extent the wild black is acquainted with the rights of 
 property, and exactly what difference he sees between 
 spearing a bullock and spearing a kangaroo. 
 
 It seems idle to express any hope for the future of this 
 race, or to propose any plan for arresting its rapid decay. 
 The portions of Austraha not yet occupied by the white 
 race are considered to be the most arid and unproductive 
 areas of the continent, and these are all that is left to the 
 myall of the country he once held without dispute. 
 Educational influences have been expended upon them 
 to worse than no purpose, for it is generally conceded 
 that the black children brought up in the mission schools 
 have turned out more thievish, idle, and vicious than any 
 of their fellows. The utmost distinction ever attained by 
 any member of the race has been to become a clever 
 jockey, a swift runner, or a skilful cricketer. Regenera- 
 tion of the people seems out of the question, and the 
 most that can be done is to treat it with the kindness 
 that is extended to a dying man. On this point the laws 
 of some of the Australian States might well be revised, 
 and steps taken for their stricter enforcement. 
 
 1 60 
 
< 
 
 O 
 
 O 
 H 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 A WHITE AUSTRALIA 
 
 Although untroubled by any questions arising out of the 
 presence of an indigenous coloured race, the Australians 
 recognise a more serious danger in the proximity of Asia 
 and its surplus millions of population. They conse- 
 quently enforce the most stringent measures of exclusion 
 against the coloured alien, and especially against Chinese, 
 Japanese, and Indian coolies. It is contended, and with 
 some force, that the development of Northern Australia 
 is seriously retarded by these restrictions, and there are 
 those who say that tropical Australia will always remain 
 a wilderness if white labour is relied upon for its cultiva- 
 tion. The same arguments are advanced in support of 
 the employment of Kanakas, or South Sea Islanders, 
 upon the sugar plantations of Queensland. Before the 
 restrictive measures were applied, a multitude of coloured 
 immigrants had already found their way to Australia, 
 the latest census placing their number at 55,000, of 
 whom 32,000 are Chinese and 10,000 South Sea Islanders, 
 the bulk of the remainder consisting of Hindoos, Japanese, 
 Manila men, and Afghans. 
 
 The reasons that induced the Commonwealth Parlia- 
 ment to decide that no addition should be made to 
 these numbers have frequently been rehearsed. The 
 exclusionists point to the difficulty thrust upon the United 
 States by the presence of a large negro population. The 
 low standard of living adopted by the coloured races, 
 161 M 
 
Australian Life 
 
 the undesirable intermixtures of race already evident in 
 some parts of Queensland, and the absence of due regard 
 for morality and sanitation are further arguments advanced 
 by the advocates of a * White Australia.' Even those who 
 admit that cooHe labour is best suited to tropical Australia 
 shake their heads over the impossibility of confining the 
 coloured alien to the North, and so arrive at the con- 
 clusion that it is better the North should suffer than that 
 all Australia should be overrun. I do not propose to 
 enter into the discussion of this question, but rather to 
 describe some of the very interesting occupations in which 
 the coloured alien is already engaged. 
 
 It should first be understood that the exclusionist legis- 
 lation of the first Commonwealth Parliament deals with 
 two aspects of the coloured labour question. One Act, 
 deahng with the indentured labour of South Sea Islanders, 
 sets a term to the employment of this labour. The last 
 boats carrying indentured labourers from the islands to 
 Australia arrived in Queensland early in 1904, and from 
 that time the Kanakas were deported as their indentures 
 expired. This Act was supplemented by an offer of 
 bonuses to the cane-growers employing white labour on 
 their plantations, the amount of the bonus being pro- 
 portionate to the quantity of sugar produced. The object 
 of these bonuses is the gradual substitution of white 
 labour for coloured, so that the deportation of the Kanakas 
 may be accomphshed without dislocating the industry. 
 The result of this experiment will be watched with the 
 keenest interest, especially by those who contend that the 
 white man is physically incapable of the work required 
 on a tropical plantation. The second legislative measure 
 provides, among other things, an educational test whereby 
 undesirable immigrants may be excluded. The greatest 
 merit of this test lies in its elasticity. The test may be 
 reduced almost to vanishing point for the benefit of 
 immigrants whose presence is welcome, while an un- 
 desirable can be confronted, if necessary, with a stiff 
 paper in Greek. The Commonwealth Parliament has 
 162 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 carried its opposition to coloured labour to the length 
 of abolishing it on the boats contracting to carry the 
 mails to and from the United Kingdom. 
 
 The reader has already been introduced to the China- 
 man at his cabinet and laundry works in the cities, and 
 raking over the abandoned workings of the gold-fields. 
 He is equally successful as a market gardener, and may 
 be found pursuing that occupation on the outskirts of 
 almost every Australian town, whether large or small. 
 His ramshackle wooden hut is unmistakable, the roof 
 patched with strips of rusty tin, and the broken windows 
 obscured by sheets of dingy paper. In this hovel half 
 a dozen or more coolies are crowded together in a con- 
 dition that would appear to any European distinctly 
 uncomfortable and insanitary. A set of bunks, one 
 above the other, lines the walls, and a peep into the 
 malodorous kitchen proves that John Chinaman's fare is 
 as meagre as his sleeping accommodation. In the tumble- 
 down stable, however, may be found a sleek, well-cared 
 for horse, luxuriating in comfort. * Fat as a Chinaman's 
 horse ' and ' fat as a larrikin's dog ' are two similes of 
 significant frequency in Australia. The garden itself is 
 a picture of neatness and good management. The little 
 square raised beds of cabbage and onions are free from 
 weeds, and flourishing, a result achieved by constant 
 diligence and a system of liquid manuring it would not 
 be advisable to investigate too closely, if the vegetables 
 are to be eaten. John is not always cleanly, just as he 
 is not always communicative. On some points he is 
 bubbling over with information, on others his attitude is 
 that of the poor untutored foreigner with a very imperfect 
 knowledge of the English language. He shakes his head 
 and smiles blandly, murmuring the words, * No savvy,' 
 at intervals. For all his politeness, it is not possible to 
 break through his wall of reserve. 
 
 In Northern Queensland the Chinaman is often a 
 wealthy shopkeeper, and an employer of both coloured 
 and white labour. His admirers can point to his donations 
 163 
 
Australian Life 
 
 to the charities in proof that he is not ungenerous, and 
 to his unfaihng politeness to show that he is a genial 
 soul, shamefully misunderstood. The fact remains that 
 his object in life is to return to China with as much 
 money as he can possibly carry with him, and that mean- 
 time his low standard of morality is the more dangerous 
 to his adopted country because he seldom brings his 
 womenkind with him. The Chinaman has done good 
 work in the Northern Territory by proving the immense 
 possibilities of that district for growing coffee, arrowroot, 
 cotton, and other tropical products. Against this service 
 must be set his utter want of scruple in the employment 
 of the aborigines, whom he rewards with doles of rum 
 and of the opium that has so deadly an effect upon them. 
 
 Against the Chinaman as a citizen may further be urged 
 his taste for secret societies and for organised opposition 
 to the law. Definite information on the subject of his 
 secret societies may not readily be obtained, because of the 
 reserve he maintains upon this subject above all others. 
 It is known, however, that there are two important 
 societies with branches in every Chinese community in 
 Australia, and that one of these is a wing of the Boxer 
 organisation so prominent of recent years. Evidence 
 of the existence of Chinese organisations for bribing 
 policemen and magistrates has more than once been 
 obtained, although it is possible that John may be 
 credited with greater subtlety in this direction than he 
 really possesses. 
 
 An example of the cunning of the Chinaman is afforded 
 by the following letter, written, in reply to a demand for 
 rent from his landlord, by a Chinaman who, I have been 
 assured, is a shrewd and clever business man, with a 
 capital knowledge of colloquial English, both written and 
 spoken : — 
 
 * Dear Sir, 
 
 * To support our public doctrine of the prestige 
 illustration to restore salubrious enjoyments prime to 
 
 T fi/1 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 celebrate the Cup season. I acknowledge your transit, 
 will supervise the same your prime of health, I appreciate 
 you. As to the detouration of the season it will prophe- 
 size to foretell the thirstiness of the consecuting months : 
 occasion with heavy rainfall. Household dwellers, with 
 inferior roof, will soon complaint and suffer same. Strange 
 to say the Being's spending most of the hour in dwelling- 
 houses is the bedroom : but due to the inferiority of the 
 roof and walls, sufferers (sleepers) are compel to retire 
 from their natural slumber. At the same time foundation 
 of houses are generally destroyed through neglect of 
 improvements. However, this matter refer to the same 
 idea of our dwelling place. The best time to inspect 
 and improve is during the rainy season. In conclusion 
 with best wishes and sustain, confirm interest to aid the 
 sufferers. 
 
 * Yours truly, 
 
 ' Wing Mow.' 
 
 As no cheque accompanied this lucid note, the land- 
 lord took legal proceedings, and found that his agreement 
 had been signed by a Chinaman who was not of age, and 
 therefore not legally responsible. This is only one of 
 many examples that could be adduced in illustration of 
 the cunning employed by the Chinaman in playing ' the 
 game he does not understand.' 
 
 At Thursday Island in Torres Straits, and at Broome, 
 on Roebuck Bay in the north of Western Australia, are 
 situated the head-quarters of the pearling industry. Most 
 of the Japanese, Malays, and Manila men in Australia 
 are engaged in this occupation, and from each centre a 
 fleet of some three hundred pearHng vessels puts out. The 
 crews and divers engaged on these boats are all coloured 
 men, who work under the commands of a white skipper. 
 The chief product of the industry is the pearl-shell, for 
 the pearls themselves, although giving a romantic and 
 speculative interest to this occupation, are regarded as 
 only a secondary consideration. Most of the boats are 
 
 165 
 
Australian Life 
 
 fitted with an air-pump and diving apparatus, although 
 Thursday Island still sends boats to the shallower fishing- 
 grounds manned with swimming divers only. The 
 maximum depth at which the man in diving dress can 
 work is twenty fathoms, or one hundred and twenty feet, 
 and at that depth the pressure of water is so great as to 
 produce very unpleasant effects upon those who are called 
 upon to endure it. At one time white divers were not 
 infrequent upon the pearling grounds, but so many of 
 them became afflicted with paralysis that diving as an 
 occupation has been abandoned to the coloured man. 
 The white master may occasionally descend in the diving 
 dress for the purpose of examining the fishing-grounds 
 for himself, but that is all. 
 
 When the diver is at work, the boat is allowed to drift, 
 and he walks along the ocean bed beneath it. The shell he 
 gathers is sent in a bag to the surface, where the master 
 opens it and searches for the pearls. This is the specu- 
 lative side of the business, which appeals most keenly to 
 the adventurous class engaged in it. Fortune is pro- 
 verbially fickle, and men who have spent many years at 
 the fisheries without finding a pearl of great value have 
 to accept with resignation the fact that the most precious 
 gem ever found in Australia, sold in London for ;^5ooo, 
 fell to a novice who had just embarked in the pearling 
 trade. On those northern coasts of Australia the differ- 
 ence between the tides is very great, and the residents 
 often find a few oyster shells upon the beach at low tide. 
 A new arrival there had the pleasure of opening his first 
 find and discovering two pearls, one worth ^£10 and the 
 other worth £s^- This took place in the presence of a 
 resident who had been picking up shells for years without 
 any notable result, and his disgust was naturally too deep 
 for words. The pearls are sometimes found in the fish, 
 sometimes attached to the shell, and sometimes in a 
 ^ blister ' covered over with mother-of-pearl. 
 
 The crews of the pearling boats are paid from thirty to 
 fifty shillings a month, according to their length of service, 
 166 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 while the divers earn a great deal more. Most of them 
 are engaged under contract at Singapore, and when the 
 term of service has expired they are able to renew their 
 engagement on better terms. A clever and reliable 
 diver is thus placed in the position of being able to make 
 his own terms, and these are frequently very remunera- 
 tive. The masters of the boats are made responsible 
 for their men, and should one of these desert his boat 
 and escape into Australia, a penalty of ;^ioo is inflicted. 
 As a further precaution, these men are not even allowed 
 to go ashore until an official permit has been obtained. 
 These conditions are considered quite severe enough by 
 those engaged in the industry, and they threaten they 
 will transfer their head-quarters to Dutch territory (in 
 Java or elsewhere) if any further restrictions are imposed. 
 
 The business is undoubtedly a remunerative one. A 
 clever diver will collect five tons of shells in the course 
 of a year, and the best quaUty of shell is worth ;^2oo a 
 ton. As already stated, the value of the pearls is a 
 secondary consideration, but although it varies very 
 greatly it is always well worth taking into account. The 
 initial outlay on the purchase, equipment, and provision- 
 ing of a boat may be set down at from ;^5oo to ;^iooo, 
 and the extent of the fishing-grounds is so great that up 
 to the present there has been little talk of over-crowding. 
 
 Outside the pearling industry the Japanese, with his 
 womenkind, is no stranger to Australia, and the degraded 
 lives of these visitors affords some reason for the stern 
 embargo now placed upon them by the authorities. 
 
 The chmate and soil of the eastern slopes of tropical 
 Queensland are well suited to the cultivation of the sugar- 
 cane, and the industry has obtained so firm a footing 
 there that the most active controversy is still maintained 
 concerning the probable effect of the exclusion of Kanaka 
 labour. The islanders, both men and women, have in 
 the past been introduced from all parts of the South Seas, 
 and have proved themselves well fitted for the work in 
 the cane-fields. The methods employed to induce these 
 167 
 
Australian Life 
 
 people to leave their island homes were carefully regulated 
 by the Government, each boat employed in the recruiting 
 work being forced to carry a Government agent. The 
 remuneration offered to the labourers, though slight com- 
 pared to the wages required by white men to do the 
 same work, was nevertheless sufficient inducement to 
 those who engaged themselves, and in proof of the state- 
 ment that they were usually well treated may be advanced 
 the willingness shown by many of them to engage for a 
 second period. Those who returned to their island 
 homes usually laid out their earnings in brightly coloured 
 clothes and valueless fancy goods, but after a few weeks 
 of island life were frequently very glad to return to the 
 plantations again. 
 
 The work of cultivating the sugar cane, from the pro- 
 pagation of the young plants to the cutting of the ripe 
 cane for transport to the mills, necessitates hard physical 
 labour in a sweltering climate. The man who would 
 * trash ' the cane must stand hidden in a breathless cane 
 brake, while he tears the dead and dying leaves from the 
 lower parts of the stalks. The oppressive atmosphere is 
 laden with minute particles of vegetable fibre that choke 
 the throat and penetrate the lungs. This task, and the 
 still heavier work of cane-cutting, the Kanaka undertakes 
 cheerfully. The women also work in the fields, hoeing 
 the ground and freeing it from the rank crop of weeds 
 that spring up so rapidly in the moist heat. These people 
 live in great wooden barracks, and their staple foods are 
 maize porridge, molasses, and salt beef. Most of them 
 are Christians, and the visitor to a sugar plantation will 
 carry away a recollection of the fervour they exhibit in 
 the singing of hymns of the Moody and Sankey order. 
 
 Among the objections taken to the measure providing 
 for the deportation of the Kanakas was the possible 
 danger to the civilised islander himself. It was con- 
 tended that the labourers ran no inconsiderable risk of 
 being killed and eaten by their savage island relatives. 
 On this point the most reassuring testimony was obtained 
 1 68 
 
o 
 < 
 
 i 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 from the missionaries working among the islands, than 
 whom no one is more competent to express an opinion. 
 Some of these gentlemen entertain the hope that the 
 return of the Queensland labourers will have a good 
 effect among the islands, and that some agricultural 
 development will take place, resulting in the expansion 
 of island prosperity. In any event, the Australian Govern- 
 ment has charged itself with the responsibility of trans- 
 ferring the Kanaka labourers to islands where neither 
 their lives nor their prosperity will be in any danger. 
 
 169 
 
Australian Life 
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 EDUCATION, LITERATURE, AND ART 
 
 The Australian States charge themselves with the primary 
 education of children, either without expense to the 
 parents or for a fee that is purely nominal. There may 
 be found a few private elementary schools, but it is 
 estimated that quite eighty per cent, of Australian children 
 attend the State schools. The difficulties in the way of 
 supplying the more sparsely populated bush districts 
 with schools and teachers can be readily imagined : and 
 they are solved, in many cases, by expedients that can 
 only be justified by urging that any sort of education is 
 better than none at all. It is no uncommon thing to find 
 a hardworked bush teacher in charge of two schools, and 
 holding classes in each on alternate days of the week. 
 Each school may be attended by from twenty to thirty 
 pupils, their ages ranging from six to sixteen : and how 
 the teacher contrives to maintain order and discipline is 
 a question he alone can answer. Many of the bush 
 children live far away from the lonely little schoolhouse, 
 and have to walk or ride long distances in order to 
 attend. Most of these children have duties to perform at 
 home as well, both before setting out for school and on 
 their return home again. Their education is not accom- 
 plished, therefore, without a very considerable strain 
 being thrown upon both pupils and teachers, and for 
 that reason, perhaps, it is the more highly valued. It 
 is at least certain that residents in remote and sparsely 
 170 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 populated districts make every effort to obtain schools in 
 their neighbourhood, and insist upon the regular attend- 
 ance of their children, wherever possible. 
 
 The difficulty with regard to religious instruction is 
 constantly occurring in connexion with the free schools 
 of Australia. It is a question complicated by the absence 
 of a State Church in Australia, and by the fact that the 
 balance between Roman Catholics, Episcopalians, and 
 the Protestant sects is very even. In some States the 
 instruction is entirely secular, and the duty of providing 
 religious instruction for the children is cast upon their 
 parents. It may be said, however, that with the view of 
 assisting in every way towards the religious instruction of 
 the children, the State places the school buildings at the 
 service of such religious instructors as may choose to use 
 them, after school hours, for the purpose of religious 
 instruction. The scholars who wish to attend may do 
 so, but those who prefer to absent themselves are under 
 no compulsion of any kind. In other States, religious 
 instruction is included in the programme of education, 
 the instruction consisting of the reading aloud of chosen 
 passages from the Bible and works of a moral character. 
 Of the two systems, the former has given the more 
 general satisfaction, and in spite of warm remonstrances 
 from some of the religious bodies, it seems unlikely that 
 any alteration will be made in the free, compulsory, and 
 secular educational system. 
 
 There is nothing exceptional about the course of 
 education provided, unless it is the importance attached 
 to physical drill. All children are drilled, but the elder 
 boys are attached to the Austrahan mihtary forces, by 
 means of the cadet corps. Almost every large school 
 has its band of cadets, who wear neat khaki uniforms 
 and are armed with light rifles, in the use of which they 
 are frequently instructed. Every year these boys have 
 shooting matches, and the scores prove that among the 
 youngsters there are many who have already become 
 skilled marksmen. On leaving school, the cadet can 
 171 
 
Australian Life 
 
 attach himself to a corps better suited to his altered 
 mode of life, and from that body may pass into the 
 Militia force without having suffered his military training 
 to fall into neglect. When the Prince of Wales visited 
 Australia for the opening of the Commonwealth Parlia- 
 ment, four thousand of these cadets took part in a review 
 held at Melbourne. Foreign officers from most of the 
 European armies witnessed the review, and much as they 
 were struck by the appearance of the citizen army of 
 Australia, the cadets moved them to the greatest admira- 
 tion. Owing to this practical system of military drill, 
 there are few young men in Australia at present who do 
 not know something of drill and the use of the rifle. 
 
 Secondary education is almost completely given up to 
 private enterprise, and the result is far from being satis- 
 factory. The exclusive aim of many Australian * private 
 schools ' is to pass as many scholars as possible at the 
 matriculation examination of the State University. This 
 examination has a commercial value, for many banks, 
 insurance offices, and similar institutions make it a sine 
 qua non for entrance into their services. The proportion 
 of matriculated students who afterwards attend University 
 lectures is remarkably small, most of them entering 
 commercial life as soon as they matriculate. The 
 masters of the private schools have, therefore, but one end 
 in view, and many and ingenious are the cramming 
 systems devised in order to obtain good results at the 
 matriculation. If the advertisements of the private 
 schools may be accepted as a guide, success in this 
 direction is the surest method of obtaining fresh pupils. 
 
 Most of the mining centres have schools of mines, 
 subsidised by Government, where scientific and technical 
 education may be obtained for very moderate fees. The 
 instructors at these mining schools are, as a rule, very 
 competent men, and the courses in such subjects as 
 assaying and mining engineering are of sterling practical 
 worth. To these schools, Australia owes the very 
 thorough and up-to-date methods of mining in practice 
 172 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 on all the more important gold-fields. Indeed, education 
 in Australia has a basis that is nothing if not practical 
 and commercial. At the Universities this side is ever 
 uppermost, the majority of the students attending lectures 
 for the sole purpose of qualifying for professions. As 
 far as the male students are concerned, this statement 
 has almost a universal application : their object is to 
 obtain the necessary degree as quickly as possible, and 
 to begin at once the practice of some profession. Some 
 of the female students who sit in the same lecture-rooms 
 are probably less commercial in their pursuit of know- 
 ledge, and in them the professors find their ideal pupils, 
 who follow learning for learning's sake alone. But if the 
 Australian Universities are hampered in their aspirations 
 by the practical and utilitarian nature of the young 
 community in which they exist, it must also be said that 
 they make little or no effort to reach the classes who 
 might be inspired by a genuine desire for higher 
 education. They exercise as little influence as could 
 be expected from conservative institutions in a demo- 
 cratic community, and have become strangely out of 
 sympathy with Australian life and Australian ideals. 
 
 The Australian Press is an educational force more 
 closely in sympathy with the people. It has been said 
 that a people gets just as good newspapers as it deserves, 
 and if that be true, the deserts of the Australian people 
 must be high. It has to be remembered, however, that 
 the dailies and weeklies of the Commonwealth are more 
 than news sheets and political organs, since they partly 
 fill the gap created by the absence of any representative 
 Australian magazine or review. Each of the capital 
 cities maintains two or more daily papers comparable 
 to any similar productions in the world. To preserve 
 the mean between accuracy, dignity, and decorum on 
 one side, and dulness on the other, is a task that is yearly 
 becoming more difficult to the newspaper editor, but it 
 can fairly be said that the Australian daily papers are 
 neither dull nor unduly sensational. For the people of 
 173 
 
Australian Life 
 
 the bush, weekly editions are prepared, containing — in 
 addition to a restifne of the week's news — much useful 
 matter pertaining to agricultural and pastoral affairs. 
 London letters, serial stories by the best writers, illustra- 
 tions of the events of the week, and many other features 
 are also included. The arrival of these weekly budgets 
 is an event upon the station or selection, and the interest 
 they create furnishes an explanation of the fact that the 
 average bushrnan is far from being a rustic, but is very 
 often closer abreast of the times than the man in the street. 
 Even more characteristic of Australian life are the 
 weekly satirical and society papers, and among these the 
 Bulklift is by far the ablest and most influential. To 
 describe the Bulletin merely as a satirical and society 
 paper is to do it a very grave injustice. By no mere 
 tricks of satire and news-gathering can any paper sway 
 part of a nation, and this, by its deadly earnestness, great 
 ability, and ferociously plain speech, the Bulletin has 
 continued to do for many years. The most talented 
 artists and the brightest writers of all Australia are in its 
 service, and nowhere in the world is a political situation 
 better expressed in a clever cartoon, or a newly proposed 
 legislative measure more ably reduced, in a small space, 
 to perfect lucidity and simplicity. It is not contended 
 for one moment that the whole policy of the Bulletin 
 commends itself to one-half of its regular readers, for it 
 frankly advocates the independence of Australia under a 
 republican form of government. But the Australian who 
 is content with things as they are, or even desires some 
 closer connexion with the Motherland, cannot afford to 
 do without his Bulletin for this reason. For the paper 
 is at once the most interesting chronicler of Australian 
 matters and the most trustworthy guide in Commonwealth 
 affairs. Other papers have, unfortunately, strong pro- 
 vincial leanings, but the Bulletin steadfastly sets the 
 national question before all others, and so commands the 
 respect and admiration of the many nationalists among 
 the young Australians. 
 
 174 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 The Bulletin renders a further service to AustraUa 
 by its sympathetic encouragement of Australian Hterature 
 and art. ' There is no Austrahan Hterature,' wrote the 
 editor of a serious London review to an Austrahan 
 writer who offered him an article upon that subject. 
 This is a hard saying, and as to its truth or otherwise it 
 would be useless to contend. It is certain that the path 
 of literature, rough and painful as it is to the beginner in 
 any land, bristles in Australia with obstacles that will 
 disappear when the country is older. 
 
 Reference has been already made to the absence of 
 any notable Australian magazine or review. Numbers 
 of such publications have been launched, and none have 
 failed for want of writers of ability, or subjects of im- 
 portance and interest. Their failure has been a financial 
 one, and due, in the first place, to the expense of printing 
 and publication in a country where wages are high, 
 materials are dear, and the circle of appreciative readers 
 is small. Such publications have had to compete with the 
 magazines and reviews of England and America, produced 
 under circumstances vastly more favourable to cheapness 
 and advertising support. One after another they have 
 dwindled and died. The Australian publishing firms 
 have contended with the same adverse circumstances, 
 heightened by the fact that the Australian market is 
 flooded by cheap ' colonial ' editions of the newest books 
 published in i^ondon. Thus for three and sixpence one 
 may buy in Australia c^ copy of one of Kipling's volumes 
 of poems, the cheapest edition of which costs six shillings 
 in London. The Australian belief in protecting local 
 industries has not yet reached the stage of a scheme to 
 encourage the Australian author and publisher, and at 
 the present time the author finds the easiest and most 
 profitable method of pubHcation in London. To this 
 Mecca many Australians of promise have gone, in time 
 to lose touch with Australia, and to devote themselves 
 to subjects of closer interest to the wider public they 
 address. 
 
 175 
 
Australian Life 
 
 Had it not been for the Bulletin^ the history of the 
 last fifteen years would certainly have confirmed the 
 dictum of the London editor. The pages of the Bulletin 
 have always been open to writers of Australian verse and 
 prose stories or sketches of moderate length. 
 
 Literary ability and Australian interest are the two 
 essentials for publication in the Bulletin^ and verse and 
 story alike have to be racy of the soil. The Bulletin 
 writers have chosen for their theme the varied aspects of 
 bush life — the life of the shearing shed and the cattle 
 camp, the race-course, the mines, and the bush track. 
 The works of the more popular of these writers have 
 been collected and published in book form, and are now 
 familiar in town and country alike. Henry Lawson, 
 A. B. Paterson, Edward Dyson, Barcroft Boake, Victor 
 Daley, Will Ogilvie, Roderick Quinn, and a number of 
 others bear names as well known in the bush as those of 
 the standard English poets. Their influence in the main 
 is invigorating, as any influence must be that tends to 
 make the Australian more keenly alive to the interest 
 and beauty of the land he lives in. This school of 
 Australian literature succeeds an earlier group of writers 
 whose names are more familiar to British readers. Chief 
 among them were Adam Lindsay Gordon, Henry Kendall, 
 Marcus Clarke, ' Orion ' Home, and J. Brunton Stephens, 
 all of whom are now dead. 
 
 The Australian theatre is almost an exact counterpart 
 of the theatre in Great Britain. The buildings are 
 designed on the same lines, with but little regard for the 
 coolness and ventilation necessary in such a climate, and 
 one may see, as in the English provinces, the latest 
 London success enacted by a company of London 
 players. Save for a few melodramas, and dramatic 
 versions of well-known Australian novels, such as 
 * Robbery under Arms,' or ' His Natural Life,' the 
 Australian drama does not yet exist. Music-halls there 
 are, but, robbed of attractions in the shape of per- 
 mission to smoke and consume alcoholic liquor on the 
 
 176 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 premises, they do not enter into so keen a rivalry with 
 the legitimate theatre as in other countries. The taste 
 for light opera and musical comedy, so marked a develop- 
 ment in the theatrical preference of Great Britain and 
 America during recent years, is even more noticeable in 
 Australia, where grand opera is also popular among the 
 people. The universal love of music which makes this 
 possible also accounts for the frequency and the success 
 of ballad concerts, and these, rather than the music-halls, 
 are the rivals the theatrical manager has to fear. 
 
 The Australian artist complains, with good reason, of 
 the discouraging conditions in which he works. Large 
 sums have been spent in the foundation of public art 
 galleries, but a mere driblet of this money has been 
 devoted to locally painted canvases. In connexion with 
 some of these galleries a fund exists for providing young 
 artists of promise with the means of study in Europe, 
 and the expenditure of this money has almost an in- 
 variable result. Having once come into touch with the 
 world's art centres, the artist does not find it easy to 
 return to the practical and commercial world of Australia, 
 so that, up to the present, these travelHng scholarships 
 have done more for Australian artists than for Australian 
 art. 
 
 At present London proves an irresistible magnet for 
 Australians following the artistic professions, and it will 
 be many years before this migration can be expected to 
 cease. Even if the Australian community were less 
 commercial and more artistic, London would still offer 
 a wider sphere, and more congenial surroundings as well 
 as larger rewards. It is not in Australia, then, but in 
 London that the successful painters, singers, authors, and 
 actors expect to crown their careers, and so long as this 
 remains true, the growth of art that is distinctively 
 Australian must necessarily be slow. 
 
 177 
 
Australian Life 
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 NATIONAL LIFE IN AUSTRALIA 
 
 The average Briton has always been content to class 
 Queenslanders and Tasmanians alike as Australians, and 
 more loosely to include even a New Zealander in the 
 same description, owing to a natural confusion of the 
 w^ords Australia and Australasia. He, therefore, finds 
 extreme difficulty in grasping the distinctions that grew 
 up in Australia with the granting of separate constitutions 
 to the various States, and the consequent checks ex- 
 perienced by the statesmen who undertook the task of 
 wielding these States into a Commonwealth. Even to 
 indicate the whole of these distinctions would be a note- 
 worthy task, but a significant feature of them was the tariff 
 retaliation brought about by differences in fiscal policy. 
 How far these differences injured the progress of Australia 
 was conclusively shown in the first three years of the 
 existence of the Commonwealth, by the expansion of 
 inter-State trade following the removal of the customs 
 barriers. 
 
 Instances of rivalry between neighbouring communities 
 of the sarne race are not uncommon in the history of the 
 world, but Australia has furnished a unique example of 
 the length to which these unreasoning jealousies can be 
 carried. Lest the products of one division of a State 
 should find their natural outlet at the seaport of a neigh- 
 bour, the construction of a long and expensive railway 
 would be undertaken, and an annual loss be incurred in 
 178 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 its working and maintenance. Indeed, the railways of 
 Australia remain a standing illustration of the injurious 
 results of this provincialism. The traveller from New 
 South Wales to Victoria must leave his train on the 
 border line, and enter another, because the railway lines 
 of the two States have different gauges. Another break 
 of gauge occurs at the boundary between Victoria and 
 South Australia; and as a result of this failure in co- 
 operation, a huge sum will have to be spent at some 
 time in standardising the railway gauges. If a reason be 
 sought for the neglect in conserving the waters of the 
 river Murray for purposes of irrigation, it will be found 
 in the fact that this river, the most important in all 
 Australia, forms the boundary between two States, and 
 finds its outlet in a third. Instances could be multiplied 
 to show how State jealousies have retarded Australian 
 progress. 
 
 In the days when this provincialism was at its worst, 
 there nevertheless existed aspirations for a wider national 
 life. Societies were formed with the object of fostering 
 a national spirit, and one of these organisations exercises 
 no small influence upon the everyday life of Austraha at 
 the present time. The Australian Natives' Association was 
 founded at a time when British statesmen regarded the 
 Colonies as a burden, and the word * colonial ' was em- 
 ployed as conveying a meaning of inferiority. Even in 
 Australia, where the proportion of British-born folk was 
 then greater than at present, colonial wines, colonial 
 boots, and colonial customs were openly despised. 
 
 To combat this tendency to undervalue Australian 
 things^ a number of young men, who were proud of their 
 Australian birth, formed the Australian Natives' Associa- 
 tion. Among them were Sir George Turner, Treasurer 
 in the first Commonwealth Ministry, Mr. J. L. Purves, 
 leader of the Melbourne Bar, and a number of others 
 afterwards prominent in Australian political and pro- 
 fessional life. The avowed object of the Association 
 was to make the native-born Australian proud of his 
 179 
 
Australian Life 
 
 country, and to encourage Australian manufactures, 
 Australian art, Australian literature, and everything else 
 Australian. 
 
 Each branch of the Association combines the fimctions 
 of a benefit lodge with those of a debating society. 
 Meetings are arranged at regular intervals, when the 
 members first transact the business of the branch and 
 then discuss some chosen subject, usually Australian 
 in interest. Every member who shares the benefit 
 system of the Association pays a weekly levy, amounting 
 to a little more than a shilling. This assures him medical 
 attendance and medicine when sickness comes into his 
 house, a weekly allowance, should he himself be prevented 
 from attending to his business by illness, and a provision 
 for his fitting burial after death. This sick and funeral 
 fund represents the business side of the Australian 
 Natives' Association, and is really responsible for the 
 continuance of its growth and the extension of its 
 influence. 
 
 There comes a time in the history of many such 
 associations when enthusiasm dwindles, and sentimental 
 or political discussions no longer draw crowds of eager 
 debaters. Then the rent of halls and the very cost of 
 postage and stationery become too heavy a tax on the 
 remainder, if remainder there be. All over the world, 
 how many societies were founded for national or educa- 
 tional purposes, which enjoyed for a time more or less 
 influence on public affairs, and then passed away ! But 
 the Australian Natives' Association, though interest in 
 public affairs may flag, can never die. Its halls are 
 hired, its postage paid by the business department. In 
 every locality where a branch is established, it begins to 
 accumulate wealth. Twelve or fifteen-pence per week, 
 from perhaps twenty members, soon mounts up, and 
 those twenty members do not fail to keep up their pay- 
 ments merely because they have become tired of affirm- 
 ing that * this branch resents the interference of France 
 in the New Hebrides.' The weekly levies are funded 
 i8o 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 according to an Act known as the Friendly Societies 
 Act, a portion being available for management. From 
 this portion a fee — not extravagant, but still a fee — is set 
 aside for the secretary, and this stipend some pushing 
 young man is glad to earn by a few hours' night work 
 each week. So, when the Australian Natives' Associa- 
 tion wakes up to the importance of some national 
 question, it finds the halls open and lighted, and its 
 stipendiary secretary waiting to receive the orators of 
 Young Australia. 
 
 Many of the branches become the possessors of a few 
 hundreds of trust monies, which they invest in local 
 property. The management of these funds and of the 
 property affords congenial occupation to a few, and it 
 generally happens that the secretary is not entirely alone 
 when the orators of Young Australia arrive. Each branch 
 sends two delegates to an annual conference, at which 
 a board of directors and a president are elected. This 
 conference is the parliament of the Association, and the 
 young men with political aspirations contrive to be 
 chosen as delegates. Its agenda is a pamphlet, the 
 president's address is a volume, and the debates would, 
 if published, fill an ordinary library shelf. It is not all 
 empty talk, for the professional Australian native, in the 
 main, is a practical and sensible person. He is certainly 
 a person to be reckoned with, just as the association to 
 which he belongs is a force in Australian affairs. Dele- 
 gate to the conference to-day, the year after next he may 
 easily be a Cabinet Minister. 
 
 The intending member must declare that he was bom 
 in Australia, or at sea en route to Australia. The 
 Association has frequently been assailed because it rigidly 
 excludes all persons born in other lands. ' I came here 
 of my own free will,' declared one who had been pro- 
 nounced without the pale. 'Am I not therefore a 
 better lover of the country ? I came by choice, not by 
 accident at birth.' To which a prominent 'native' 
 replied, ' The prophet of old worshipped with his 
 
Australian Life 
 
 windows open towards Jerusalem, and in Australia, when 
 English, Scotch, and Irish folk speak of " home," they 
 mean some part of the United Kingdom. They wor- 
 ship with their windows open toward Jerusalem.' 
 
 The Australian Natives' Association's method of foster- 
 ing a national spirit is therefore to deal at first hand 
 with the native-born, who have no mental or emotional 
 reservations in favour of some green land across the sea. 
 The title of the organisation is so confusing that at least 
 one historian of Australia, writing from his chair in the 
 British Museum, allowed himself to comment upon the 
 enthusiasm of the Australian aborigines in the cause of 
 Australian unity. He was so far right that the member- 
 ship of the Association is not denied to the autoch- 
 thonous Australian, but diligent inquiry has failed to 
 procure evidence of even one aboriginal member. 
 
 The founders of the society had another reason for 
 confining its membership to those of native birth. It is 
 an excellent reason from a business point of view, and 
 has to do with the sick and funeral fund. In a country 
 newly settled, the native born are all young, with the 
 prospect of long and healthy lives before them. This 
 was the case with Australia when the Australian Natives' 
 Association was founded. Its members were recruited 
 from among the hale youths of the first generation of the 
 Victorian born, the best possible constituency for a 
 benefit society. The men who wanted to build up a 
 sound and substantial funeral fund displayed astuteness in 
 passing by the elder men born in Great Britain, who 
 were not only less whole-souled in their allegiance to 
 Australian ideals, but less eligible as benefit members. 
 
 Among the functions of the Association is the celebra- 
 tion of the Australian national holiday. This is Anni- 
 versary Day, the commemoration of the landing of 
 Captain Phillip on January 26, 1788. Accordingly the 
 Australian Natives' Association holds its annual fUe on 
 each 26th of January. Prizes are offered in all depart- 
 ments of art, literature, and athletics. The budding 
 182 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 singers, musicians, and artists of Australia compete in 
 one part of the Melbourne Exhibition Building, while 
 foot and cycle races are going on in the arena outside. 
 There are prizes for reciting, prizes for debating, and 
 prizes for literary composition, in prose and verse. The 
 organisation of this annual celebration is carried out in 
 the practical and effective manner that characterises the 
 whole management of the society, and certainly points to 
 considerable business ability among its controllers. 
 
 Many of the branches reproduce this/^/^ on a smaller 
 scale, especially those existing in country towns of the 
 second rank. In such places the Association is a centre 
 of social activity, holding debates, concerts, dances, and 
 other functions, and contributing largely to the amusements 
 of the little community. The chief of these functions is 
 undoubtedly the competition, which interests the parents 
 and friends who form the audience, as well as the young 
 people who take part in it. 
 
 Beginning in a modest way in Melbourne the Association 
 has now extended its influence throughout Australia, 
 although its chief stronghold is still the State of Victoria. 
 Its membership is open to both sexes, and while officially 
 denying partisanship with any creed or party, the Associ- 
 ation itself has become at once a creed and a party. When 
 the proper time came it was able to render assistance to 
 the cause of Australian unity, a cause reflecting the very 
 spirit of the founders of the society. 
 
 The most serious obstacle to Australian unity was the 
 State rivalry already referred to, and this was only over- 
 come by the expedient of referring the question to the 
 people for settlement. The result of the popular refer- 
 endum showed that a large majority of Australians were 
 in favour of federation, although the minority in opposi- 
 tion cannot be described as negligible. Serious difficulties 
 in the way of a complete federation were found in the 
 differences in the development of the separate States : 
 some had borrowed more freely than others ; some had 
 parted with a larger proportion of the State lands, or had 
 
 183 
 
Australian Life 
 
 exploited their mineral wealth more fully ; and finally, the 
 States with small populations were in fear of being domi- 
 nated by those more populous. For these reasons, the 
 Federal Constitution defines the functions of the Common- 
 wealth Parliament in detail, and expressly declares that 
 all other functions belong to the State Legislatures. By 
 amending the constitution the Commonwealth Parliament 
 is able to increase the functions it at present exercises, 
 and so to diminish the functions of the State Parlia- 
 ments. 
 
 This is not very interesting, perhaps, but it has to be 
 understood if the change in Australian life wrought by 
 the Federation is to be appreciated at all. The State 
 Parliaments still exist, and still retain most important 
 functions. The number of members in each State 
 Assembly is disproportionately large, although reductions 
 have been made in most State Legislatures since the 
 accomplishment of Federation. The member of a State 
 Assembly may represent but a few hundred voters, spread 
 over a sparsely populated district, with insatiable require- 
 ments in the matter of bridges, schools, and post-offices. 
 His constituents are continually urging these requirements 
 upon him, and it too often happens that the State member 
 considers his electorate first, and the interests of Australia 
 last. The Commonwealth House of Representatives 
 affords a striking contrast. It contains fewer members than 
 the Legislative Assembly of New South Wales, but some 
 of these members represent electorates larger in area than 
 the United Kingdom, since the number of representatives 
 returned by each State is proportionate to its population. 
 Thus Western Australia, with an area of 975,000 square 
 miles, returns only five members to the House of Repre- 
 sentatives ; while Victoria, 88,000 miles in extent, returns 
 twenty-three. The Senate, on the other hand, contains 
 an equal number of members from each State, and serves 
 to guard the less populous States from being overruled 
 by those older and more powerful. From the very 
 outset, the meeting and deliberations of this Parliament 
 
 184 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 had the anticipated effect of broadening the Australian 
 outlook. For the first time the requirements of tropical 
 Austraha were considered in conjunction with those of 
 the temperate South ; East was balanced against West ; 
 and Young Australia realised with a gasp how vast were 
 the considerations affecting national life. It was a 
 heavy blow directed at provincialism, but provincialism 
 is dying hard. 
 
 A striking example of the conflict between national 
 and State interests is afforded in the question of fixing 
 the site of the proposed Australian capital — a question 
 still unsettled at the time these words were written. 
 The proposal to build a new capital city in one of the 
 most favoured parts of Australia was welcomed by all, 
 both as a means of compromise between the rival claims 
 of Sydney and Melbourne, and because it would create 
 a national centre apart from the influence of any State 
 section. It was, therefore, provided that a site should be 
 chosen in the State of New South Wales, at least a 
 hundred miles from Sydney, and with a minimum area of 
 one hundred square miles, for the creation of a Common- 
 wealth capital. When the question of determining the site 
 came before the House of Representatives, the members 
 representing the State of New South Wales made an en- 
 deavour to have a place called Lyndhurst, one hundred 
 miles north of Sydney, chosen for the capital. The attempt 
 failed, and selection was narrowed down to two places 
 both equidistant from Melbourne and Sydney. One of 
 these is Tumut, on an elevated plateau inland, the other, 
 Bombala, near the coast and communicating with the 
 seaport of Eden, on Twofold Bay. In the House of 
 Representatives, where the vote of the New South Wales 
 and Victorian delegates preponderates, the choice fell 
 upon Tumut, possibly from the fear of creating at Eden 
 a rival port to Sydney and Melbourne. When this 
 choice was referred to the Senate for approval, Bombala 
 was at once substituted for Tumut, the explanation being 
 that the less populous and more distant States naturally 
 185 
 
Australian Life 
 
 wished the capital to be near a seaport town, and they 
 were able to give effect to their wishes in the Chamber 
 where all States have equal representation. Parliament 
 was soon afterwards dissolved without the dispute having 
 been settled, but the incident is recounted here as 
 showing how the old State rivalries still affect national 
 questions, and also how a safeguard to the less powerful 
 States is constituted by the Senate. 
 
 The creation of a Federal capital, where no State 
 influence is paramount, suggests fresh possibiUties to the 
 Australian, and especially to the Australian of the bush, 
 who has been for so long ruled for the benefit of the 
 capital of his State. The idea of an undertaking entered 
 upon, not for the good of Brisbane, or Sydney, or 
 Adelaide, but for the good of Australia, is a new one, 
 but it is none the less pleasant. Perth, the capital of 
 Western Australia, has no railway communication with 
 the eastern States. The people of Western Australia 
 might build a railway, reaching to the border line of South 
 Australia, without in any way ameliorating their isolated 
 position. South Australia is intent upon a railway con- 
 necting Adelaide on its southern coast with Palmerston 
 in the North, and in the meantime is unwilling to extend 
 railway communication westward and join hands with its 
 neighbour there. Before the Federation it would not 
 have been possible to move the South Australians from 
 their position, but the question has now become one 
 to be decided on its national merits by the national 
 Parliament. 
 
 The provincialists in Australia have watched the 
 growing prestige of the Commonwealth Legislature with 
 dismay. In the third year of the Commonwealth, 
 motions were tabled in some of the State Parliaments 
 affirming the desirability of secession, and were promptly 
 laughed into oblivion. Enthusiastic gentlemen who 
 have organised secession movements in the capital 
 cities have been regarded in the light of a.miah\e /arcenrs. 
 It has now become certain that the aspiration for 
 i86 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 national life was no momentary enthusiasm of the 
 Australian people but a deep-rooted sentiment, and it is 
 to the national Parliament that the Australians look to 
 free them from the financial embarrassment resulting 
 from many years of State maladministration. 
 
 187 
 
Australian Life 
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 THE AUSTRALIAN 
 
 Some time ago a London paper published, as a season- 
 able supplement, a coloured picture entitled * Christmas in 
 Australia.' It represented a bearded man in red flannel 
 shirt and top-boots, sitting alone in a log-hut, grasping a 
 large packet of letters. His eyes were closed and he 
 was dreaming. Lest this fact should not be sufficiently 
 obvious, one corner of the picture was given up to the 
 representation of his dream. It was the home of his 
 boyhood : outside the snow was thick upon the ground, 
 but within the family circle was gathered around the 
 cheerful fire. Venerable parents, golden-haired daughters, 
 and manly sons were effectively grouped, but one vacant 
 chair marked the fact that the family exile was not 
 forgotten. 
 
 It is not the fault of the average Briton that the man 
 in the red shirt represents his conception of the Australian 
 to-day. The globe-trotter is not alone responsible for 
 the notion that the people of Australia are ^ more English 
 than the English,' and that native-born Australians, who 
 have never seen the British Islands, are nevertheless 
 accustomed to speak of them as ^honie.' The im- 
 pression is confirmed by many of the Australians who 
 visit England, and especially by the Australian politician 
 whose eloquence is inspired by the theme of colonial 
 loyalty, and the absentee landlord who spends in London 
 the income derived from his Australian possessions. 
 
 i88 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 These people are largely responsible for the fiction of the 
 * colonist ' whose interests, as well as his allegiance, are 
 altogether in the keeping of the Motherland. 
 
 The real Australian is no unwilling exile. The day- 
 is not far distant when an Australian paper will publish 
 a companion picture entitled * Christmas in England.' 
 It will show a tall, lean, clean-shaven man, correctly 
 and uncomfortably clad, cowering over a dull fire in a 
 Bloomsbury boarding-house. It is midday, though the 
 gas is lighted, and he has just discovered by a visit to 
 the street door that there is an inch of slush on the pave- 
 ment, and that fog prevents his seeing across the narrow 
 street. So the Australian falls a-dreaming. His first 
 dream — for he has many — is of a tree-dotted plain, warm 
 with joyous sunlight. Far away as the eye can carry 
 through the pure clear air, the skyline ends the day in a 
 low blue rampart of hills ; but his imagination ranges far 
 beyond those to the very centre of the vast unknown 
 continent that is his birthright. Yes, and though the 
 dreamer see as many visions as the goblins showed to 
 Gabriel Grub, not one of them but shall concern his 
 own Australia. 
 
 There is nothing in this Australian attitude that is 
 inconsistent with the loyalty to Imperial ideals that 
 Australia has proved by more than mere words. The 
 most aggressively Australian paper in the whole continent 
 is careful to explain that it is not anti-British, but only 
 pro- Australian. The ordinary Australian finds it easy 
 enough to be pro-British and pro-Australian at one and 
 the same time. From the Imperial as well as the 
 Australian point of view this is a distinct advance upon 
 the days when it was correct for Australians to be pro- 
 British only, and to disparage all the things that they 
 termed ' Colonial.' The reaction was inevitable in 
 time, but it has come about without any weakening of 
 the race sentiment that is the strongest tie between the 
 Colonies and the Motherland. This desirable consum- 
 mation speaks eloquently of the wisdom and sagacity of 
 189 
 
Australian Life 
 
 Imperial administration, as well as the common sense 
 that is so strong a characteristic of the Australian. 
 
 The seasons, the climate, and the fauna and flora of 
 Australia are all united in a conspiracy against the 
 Australian remaining *more English than the English.' 
 I can still remember that the most pronounced effect of 
 the British books and poetry I read when at school was 
 to convince me of the unreality of literature. 'Chill 
 October ' was to me the gladdest month of the year, 
 when the bush was flecked with light and deep yellow, 
 and the aromatic air was fragrant with all woodland 
 smells. Even in the city streets the groves of eucalyptus 
 trees were swarming with honey-questing parrakeets, that 
 flashed screaming from one blossom-laden tree to another 
 like living jewels. Why, then, did the poet write so 
 sadly of chill October ? 
 
 * Tom Brown's Schooldays ' was more interesting, but 
 those schoolboy heroes played football with a brazen 
 disregard of all rules, as we knew the game. (Later on, 
 I found it diflicult to reconcile an acquaintance with the 
 history of Rome, Greece, and England with my total 
 ignorance of the history of my native country.) All 
 reading, all learning had to be accompanied by a set 
 of mental adjustments. If the native-born Australian is 
 to be accused of scepticism and irreverence, it must be 
 said in his behalf that he was accustomed from his child- 
 hood upwards to read and be taught things that, in the 
 circumstances, were misleading and untrue. Teaching 
 is better now, and text-books are specially prepared for 
 the Australian schools. The children so educated are 
 the less likely to speak of Great Britain as * home.' 
 
 More than eighty per cent, of the present inhabitants 
 of Australia were born there, and very few of these can 
 expect to have the opportunity of making the twelve 
 thousand mile journey to the Motherland. Not only is 
 Australia far distant from the centre of Empire, it 
 occupies the most isolated position among all the conti- 
 nents. As a result of this isolation, the Australian has a 
 
 190 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 tendency to become too completely engrossed in local 
 affairs. The Australian Press, more cosmopolitan than 
 the Australian people, devotes a large amount of space 
 to the outside world, and still contrives to leaven the 
 self-absorption of the Australian. But the pride and 
 patriotism of the native-born have been focussed by the 
 last step taken, when provincialism was renounced for a 
 national life. He is now inclined to think so well of his 
 birthplace that he plans to keep it entirely to himself, 
 and raises a cry of * Australia for the Australians : ' — not 
 ' Australia for the white man,' nor * Australia for the 
 Empire,' let it be observed. In a recent conversation 
 with an Australian friend, who was paying a visit to 
 London, I obtained from him a curious admission. ' As 
 far as I can see,' he declared, * Australia has nothing 
 whatever to learn from Great Britain, but there is much 
 that Great Britain might learn from Australia.' The 
 speaker was an able Pressman, occupying a responsible 
 position, and in the Australian sphere of life anything 
 but a narrow-minded egotist. And his attitude, extreme 
 though it be, is surely preferable in every way to that of 
 the AustraHans of a generation ago, many of whom were 
 highly gratified when some polite person would feign to 
 mistake them for Fnglishmen. 
 
 The restlessness which forms so dominant a keynote 
 to Australian character is obviously inherited. The 
 founders of the race were men of enterprise and 
 adventure, drawn across the seas by tales of a new land 
 with possibilities indefinitely wide, or by dreams of easily 
 won gold. As one of the Australian poets * has 
 written — 
 
 * Our fathers came of roving stock 
 That could not fixed abide, 
 And we have followed field and flock 
 Since e'er we learnt to ride. 
 
 * Mr. A. B. Paterson. 
 191 
 
Australian Life. 
 
 By miners' camp and shearing shed, 
 
 In land of heat and drought, 
 We followed where our fortunes led, 
 
 With fortune always on ahead, 
 
 And always further out.* 
 
 The Australian is consequently a man of many places 
 and of many occupations. He will abandon his settled 
 avocation and assured income at a moment's notice in 
 order to enter upon a new life that seems to afford 
 possibilities of increased prosperity. He can become 
 prospector, company promoter, journalist, or trader in 
 turn, in the end to fall back upon his original occupation. 
 Even his own great continent of three million square 
 miles does not contain him, and at the hint of prosperity 
 elsewhere he is off to South Africa, or Argentine, or any 
 other spot far enough away or little enough known to 
 hold attractions for him. The lust of wandering takes 
 possession of him, and on a reasonable excuse he must 
 gratify it. 
 
 This restlessness is accentuated by the uncertainty of 
 the conditions under which he lives. Change meets the 
 Australian at every turn : he never knows what a year 
 may bring forth. Two good seasons convert the land 
 into a smiling paradise, gladdening the eyes of man with 
 pictures of easy prosperity and happy animal life. Two 
 dry years make it a desolate hell, horrible with sights 
 and sounds of dead and dying animals : unsightly, for- 
 bidding, and altogether sordid. The year's work of the 
 settler is at the mercy of the seasons, he lives for ever in 
 dread of drought, flood, bush fire, and those plagues of 
 rabbits and locusts that are continually descending upon 
 him. The cities, too, are quick to feel the pinch of 
 bad seasons with their consequent scarcity of employ- 
 ment and increase in the price of commodities. There- 
 fore every Australian State has its percentage of floating 
 population that flies at the approach of * bad times ' to 
 seek easier conditions within the borders of a neighbour- 
 ing State. 
 
 192 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 This uncertainty has bred in the Australian a taste for 
 speculation and a fine courage in the face of adversity. 
 He has learned to count the risks, and makes an excellent 
 loser. To have planned and toiled for nothing is but 
 part of the game of life, and a fresh start must be made 
 with a stout heart, and as often as not with a jest upon 
 his lips. But the Australian counts his possible gains as 
 well, and in this respect is gifted with a vivid imagination. 
 He is not always a good winner, being easily puffed up 
 by the first breath of prosperity. Land booms, mining 
 Dooms, and even booms in butter and sugar production 
 are the frequent result of this over-confidence, and the 
 effects of the bursting of an Australian boom are fraught 
 with an infinity of disaster. When such calamities occur 
 it is impossible to avoid a feeling of wonder at the extent 
 to which men reputed shrewd and far-seeing have allowed 
 themselves to become involved. It is equally impossible 
 to refrain from admiring the courage and self-reliance 
 shown by men approaching and past the middle age, in 
 marking out for themselves fresh careers, and facing 
 once more the vicissitudes of life in surroundings so 
 inconstant. 
 
 This familiarity with misfortune makes the Australian 
 tolerant and sympathetic. Where prosperity is so often the 
 result of circumstances rather than merit, poverty is not so 
 hastily set down as the sign of lack either of industry or 
 ability. Men speak of their reverses with a ready frank- 
 ness that betokens an absence of fear of condemnation, 
 and recount their successes with an equal readiness. 
 On this score the Australian lays himself open to a 
 charge of boastfulness, and those who fail to understand 
 his interest in his neighbours as well as in himself may 
 readily be pardoned for holding that view. But the 
 friendliness and helpfulness of the Australian, when once 
 experienced, are sadly missed by those who are after- 
 wards called upon to encounter the reserve and suspicion 
 of older countries. 
 
 Underlying the Australian's breezy communicativeness 
 193 o 
 
Australian Life 
 
 there is a strange vein of shyness, and his tolerance and 
 friendliness are tinged with a scepticism and cynicism 
 not entirely youthful. His shyness he strives to conceal 
 by bluster, his scepticism is made evident by his readiness 
 to find fault. ' If Patti came to Australia,' declared an 
 exasperated entrepreneiLi\ ^ they would set about criticising 
 her at once.' Quite right, that is the first thing they 
 would do. There is no place in the world where an 
 outside reputation is of less value than in Australia. 
 
 * The things that never happen, and the things that never could, 
 Are engraved upon the tombstones of the men who never would,' 
 
 says one of their verse writers, and, with some exaggera- 
 tion, the lines sum up the first Australian attitude towards 
 everything not yet proven in Australia. This attitude is 
 not infrequently the prelude to an appreciative acceptance 
 that condones, by its fulness and warmheartedness, for 
 all preliminary doubts. When once convinced, the 
 Australian knows no half measures in his appreciation. 
 
 Life in Australia, and especially in the Australian 
 bush, is made attractive by the existent spirit of comrade- 
 ship. Staunchness is the pet virtue of the man of the 
 bush, and the deadliest sin in his moral code is com- 
 mitted by the man who * turned dog' upon his mates. 
 
 * Mate ' is the most engaging form of address in the bush, 
 just as * Mister ' denotes aloofness tinged with no little 
 suspicion. Services that money could not buy are 
 rendered willingly and cheerfully by neighbour to neigh- 
 bour, and that without any loss of the feeling of indepen- 
 dence that is the bushman's most treasured attribute. It 
 is curious to notice how completely this feeling of com- 
 radeship has been accepted throughout the bush. The 
 solitary swagman is at considerable pains to account for 
 the absence of his * mate,' whose existence somewhere is 
 regarded as the natural complement of his own being. 
 Two such mates may work the country together, sharing 
 good and evil fortune alike. Each may be ignorant of 
 the other's life story, and even of his very name — for 
 
 194 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 nicknames and contractions do much hard service in the 
 bush — yet all their interests and possessions are in 
 common. Not infrequently one man may obtain a few 
 days' work where the other can find none, when his mate 
 will camp close at hand, and the money earned will be 
 regarded by both as a common possession. Acquaintance 
 with a bushman's mate constitutes a strong claim upon 
 his ready and immediate friendship. The man without a 
 mate is a ^hatter,' an eccentric person who cannot be 
 quite right in his head. 
 
 No sketch of the Australian character could be made 
 without reference to Australian political belief, for, as 
 already shown, politics are a large part of the everyday 
 life of Australia. Nowhere in the world is there a more 
 thorough belief in the efficacy of State intervention. The 
 Australian pays his politicians, and is accustomed to lay 
 all his misfortunes at their door. He knows no foreign 
 questions, and many matters that are elsewhere burning 
 questions have already been settled for him. It was 
 said that during the Commonwealth elections of 1903 
 each State was agitated by a different question, the issue 
 in Queensland being fought on lines entirely remote 
 from those affecting Tasmania. In the absence of broad 
 dividing principles the Australian applies to his politicians 
 the test of his own convenience and prosperity. A mis- 
 placed school or a bridge unbuilt has cut short the 
 career of many a promising politician. Good seasons 
 and prosperous conditions mean long-lived Administra- 
 tions and political indifference; but when bad times 
 come, they bring rapid changes of Government and much 
 political fervour. At such times the Australian approaches 
 the ballot box in a spirit of optimism, determining 
 to give the other side a chance, in the forlorn hope 
 that his ideals of government may yet be realised. 
 This introduction of the speculative spirit into the realm 
 of politics shows the Australian in all his weakness, and 
 his chqerful endurance of the calamities that follow only 
 partly justifies him. 
 
 195 
 
Australian Life 
 
 Living in the almost continual presence of sunshine 
 the Australian is naturally cheerful and good-humoured. 
 V Although subject to change his life holds no extreme of 
 poverty and want, no abyss into which he may be 
 plunged without the possibility of emerging. The signs 
 of hardship and suffering are not always before his eyes, 
 nor has he to contend with the class distinctions that 
 serve elsewhere to advance those who are already * up,' 
 and deter those who are * down ' from rising. He learns 
 initiative from observing that those who have risen owe 
 their success to opportunities deftly seized, while courage 
 in the face of failure is his unalienable birthright. Each 
 of his fellows is potentially an easily made friend, 
 charitable of his failings and appreciative of his virtues. 
 Circumstances and surroundings have combined to create 
 of him an industrial Bohemian, with the Bohemian fail- 
 ings of thriftlessness and lack of prudence. With 
 borrowed money he has provided his big cities with 
 every modern convenience of necessity and luxury, and 
 with borrowed money constructed long railways in order 
 that they may be fed by the country behind them. Now, 
 just when the prospect of a broader national life lies 
 open before him, he finds his revenues consumed by the 
 heavy burden of interest these developments have entailed. 
 How the Australian will win through the difficulties 
 immediately before him will be interesting to see, but 
 that he will win through them nobody who appreciates 
 his individual courage, energy, and resource can doubt. 
 
 196 
 
15 
 
 D 
 
 < 
 
 u 
 
 o 
 
 H 
 P<j 
 
 W 
 H 
 <! 
 H 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 AUSTRALIA'S DESTINY 
 
 I HAVE Striven to depict the people of Australia busy in 
 the work of developing the resources of their country, 
 secure from all outside influences. The generous measure 
 of self-government which they enjoy permits them to 
 manage their own affairs practically in their own way. 
 The remoteness of their continent, as well as the protec- 
 tion of the world's greatest sea-power, has so far ensured 
 their immunity from outside interference. For more 
 than a century they have worked on undisturbed. The 
 Old World has been torn by wars and revolutions, yet 
 these have meant no more to Australia than so many 
 extra columns of interesting reading matter in the news- 
 papers. There are many Australians who act as though 
 this golden reign of peace would last for ever. 
 
 Yet Australians have had some sharp reminders that 
 their lands are broad and their people few. From time 
 to time some great European Power has coveted one of 
 the many islands that dot the near Pacific waters, and 
 has not stopped short at coveting. American influence 
 in the Sandwich Islands ; German aggression in Samoa, 
 in New Guinea, and last of all in the Marshall Islands ; 
 French interference in New Caledonia and the New 
 Hebrides — these incidents have in turn given the alarmists 
 cause to raise their voices. Australian politicians have 
 been untiring and vehement in their protests to the 
 Colonial Office, but the effect of their representations 
 197 
 
Australian Life 
 
 has never been appreciable. The sphere of foreign 
 influence in the Pacific has enlarged by almost im- 
 perceptible degrees, and only the other day the Australian 
 Prime Minister awakened with a gasp to the considera- 
 tion of sixteen foreign naval stations within easy striking 
 distance of Australian shores. Distance is being an- 
 nihilated by time, and the remote and peaceful Australian 
 is now confronted by possibilities it was once the fashion 
 to ridicule. 
 
 Perhaps the Boer War furnished Australia with its 
 first real reminder that national responsibility must go 
 hand in hand with national ambition. It is not easy for 
 the home-keeping Englishman to grasp the real meaning 
 of the wave of patriotism that swept over Greater Britain 
 during the progress of that struggle. * The loyalty of the 
 Colonies ' has degenerated into a phrase for the use of 
 party politicians, who too seldom stop to consider its 
 meaning. Whether the Colonies will always be loyal to 
 Great Britain is a question that may yet have to be 
 decided. It is quite certain, however, that they will 
 always remain loyal to the Empire,, provided there 
 remains an Empire to excite the passion of loyalty. 
 The Boer War opened with an incident that appealed 
 most forcibly to every Colonial who cherished this ideal 
 of Empire — the invasion of a self-governing Colony by a 
 hostile force. From that time forward the Australians 
 and New Zealanders — and obviously the Canadians and 
 other Colonials as well — regarded the war as peculiarly 
 their war. It was clear enough to any one who saw 
 much of the men who left their homes to fight in South 
 Africa that this aspect of the quarrel had touched their 
 imagination most keenly. It was the first real Colonial 
 war in which the Empire had been engaged, and the 
 notion of Empire suddenly gained an attractive reality 
 in the eyes of Australians. Even so, perhaps, would 
 Canadians and Africans rally to their help if ever 
 Australia were invaded by an enemy. 
 
 From the sentimentaHsts' standpoint, this view of 
 198 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 Australian loyalty is possibly less attractive than the 
 conventional idea of love for *the dear old Mother 
 Country.' It is, however, the view consistent with the 
 Colonial attitude on most Imperial questions. Canada 
 still refuses to pay one penny toward the upkeep of the 
 British fleet, simply because it is a British fleet and not 
 an Imperial fleet. Australia with a grudging reluctance 
 contributes the sum of ;^2 00,000 annually as a naval 
 subsidy, and New Zealand only pays an amount in 
 proportion. Yet all the Colonies gladly combined to 
 bear the cost of an Imperial line of cable, in the 
 administration of which they were allowed some voice. 
 
 These instances of Colonial sentiment and Colonial 
 policy are advanced merely in explanation of the manner 
 in which the Boer War changed the Australian outlook 
 upon the world outside. It brought home at once the 
 reality of the Imperial tie and the unsubstantial nature 
 of the Imperial fabric. It showed, as nothing else could 
 have done, the desirability of an Imperial Federation, and 
 the obstacles that existed in the way of such a Federation. 
 Australia to-day is halting on the path towards Imperial 
 unity. Rightly or wrongly, the Australian believes that 
 in order to enter into closer relations with the Mother 
 Country he would have to lay aside that striving for race 
 purity which is an instinct with him. Since the Federa- 
 tion of the Australian States was accomplished, the whole 
 history of the world has been rewritten for Australia. 
 A new Power has grown up in the Pacific. In the 
 sudden rise of Japan, the Australian discerns the most 
 sombre menace to all his most cherished ideals. From 
 the Australian's point of view, the position is an intricate 
 and difficult one. Almost in the moment when the 
 Commonwealth was deciding that the Japanese was not 
 a desirable citizen for Australia, and passing legislation 
 to exclude him from Commonwealth territory, a stroke 
 of British diplomacy exalted Japan to the position of an 
 Imperial ally. The outbreak of the Eastern war followed, 
 and from that time the Australian attitude towards Japan 
 
 199 
 
Australian Life 
 
 has been indefinable. The AustraUans love the Japanese 
 at a distance. They regard them as splendid fighting 
 men, and creditable allies even to the Mother Country. 
 But these facts do not alter the Australian view that the 
 Japanese is an undesirable citizen, whereas the Russian 
 is a desirable one. During the progress of the war a 
 motion was tabled in the Australian Parliament for the 
 free admission of Japanese into the Commonwealth. It 
 was not granted even serious consideration. 
 
 On the other hand, Japanese feeling on the subject is 
 equally unmistakable. The Japanese are not given to 
 parading their feelings, or announcing their plans in 
 advance. But it is certain that their exclusion from 
 Australia is at once harmful to their settled policy of 
 expansion, and wounding to their national pride. It is 
 set down as a matter for attention as soon as more 
 pressing affairs have been settled. Responsible Japanese 
 statesmen have openly said as much. Japanese merchants 
 who have business relations with Australia are never 
 tired of referring to their grievance, even in business 
 correspondence. The injury crops up in every pearlers' 
 quarrel at Thursday Island or on the north-west coast 
 of Australia, and the angry Japanese coolie does not 
 hesitate to threaten his white rivals with what will happen 
 as soon as Japan is able to take in hand his grievances. 
 Australians also remember how, not very long ago, they 
 entertained a Japanese fleet in their harbours. The^ 
 visitors were made much of, and feted at every port, so 
 that they were able to see whatever was to be seen. 
 No Australian who has ever given two thoughts to the 
 matter doubts now that the Japanese information as to 
 the sea gates and fortifications of Australia is full and 
 complete. Possibly they credit their visitors with powers 
 of observation greater than they possessed, but the 
 history of the Manchurian campaign proves that the 
 Japanese Intelligence Department has never yet neglected 
 an opportunity so favourable as that afforded by the 
 easy Government of the Commonwealth. 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 No doubt the Australian takes an alarmist view of the 
 situation, but it must be remembered that the * Yellow 
 Peril,' which is still only a bugbear phrase to Western 
 Europe, is a very near and real thing to him. He is forced 
 to look forward to the day when Japan, as Great Britain's 
 ally, will request that the disabilities under which the 
 Japanese labour in the Southern continent shall be re- 
 moved, and he cherishes no illusions as to the reply His 
 Majesty's Government will make. He does not believe 
 that the decision will be influenced in any way by 
 Australian sentiment or Australian opinion. Since the 
 day when Australians turned British convict ships from 
 their wharves with an open show of force, there has never 
 been a moment when the Imperial tie has been in any 
 danger of severance. But that moment will come should 
 the Commonwealth at any time receive the order to 
 throw open its territories to an Asiatic people. 
 
 It is at least certain that Australian life of to-day is 
 very strongly influenced by this shadow which lies across 
 the future of the continent. Not long ago Mr. Deakin, 
 who is the most representative of Australian Nationalists, 
 was interviewed on the subject of Australia's relations 
 with the outside world. He expressed very forcibly the 
 view that the Commonwealth should immediately prepare 
 itself for the defence of its shores. * Australia,' he said, 
 * which used to depend largely on its isolation for security, 
 is now within what is termed striking distance of no fewer 
 than sixteen foreign naval stations — San Francisco, Maza- 
 tlan, Callao, Iquique, Hawaii, Tahiti, Samoa, New 
 Caledonia, Yokohama, Port Arthur, Shanghai, Manila, 
 Saigon, Bencooelen, Reunion, and Tamatave. It is very 
 doubtful if we are properly prepared to meet a dash at 
 our weak spots, delivered by two or three fast cruisers. 
 It is also very much open to question whether our 
 harbour defences are equal to the test to which they 
 might be put. The forts about our principal cities are 
 most of them of antiquated design, and very dangerous 
 to the garrisons who would hold them under a fire of 
 
 20I 
 
Australian Life 
 
 modern missiles. We require submarines, torpedo boats, 
 and torpedo-boat destroyers. We have enough men for 
 any requisite naval forces, and for the naval reserves a 
 great influx of desirable settlers is necessary all round 
 Australia, with a view to the efficient defence of the whole 
 continent, of which at present only part is occupied. 
 
 'When we are attacked, it will not be with kid gloves 
 or after convenient notice, but it will be when and where 
 we least desire it, and with remorseless fury. The very 
 least with which we can be content is such an expenditure 
 and such defence forces as will afford us reasonable 
 guarantees of safety to our ports, our cities, and our 
 coasts.' 
 
 The significant features of the interview were the 
 omission of any reference to the British fleet stationed 
 in Australian waters and the desire for a great influx of 
 population. The presence of a British fleet in Australian 
 waters is merely a matter of social interest to Australians. 
 They have been told so often that the great naval battle 
 for the protection of their continent will probably be 
 fought many thousands of miles from its shores, that they 
 have accepted the statement as being probably true. 
 They feel equally sure that such a battle will be fought 
 around no quarrel of Australia's choosing. The advocates 
 who from time to time have urged the Colonies to increase 
 their naval contributions have employed the very argu- 
 ments calculated to defeat their own ends. Australia, 
 like Canada, has been led by these enthusiasts to believe 
 that the defence of Commonwealth shores rests with the 
 Commonwealth. The national spirit in Australia con- 
 templates nothing more certainly than that the nation 
 shall be self-protective. Otherwise, says the young 
 Austrahan, we shall not be protected at all. 
 
 But for the efficient protection of so large a country a 
 much greater population is required. On this point all 
 political parties in Australia are now agreed. The most 
 remarkable effect of the apprehension caused by the rise 
 of Japan is displayed in the modification of the Labour 
 
 202 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 programme. Mr. Watson, the Labour leader in the 
 national Parliament, has been quick to recognise the 
 danger of the waste, unoccupied plains of Northern 
 Austraha. So long as these fertile lands remain un- 
 developed, they afford the best possible reason for a 
 demand that Australia should open her ports to coloured 
 labour. Opportunities for growing cotton, and a score 
 of other valuable tropical products, are let slip year by 
 year for want of suitable labour to develop these lands. 
 It is not probable that British immigrants would be able, 
 in such a climate, to do the hard work that is required 
 in a satisfactory manner. The suggestion is now made 
 that immigration should be encouraged from the races of 
 Southern Europe, who are accustomed to perform heavy 
 tasks in a climate approximating to that of Northern 
 Australia. Although this scheme is practically dependent 
 upon permission being obtained to indenture Italian, 
 Bulgarian, or Austrian labourers under contract, it already 
 meets with a tentative support from the Labour party. 
 It involves an important modification of that clause of 
 the Restriction Act which forbids the introduction of 
 immigrants under contract. The Labour leaders are now 
 letting drop guarded intimations that they are prepared 
 to modify this clause in favour of the white labourer from 
 over the seas. Mr. Watson recently stated that people 
 had abandoned the idea that white men could not work 
 on Northern plantations. While not anticipating that 
 there would be any necessity for it, he continued, he 
 would be prepared, under certain circumstances, to con- 
 sider the necessity for allowing the indenturing of white 
 labour, but it would have to be done under very carefully 
 framed conditions, with an insistence upon the payment 
 of fair wages. *We shall have, I think, to widen our 
 platform,' said another Labour leader, *so that people 
 from Southern Europe, who are accustomed to working 
 in hot climates, may be induced to accept the engage- 
 ment of work in the Queensland sugar fields. The 
 engagements would have to be under Government control. 
 
 303 
 
Australian Life 
 
 I would even go so far as to agree to a system of assisted 
 passages, on condition that the State Governments would 
 undertake to settle the immigrants on land on the com- 
 pletion of their engagements.' 
 
 The fear of Japanese aggression will have a wholesome 
 effect^ if it causes the leaders of the popular party in 
 Australia to take immediate steps for populating their 
 waste territories. By doing so they will abolish one 
 reason for outside interference. At the same time, such 
 a step will prevent the coloured man from gaining any 
 firm foothold in Australia, should it be found necessary 
 in the interests of Imperial unity to throw the Common- 
 wealth open to Eastern races. On the other hand, if 
 Australia should see fit to stiffen her back when the time 
 comes, and to insist on the maintenance of a white 
 Australia, the advantage of an immediate influx of white 
 population cannot be over-estimated. In America, whither 
 Australia has turned for guidance in the solution of many 
 problems already presented by her national life, it has 
 been found that the European immigrant becomes 
 Americanised with extraordinary rapidity. This lesson 
 the Labour party appears to have learned; hence the 
 modification of its programme and legislation. 
 
 It will be seen, then, that Australia is not entirely 
 blind to the future, as the Australians conceive it. The 
 day may be far distant when Australia is called upon 
 to choose between Imperial unity and independence. 
 It may never come. But the Australian anticipates that 
 in the near future Japan will press for the recognition of 
 her people to share equal rights in Australia with any 
 white man. What may happen then will be beyond the 
 power of Australia to decide; except upon one point. 
 The present writer meets in London many Australians 
 who have settled down to existence in Great Britain more 
 or less permanently. * Do you ever intend to go back ? ' 
 is a question not infrequently asked. Most Anglo- 
 Australians are now familiar with the answer ; * Well, I 
 may have to go back some day — to fight.' 
 
 204 
 
in Town and Country 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Accent, Australian, 128 
 
 Aliens, coloured, 86, 161 
 
 Animals, wild, 63 
 
 Anniversary Day, 84, loi, 1 82 
 
 Arbitration, compulsory in- 
 dustrial, 94, 121 
 
 Area of Australia, 3 
 
 Artists, Australian, 177 
 
 Artesian wells, 67 
 
 Australian Natives' Association, 
 179 
 
 * Bagmen,' 53 
 Ballarat, 108 
 Birth-rate, declining, 128 
 Bicycles, novel use of, 53 
 
 * Billy-can,' 55 
 Boer War, 198 
 Boundary Riders, 16 
 
 * Brumbies,' 26 
 ' Brownie,' 16 
 Buck jumpers, 28 
 Buffalo in Australia, 150 
 Bulletin^ the, 174 
 
 Bush, aspects of, 6 ; fire in, 38 ; 
 women of, 132 | 
 
 Cadets, military, 171! 
 
 Camel in Australia, 47, 148 
 
 Camping out, 149 
 
 Capital, Commonwealth, 185 
 
 Capitals of States, 5, 9, 70, 129 
 
 Cattle runs, 17 
 
 Chinese, the, Z(i, 163]^ 
 
 Christmas in Australia, 2, 37 
 Churches, 171 
 Clearing the land, 117 
 Clubs, 139 
 Coastline, 3 
 Cockatoo farmers, 32 
 Constitution, Commonwealth, 
 
 184 
 Coolie labour, 161 
 Cricket, 143, 146 
 Customs, English, 2 
 Cycling swagmen, 53 
 
 Dairying, 35 
 Death-rate, 28 
 Debt, public, 93 
 Defence, 171, 197 
 Dialect, aboriginal, 156 
 Diet, Australian, 134; 
 
 riginal, 154 
 Dog, native, 153 
 Dress and climate, 126 
 Droving, 43 
 Drought, 49, 61 
 
 Eight-hour day, 94 
 Empire, unity of, 198 
 Equality, social, 83 
 Exclusiveness, class, 137 
 Explorers, 42 
 
 abo- 
 
 Federation, imperial, 199 
 Fites^ national, 183 
 Fish, Australian, 88 
 
 205 
 
Index 
 
 Fishing, 149, 155 
 Football, 147 
 Franchise, female, 130 
 Fruit, abundance of, 81 
 
 Gold, discovery of, 102 ; ex- 
 ploration for, 42, 108 
 Governor as host, 136 
 
 Holiday resorts, 78 
 Home life, 133 
 Homestead station, 13 
 Horsebreaking, 27 
 Horses, wild, 26 
 Hospitality, 2, 140 
 Hospitals, bush, 58 
 Housing question, 81 
 
 Ice habit, 135 
 Immigration Act, 122 
 Immigration, encouraging, 123, 
 
 203 
 Imperial Federation, 199 ; unity, 
 
 198 
 Irrigation, 65 
 
 'Jackaroo,' the, 16 
 Japan and Australia, 199 
 Japanese, 165, 167 
 
 Kalgoorlie, in 
 Kanakas, 167 
 
 Labour leaders, 96, 203 
 Labour party's origin, 94 
 Labour programme, 96 
 * Larrikins,' 84 
 
 Magazines, 175 
 Malays, 165 
 Manila men, 165 
 Meat, consumption of, 134 
 Mining *rush,' 1 12 
 Mirage, 48 
 Music, 129 
 Mustering cattl^, 25 
 
 Nationalism, 184 
 Navy, Australian, 202 
 Never-Never Land, 5, 41 
 Newspapers, 173 
 Novels, 176 
 
 Old-age pensions, 93 
 Opium, abuse of, 87, 159 
 
 Parks, 78 
 
 Parliament House, 72 
 Parliament, Commonwealth, 
 
 184 
 Pastimes, aboriginal, 155 
 Pearl fishing, 165 
 Pensions, old-age, 93 
 Population, increase of, 105, 
 
 123 
 Press, 173 
 
 Professional men, 76 
 Protective tariffs, 9, 121 
 Provincialism, 178, 183 
 Public buildings, 71 
 Public servants, 91 
 * Push,' larrikin, 84 
 
 Rabbits, 13, 29 
 Racing, 144 
 Racing picnic, 20 
 Railways, 68, 179 
 Rainfall, 4, 60 
 Rations, station, 52 
 Refrigeration, io6 
 Religious teaching, 171 
 Rents, 87 
 Rivers, 4 
 *Runs,' pastoral, 5 
 
 Saltbush, 64 
 Schools, 35, 170, 172 
 Secret societies, 164 
 Selectors, 12, 32 
 Servants, 127 
 
 Sexes, comradeship of, 127 
 Shanty, bush, 57 
 Shearers, 22 
 Shearing machine, 14 
 
 206 
 
Index 
 
 Shooting, 149 
 Slang, bush, 54 
 Sports, 37 
 Squatters, II 
 Stampede of cattle, 44 
 States, division into, 5 
 Stockmen, 19 
 Strike, maritime, 95 
 Suburban life, 77, 88 
 Sugar-cane, cultivating, 
 
 167 
 Swagmen, 36, 51 
 Swag-rolling an art, 56 
 
 Tea-rooms, 77 
 Tea, consumption of, 134 
 Tenements, 80 
 Theatres, 176 
 
 Township life, 140 
 Trackers, aboriginal, 156 
 Transport difficulty, 119 
 
 Unemployed, the, 92 
 Universities, 173 
 
 Vineyards, 118 
 
 162, Wages boards, 121 
 
 Water conservation, 65 
 White Australia, 197, 204 
 Wood-chopping a sport, 147 
 Wool-kings, 12 
 Wool-shearing, 22 
 Wool-classing, 24 
 Working man, status of, 138 
 Working woman, status of, 130 
 
 THE END 
 
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