Travels in Western Australia / being a description of the various cities and towns, goldfields, and agricultural districts of that state

by May Vivienne

CHAPTER VI

Drive to Claremont—Osborne—Keane’s Point—The Chine—Cottesloe—The Ocean—North Fremantle—Arthur’s Head—Smelting Works—Our Contingent—Fremantle.

One bright morning I started to drive from Perth to Fremantle, a distance of twelve miles. Taking the lower road around Mount Eliza, a beautiful prospect lay before me. The Mount rises 200 feet above the road, which is only a little way from the broad river; the sun shone on Melville Water in the distance, while on the other side lay the Canning river, with trees and hills beyond. The pretty suburb of South Perth on its arm of land, with the old mill at the extreme end; the many little boats and steamers going to and fro, made a charming summer-day’s picture. Along the road past Perth Park we saw the blue and silvery water all the time, and then, when we came to Crawley, we entered a road fenced on each side. Valuable land is placarded for sale, and no doubt in course of time will become even more valuable. Already streets have been laid out for a suburb, which, being so beautifully situated, will be charming to live in. After a pretty drive of six miles we reached the fashionable suburb of Claremont, where there are some very elegant villas and mansions. A mile farther on is Osborne, the most magnificent hotel and grounds in Western Australia. This fine building stands in large gardens and grounds, and is surrounded by splendid conservatories and terraces. There are wide balconies, arbours, and seats, and, in the matter of beauty, the place almost realises Claude Melnotte’s description of “a palace lifting to eternal summer.” It seems almost incredible that three years ago this exquisite spot was the abode only of the blackboy, banksia, and other native trees, and a shelter for the dusky son of the soil. Towering high above the hotel is a turret of spacious dimensions, from which the growing port of Fremantle, with many merchant vessels and steamships riding peacefully at anchor, may be clearly seen in the distance. The adjacent islands of Carnac, Garden, and Rottnest, with their rugged coast-lines, lashed by the surging waves of the ocean, are but a few miles distant. The clearness of the air gives a wonderful range of vision from the tower. As you turn, you behold in the distance the dark woodland of the Darling Ranges, whose summits seem to touch the sky. In the zenith of summer heat in Western Australia, Osborne is always delightfully shaded and cool.

An artesian well in the grounds, which struck water at a depth of 150 feet, gives an abundant supply, capable of supplying the whole of Perth. No less than 50,000 gallons of water are used every day on the grounds of Osborne alone. Steamers come to Osborne jetty during the week, and every Sunday in the summer, bringing hundreds of people to enjoy the scene. The steamer moors at a landing at the bottom of the cliff, and hundred of steps have to be climbed before the top is reached. The climb is made easy by a platform with seats at the end of every flight of steps, of which there are five, and one can rest on these to enjoy the pleasing prospect. Pretty villas are built all around the hillsides; dear little Freshwater Bay, with its numerous bathing-houses and jetties, the pretty yachts and boats on its bosom looking like white-winged birds, lies at your feet; and the wild note of the magpies, not yet frightened away by civilisation as the aborigines have been, is heard from the trees in the distance. Continuing our drive, we took the inner road up the hill. Another pretty little bay and suburb called Peppermint Grove, from the fact that at one time it was a grove of delicate peppermint-trees, discloses itself. There are many beautiful villas with gardens, a nice white, hard sandy beach, a fine jetty for the many boats that come from Perth and Fremantle, and the Yacht Club House. Keane’s Point, with a handsome old bungalow on a fine site, hides a bend of the river. The Chine, so called from its peculiar conformation, the ridge appearing like the backbone of an enormous whale or other gigantic sea monster, is another pretty spot. Any one who has the fortitude to climb to the top of the Chine will be rewarded by one of the most exquisite panoramic views of ocean, river, flower, shrub, sea and sky ever seen. The tints of the water from the reflection of the azure sky melting into pale yellow, then into rich gold and crimson from the setting sun, once seen will never be forgotten. Turning back, we resumed our drive up Forrest Street and into the main Fremantle Road. We were now in the seaside suburb of Cottesloe, and away over the hill lay the beautiful Cottesloe Beach, stretching along for miles. Cottesloe is one of the most flourishing suburbs of Perth. A few years ago it was all one dense bush; now it is full of human life, and houses are going up in all directions as fast as the builders can erect them. Past the quarries we went until a turn of the road brought us to a view so magnificent that its effect can never fade from my memory. In the distance the dark blue Indian Ocean rolled in all its majestic splendour; North Fremantle was in sight, and so was the mouth of the Swan river. We approached the bridge to cross it, and saw an effect even more beautiful. From the bridge on which we stopped a few minutes in order to gaze on this gorgeous scene we saw many fine ships lying at anchor on the broad ocean; up the river many small boats and steamers were moored; in the distance were white cliffs and pretty houses; the magnificent German steamer, the Friedrich der Grosse, was just going out to sea—and altogether the scene was truly a grand one. I hope I shall not be thought to rhapsodise too much, but I can assure my readers that I am writing exactly as I felt when first viewing the approach to Fremantle.

FRESHWATER BAY, CLAREMONT

When the new harbour is finished, Fremantle will be, as Sir John Forrest puts it, the Brindisi of Australia. And now we crossed the bridge and entered East Fremantle, leaving behind us the broad river winding its way to the ocean between two splendid breakwaters.

On we drove down Cantonment Road into High Street, the principal thoroughfare, at the top of which is the fine Town Hall with its splendid clock. From that point the street runs to Arthur’s Head, and is connected by a tunnel with the sea; on the top of the limestone cliff is an old building called the Old Cantonment, formerly used as a lock-up. Fremantle is built on a low-lying neck of land between Arthur’s Head on the one side and the limestone heights on the other, hemmed in on one hand by the river and on the other by the sea. The city was named after Captain Fremantle, who first hoisted the British flag there, in 1829.

There is a fine lighthouse on Arthur’s Head. It is a white stone tower 71 feet high, with a fixed white light, visible for 16 miles. Fremantle still possesses some old and singular-looking buildings. The old gaol and court-house, with the harbourmaster’s quarters and the barracks, will, no doubt, in course of time be replaced by more up-to-date structures; there are already many very fine new buildings. Fremantle has an excellent Grammar School, where most of the boys from Perth and the country districts receive their education. Mr. G. Bland Humble, the present worthy and respected Town Clerk of Fremantle, was the first master, having been brought from England in 1886 to teach the young idea of Western Australia how to shoot.

There are many good hotels, the Hotel Fremantle being the best at the city end of the town, and the Hotel Australia at the upper end. This latter is really a splendid hotel, standing in an excellent position, with a grand view of the river, harbour, and islands beyond. The jetty is half a mile long, and some large vessels are always lying there.

Fremantle is rapidly increasing in size and population, and social life is not so divided as in Perth; there seem to be more geniality and not so much stiffness about the people. A volunteer artillery corps, turf, bicycle, rowing, cricket, and football clubs provide various forms of social activity. There is a nice park, also a good recreation-ground, and several places of entertainment, and the large hall in the Town Hall is very handsome and superbly decorated. An inexhaustible supply of water is obtained from three large wells connected by drives. The water is pumped up by steam into reservoirs at the rate of 45,000 gallons an hour.

The smelting works about two miles from Fremantle, at Owen’s Anchorage, have lately commenced working, and are a great boon to the goldfields, which until recently were very much handicapped by having to send their ore to the other colonies to be smelted.

NORTH FREMANTLE

The South African War is the general topic of the day, and with what sorrow do we read of the sacrifice of so many noble lives! Several contingents of our brave Australians have left the different parts of the colonies to assist their British brothers with a little of the courage we have in the Sunny South. The second contingent has just left these shores, and Fremantle has had the honour of giving them the send-off. Over 30,000 people assembled to bid them farewell, and a scene of such unbounded enthusiasm ensued as has never before been witnessed in the colony. The magnificent steamer Surrey brought the New South Wales and South Australian contingents, and these soldiers came in for their share of admiration no less than the Western Australians. The enthusiasm shown for the Western Australian contingent from the time they left the camp at Karrakatta until they waved their last good-bye from the steamer’s side will never be forgotten. The street decorations, although hurriedly got up, were handsome and patriotic. At the Oval, where the reception to the troops was held, a huge marquee occupied considerable space, and rows of tables laden with every delicacy were provided for the troops and for the many distinguished visitors. Over 200 of the leading society ladies of Fremantle acted as waitresses, proud to attend on brave men soon to embark for the perils of war. Although the men were going away to face battle, all seemed jubilant, proud, and confident. The three contingents were all like brothers. The cries of the multitude were: “Cheers for the Cornstalks of New South Wales,” another for the “Gum-suckers of Victoria,” one for the “Crow-eaters of South Australia,” and “A great big one for Westralians; do your best, boys!”[1] At the wharf, prior to the Surrey leaving next day, somebody handed up a bottle of whisky, intending it for a Westralian trooper. A Cornstalk, however, became possessed of it. “That’s not for you, it’s for one of the Western Australians,” shouted the donor. “It doesn’t matter, we’re all alike, we’ll soon be Federated Australia,” laughed the Cornstalk, and opening the bottle took a drop, then handed it round to the rest, who all participated in it with real federal spirit. When the time came for the troopship to leave, some affecting scenes took place between mothers, sisters, wives and soldiers, but all bore up as bravely as possible. Were they not going for the glory of Old England and the honour of their beloved Queen?

A Bushmen’s contingent has since left all the colonies, comprising men who are accustomed to rough-riding and thoroughly used to rough life in most trying conditions. From what I know of many of the Bushmen I have met in my travels, I should say that they will afford the British troops valuable aid in reconnoitring the wily Boer.

As we all know, the Australians have since bravely distinguished themselves, and our late dearly beloved Queen testified her approval of their actions in many ways. Her late Majesty’s gracious act of proposing that the Duke and Duchess of York should go so far in order to open the Federal Parliament of Australia endeared her still more, were that possible, to the hearts of her colonial subjects. As one of them who saw the late lamented Prince Edward and Prince George when they went out to Australia years ago in the Bacchante, “I can testify to the unswerving loyalty and affection of Australians for our beloved Queen and all her family.”

HIGH STREET, FREMANTLE

And what a brilliant record our Western Australians, especially those of the first contingent, who have returned to Perth, have taken back with them! Truly they deserve the laurel-wreath of honour, while those who fell on the field of battle, giving up their lives for their beloved Queen and country, will live for all time in our hearts. I cannot do better, I am sure, than give Major McWilliams’ description (at the banquet given in Perth in honour of their return) of the way in which some Australians bravely distinguished themselves.

“Before closing, he desired to tell them a story about their entry into Pretoria. He thought it was an incident that all who participated in would remember to the last days of their lives. The hills around Pretoria were most strongly held by the enemy. Their mounted infantry, which included the 1st Western Australians, were ordered to take a hill. They climbed up the kopje, the horses being led behind them, and fought until relieved by the Gordon Highlanders. Their little band had to do the work of infantry, and the handful of men held the top of that hill, and kept the enemy at bay, until the Imperial troops appeared on the scene. The latter said: ‘This is our job now; you are mounted, and you will be required somewhere else.’ The colonials informally handed over the work to the Highlanders, and an order came from Colonel De Lisle to move back to the hills to outflank the enemy, if possible. They did so under a heavy fire, but the enemy, on seeing them, must have exaggerated their numbers, for they made off into Pretoria as fast as they could. The Western Australians followed, and on that night got within a thousand yards of Pretoria. At that time Lord Roberts’ main column was six miles in their rear. Their infantry decided to hold the position close to Pretoria until morning. During that night one of their number, a son of an esteemed resident of Perth—he referred to Captain Parker—was sent with a few men into Pretoria to blow up the line, and he certainly had the honour of being the first armed man to enter Pretoria. That, he thought, was a great thing to claim for a Western Australian. He might also state a fact not generally known, that the flag of truce on the night before was taken in by a New South Wales officer, an Australian born. This little company numbered less than one hundred men.”

TWO MORE COLONIAL VICTORIA CROSSES.

The Gazette of October 4 states that the King has been graciously pleased to signify his intention to confer the decoration of the Victoria Cross on Lieut. F. W. Bell, West Australian Mounted Infantry, and Farrier-Major W. J. Hardham, 4th New Zealand Contingent.

At Brakpan, on May 16, 1901, when retiring through a heavy fire after holding the right flank, Lieut. Bell noticed a man dismounted, and returned and took him up behind him; the horse not being equal to the weight fell with them; Lieut. Bell then remained behind, and covered the man’s retirement till he was out of danger.

Lieut. F. W. Bell is a Western Australian of the third generation. He was one of the handful of men who so distinguished themselves at Slingersfontein, when twenty-five members of the corps held a body of twelve times their number of Boers in check while the main body of troops—to which the corps was attached—and the guns retired.

Near Faauwpoort, on January 28, 1901, Farrier-Major W. J. Hardham was with a section which was extended and hotly engaged with a party of about twenty Boers. Just before the force commenced to retire Trooper M’Crae was wounded and his horse killed. Farrier-Major Hardman at once went under a heavy fire to his assistance, dismounted, and placed him on his own horse, and ran alongside until he had guided him to a place of safety.

Farrier-Major Hardham is a blacksmith, of Wellington, New Zealand.

CHAPTER VII
ROTTNEST

Steam to Rottnest—The Lovely River—Crawley Point—The Island—Boys’ Orphanage—Fremantle Harbour.

A very pleasant excursion is to Rottnest Island, twelve miles from Fremantle. We left Perth in the morning in the steamer to go down the Swan river, and then across the harbour from Fremantle to the island. The day was perfect, the scenery exquisite. I do not think the Eastern Colonists are aware how beautiful their Western sister is, or they would flock over here still faster than they are now doing. Leaving South Perth at our back, we had the magnificent stretch of Melville Water in front of us. Melville Park Estate is a very valuable property, and is rapidly being transformed from the primeval bush into a place of busy life; residential areas are being laid out, houses have been built, suburbs will soon arise, and land is rapidly going up in value. The little steamer for Coffee Point was just ahead of us, and at the Point we could see a fine bungalow, which must be a pleasant house to live in. Wattle-trees and beautiful flowers were seen in abundance through the field glass I had brought, and we decided that Melville Water was another beautiful feature of Western Australia.

We steamed past Mount Eliza, with its beautiful terraces of flowers and shrubs looking down upon us. The water was shining like a jewel at its foot. After rounding Crawley Point, where the handsome residence of Sir George Shenton stands, we soon passed into the loveliest little bay conceivable (Freshwater), its high cliffs studded with pretty villas, and the grand Hotel Osborne in the distance. Then on past Cottesloe, and into the Swan river again, down past Fremantle, and across to Rottnest. It was a most delightful trip, and I am sure the lovely Swan river is without a peer in Australia for rowing and yachting; it is perfect.

Rottnest is an island about 7 miles long and 2½ miles broad, and the scenery is very lovely. I do not know when I shall come to the end of all the beautiful scenery of Westralia, as the more I travel the prettier each place appears. The summer residence of the Governor is here, and although not a palatial mansion, yet the situation is so exquisite and the fishing on the island so good, that the Governor always enjoys his time of residence there. An avenue of Morton Bay fig-trees, a mile in length, has lately been planted on the shore of the Serpentine Lake, near the viceregal residence. Salt lakes abound on the island. There are chains of them, and the salt contains medicinal properties, but at present the lakes are only utilised for the manufacture of salt. There are some nice gardens, and agriculture is carried on by means of the labour of the prisoners on the island, for at Rottnest is the prison for aboriginal offenders and juvenile delinquents. There is a splendid lighthouse on the hill, with a revolving light visible for 40 miles. A most peculiar phenomenon appeared at Fremantle during the extreme heat of the summer, namely, a perfect mirage, so that two Rottnests appeared, one immediately above the other, and the lighthouse seemed to be of immense height. Strangest of all, about half way up the double-edged island there appeared a long line of foam, while beyond the island there seemed to be a line of rocks—recorded by no chart—on the far-distant horizon. It was a most uncommon sight. Rottnest has rich little valleys, and all kinds of fruit could be grown there, for the soil is extremely fertile. There are some very peculiar rock formations and caves, one particularly fine one being called, after our eminent tragedian, “The Henry Irving.” No better spot could be found for an invalid in search of health. Many people have cause to thank the Western Australian climate for a return to health after having been threatened with consumption. A friend of mine came from Victoria very ill, and was thoroughly restored after a few months’ residence here. The long summer, the bright sunshine, the dry warm air and pure atmosphere are just suited for delicate lungs. The winter is quite invigorating, with just enough rain and cloud to give variety—the spice of life. This colony seems to combine all the good qualities of the famous health resorts about which we colonials hear and read so much—Madeira, Egypt, the Riviera, &c.

After a most enjoyable day we returned to Perth in the moonlight, and with the scent of many sweet flowers wafting from the shore, to the steamer, arrived all too soon at the end of our charming excursion.

A very pretty drive is to Woodman’s Point, not far from Fremantle. This is a great place for camping out and fishing at holiday times. Numbers of tents dotted about testified to its being a favourite spot. The boys of the Swan Orphanage are taken out every year to the seaside for a holiday, and this year Woodman’s Point was chosen. Their happy faces and healthy appearance told you how well they were looked after. The poor little fellows were delighted at the sweets and cakes taken to them by several lady visitors. Their tents were models of tidiness and comfort; the dining-room was a floor of bushes under a big gum-tree. With the lovely blue sky overhead, the sparkling water of the sea close by, the beautiful view all around of ships, steamers and boats, it is an ideal place for boys to enjoy themselves, and they appeared thoroughly to do so, playing cricket, climbing trees, and pursuing other amusements dear to the hearts of boyhood. Some of them sang and recited very nicely, one patriotic boy giving “The Absent-Minded Beggar” with much enthusiasm. As we drove back to Fremantle the harbour looked splendid. A great deal of money has been spent by the Government to make it suitable for large vessels; at one time no very large ship could get a safe anchorage. At an expenditure of over a million of money, however, Fremantle Harbour has now been made able to anchor and berth the largest vessels coming to the colony. The trade of Western Australia is now most important, and sums up to the big figure of £12,000,000 a year; 50,000 people travel between here and the eastern colonies every year, and millions of pounds worth of gold produced in the colony have been taken away by sea. The mail-steamers now put in at Fremantle in place of Albany as heretofore, thus giving great dissatisfaction to the Albanians. However, the change of port is not only necessary for trade, as Fremantle is the principal port of the colony, but will also give people travelling from the other side of the world a better opportunity of seeing the metropolis and goldfields of Western Australia, which they were often deterred from doing by the journey from Albany to Perth, a distance of 338 miles, so it is an ill wind that blows nobody good.

GOVERNMENT HOUSE, PERTH

CHAPTER VIII
GUILDFORD

Henley Park—Hunting—Mundaring Weir—Sir John Forrest—Darling Nurseries—Kelmscott—Armadale—Jarrahdale—Whitby Falls—Mandurah—Yarloop Mills—Harvey—Collie Coalfields.

One morning I drove to Guildford, 9 miles from Perth. Such a pretty drive! The Swan river winds its way so far, and is there joined by the Helena. The many farmhouses and crops of this fine agricultural district impress one very favourably. About half-way there is a fine hotel and good pleasure-grounds, called the Hotel Ascot, overlooking the river, where much boating and fishing are enjoyed by the visitors patronising the hotel.

Guildford is a pretty place, and, being so near Perth, is likely to become quite an important town. There are some good residences near. On Mr. Hammersly’s estate, called Pyrton, after the family estate in England, is a fine house, standing amongst unrivalled scenery. The scented foliage of the big gum-trees casts a grateful shade for the sleek cattle, and in the sweet springtime almost every bit of ground is covered with wild flowers of exquisite beauty. The Hon. H. J. Saunders’ estate at Henley Park is a few miles farther on, with a very quaint-looking house 70 years old, and built of sun-dried bricks. The walls are nearly covered with ivy, and woodbine runs over the fences. All kinds of flowers spread their rich perfume around. The orchard is close by, the scented blossoms of the various trees mingling their fragrance with that of the flowers. Mr. Saunders has a large racing-stable, and takes great interest in racing matters. The private training-track, made at great expense, is a mile round, and looked like a smooth lawn; the stud flock of Romney Marsh bred sheep had been feeding there for the previous few weeks. Mr. Saunders’ racing-stables are recognised as the best in Western Australia, and he has a small and select breeding-stud, including Leda by Trenton and Lady Sylvia by Newminster. His racehorses are likely-looking animals, especially Henley and Black Rock, which have some very good records. As we drove back to Guildford the sun was just setting, and the country road with its red soil contrasted well with the different greens of the trees and fields, and with occasional waving crops, vineyards, and blossoming orchards. Everything was perfectly peaceful, until, all at once, the stillness was broken by a party of huntsmen returning from a good day’s sport. One of them turned out to be an old friend, who told me that the country around Guildford is excellent for hunting, and that there is a very good hunt club. Our Australian poet, A. L. Gordon, writes:

“Here’s a health to every sportsman,

Be he stableman or lord;

If his heart be true I care not

What his pockets may afford.

And may he ever pleasantly

Each gallant sport pursue,

If he takes his liquor fairly,

And his fences fairly too.”

Hon. H. J. Saunders

I put up at the Guildford Hotel for the night, and in the morning thoroughly enjoyed the fresh fish caught for my breakfast in the river close by. Some excitement was one day caused in quiet Guildford when, some new works being in progress, some of the quartz boulders forming the old foundation were dug up and carted elsewhere; a boulder fell from the dray, and was crushed by one of the wheels; a glittering object was noticed in the débris, and turned out to be gold; the quartz had originally been taken from the Darling Ranges.

I went on to Midland Junction, 2 miles away, en route to the Mundaring Weir, from which source the much-needed river of water is to be taken to the Coolgardie Goldfields. This gigantic scheme will cost two and a half millions of money, but what a boon it will be to the waterless goldfields, of which far-famed Coolgardie is perhaps the most waterless! In spite of the croakings of those who are adverse to the scheme, Sir John Forrest will, I am sure, be found right, and when plenty of fresh water is obtainable at Coolgardie, so that the millions of tons of ore waiting for treatment can be properly crushed, people will see that the first Queen of the Goldfields is not yet dethroned.

The reservoir, where the waters of the Helena river will be stored by hundreds of millions of gallons and then carried across the country to the goldfields, is now in course of construction, and in two years a river (so to say) of fresh water, yielding 5,000,000 gallons daily by means of enormous steel pipes, 330 miles long and 30 inches in diameter, will be flowing, and the Coolgardie housewives will be able to turn on their taps for fresh water. A new era will then dawn for that beautiful city, and its true prosperity begin. The sum paid yearly by the Railway Department for water on its goldfields’ service would more than pay interest on the cost of the scheme. The morning that I arrived at Mundaring Weir the workmen were in a great state of excitement; their residence blocks were being allotted. There were 130 applications, 6 of which were refused, the applicants not being considered desirable residents. The Department will not allow an hotel to be established. Work at the weir was progressing well. At the huge quarries masons were working up granite into blocks. There is an almost inexhaustible deposit of granite, and the chief engineer, Mr. C. Y. O’Connor, intends to form the outer face of the wall with granite instead of using concrete, as is generally done. One enormous dam, nearly finished, is to hold 10,000,000 gallons of water. The watercourse has been divested of timber, and the appearance of the landscape thereby greatly changed. The weir, when finished, will be 560 feet long, and will hold 4,600,000,000 gallons of water.

GOVERNMENT BORE, NEAR MUNDARING

The train that carried us back passed through miles and miles of everlasting flowers. The ground on each side was covered with a carpet of them. Acres first of white, then of pink, blue, yellow and purple, charm the eye, and the kangaroo paw, standing up in its vivid hues of crimson and green, added a still further charm to the scene. On we went through the country robed in its spring garb of beauty, until we came to Smith’s Mill, named after Frederick Smith, a young gentleman explorer in 1836, who died of exhaustion at this place after having shown courage and endurance of hardship worthy of his cousin, Florence Nightingale. Here I left the train in order to visit the Darling Nurseries, which, although it is only seven years since they were first planted, are remarkable for luxuriance. The trees, with their loads of fruit, were weighed down with their own excellence. Thousands of citron-trees, 50,000 apple-trees, peaches and nectarines in enormous quantities, plums, pears and prunes in profusion, persimmons and other Japanese fruits were to be seen; and as for the flowers, the scent of them was almost overpowering. The roses were especially fine; all possible sorts seemed to be growing here. The foliage of the English and Canadian elm-trees and poplars formed a pleasing contrast to the forest vegetation around. It is only a few minutes’ walk from the station to this charming place, which is but 16 miles from Perth; and any one wanting a change from the city should take an afternoon and visit it.

Five miles from Mr. Hawter’s nursery garden is the Haughton Vineyard, now owned by the Mundaring Wine Company. The vines grow at an altitude of 1000 feet above the sea-level. The wine is delicious. There is a notable grape growing there called “Tarbinet Sauvignon,” from which is produced the celebrated Lafitte claret. Mundaring seems to be a congenial home to the vine, and its productive powers are of a high order.

Another charming place to see, 28 miles from Perth, is Kelmscott, nestling in its bed of flowers. Everything looked delightful on the morning that I went there. Nature never appeared more beautiful; it seemed cruel to pluck the flowers from their beds and crush the sweet grass with the horse’s hoofs. I felt almost like Mr. Ruskin, who was such a passionate defender of nature that he would never pluck a flower. Two miles from Kelmscott is another sweet little village called Armadale. I put up at the picturesque inn and enjoyed a few days’ quiet rest among the beautiful surroundings. The orchards, gardens, and vineyards here are so many that it would take a whole book to describe them. Sir Arthur Stepney and Mr. Jull own the largest properties, and have recently equipped a vinery. Only a few years ago immense jarrah and cool white and red gum trees stood in undisputed possession. Now fruits of all kinds are growing in luxuriance. Oranges, lemons, and sub-tropical fruits seem to flourish especially well. So do flowers; blue lechenaultias, coral creeper, heaths of all colours, heliotrope, primroses, pink, and yellow blossoms nestle in the grass. Lovely bouquets can be made from the delicate grey smoke-flower and the pink immortelles, and will last a long time without water. Six miles farther on we came to Jarrahdale. As its name imports, this is the home of the jarrah-tree, and there are large timber mills called the Jarrahdale Jarrah Mills, owned by a London company with a capital of £300,000. This company have the advantage of the fine harbour of Rockingham, where large ships call to convey the timber to all parts of the world. There are five mills on this property. I stayed at the town one night, and attended a concert got up by the employées, which was quite enjoyable, many of them being really good singers and dancers. There is a nice hall, built, of course, with the handsome jarrah-wood, which polishes so beautifully that it looks like mahogany. It never shrinks or warps, so that for a dancing-floor it cannot be excelled. There has been a great demand from South Africa for this wood, which is almost impervious to the ravages of time. Piles that have been driven into the River Swan at the Causeway, and others into the sea at Fremantle, have been taken up after 57 years and found to be uninjured, having resisted the attacks of the sea worm. This wood is one of the best for building purposes, for it resists the white ant and is the least inflammable kind known; yet when burning it throws out immense heat and makes splendid charcoal. There are many charcoal-burners about who are making a good living. Iron bolts and nails driven into the jarrah do not loosen from rust, and there is no doubt the jarrah is the principal tree of the colony. It has come triumphantly through several severe tests, and is now in great demand all over the world. The Golden West does not depend on her mines alone, but, as Mr. Zeb Lane said last year, “Make no mistake about it, the jarrah of Western Australia will yet pave the streets of many of the leading cities of the world.” The late Mr. Ednie Brown, Conservator of Forests, told me that there were 20,000,000 acres of timbered land in Western Australia valued by an expert at £124,000,000. At present there are 50 sawmills in the colony, employing over 4000 men, and still the demand is much greater than the supply, so that there is a great opening for more capitalists.

Whitby Falls Lunatic Asylum is near Jarrahdale, and the poor souls who inhabit it must, I am sure, find there a real haven of rest. The asylum nestles in a sweet valley at the foot of the Darling Range, and the hills make a grand background. Gardens, large fields and paddocks, with cattle feeding, stretch all round, and close by is a magnificent orchard. Five miles farther on are the famous Serpentine Falls, whose glittering cascades falling among the big rocks and boulders, nearly covered with scented foliage, then bubbling and rippling down the valley in joyous frolic among the sweet flowers and ferns, form an idyllic picture. By many this spot is called the “garden of the colony,” and certainly the luxuriant ferns and flowers seemed to grow more beautiful at every step. The blackboy and red gum trees grew more thickly than in any place I have seen, and where those trees flourish everything seems to grow with extra luxuriance. The blackboy is a most peculiar-looking grass tree, with a rough thick stem and a crown of thick heavy dark green grass, looking at a distance, especially in the twilight, like a real blackboy. The gum from the tree is eagerly eaten by the natives and cattle. It also exudes a resin from the stem, which is used for pitch in thatching the native houses, or Mia-Mias, as well as for other purposes; these trees burn brilliantly. The falls come rapidly down from the Darling Range in picturesque cascades, falling over the crystalline rocks into pools below, thence into the river. Twenty-six miles farther on is Pinjarrah. To see this quiet little place now, one would not imagine that years ago it was the scene of an immense native rising; that the soldiers and mounted police had followed the aborigines for miles, and that here the climax came, and hundreds of natives fell. Things are changed since those days of bloodshed, and the few aborigines left do not seem to bear any ill-will to the white fellow. An old native said to me: “I like white fellow; he take all my land, but he make my house, and my big railway, grow big corn, big potatoes; black fellow do nothing, white fellow know everything, so white fellow do what he like—you give me sixpence?” The black fellow always finishes up any conversation with that request. Pinjarrah is on the Murray river, and the centre of a large agricultural district, where plenty of splendid land is available for the selector. Some economists say that population is pressing on the earth’s productive powers, and that by-and-by there will be a dearth of animal food; yet before mankind is starved out he can become vegetarian, as meat diet is expensive compared with a vegetable one. It is said that twenty acres of land are necessary to feed one man on meat, while the same land under vegetable crops would support a great number. One acre of wheat will support 42 people; one of oats, 84; of potatoes and rice, 176; so let us not despair while the rich land is still wailing for cultivation. Cabbages flourish exceedingly at Pinjarrah, and the climate and soil are well adapted for English fruits. There is quite a thriving village, with good buildings and private houses. From this place I took a drive of 14 miles through rich fruit-growing country to the charming seaside town of Mandurah. Pears, peaches and nectarines loaded the trees, and there is a fine fruit-preserving factory, as well as several factories for preserving fish. The Brighton Hotel is very comfortable, and you can get a vast amount of pleasure at this charming resort. Boating, fishing and shooting can be indulged in to your heart’s content. I had a right merry time; several people I knew were staying there, and I became quite an expert at fishing. Across the ferry from the hotel is the Murray estuary, which is really teeming with fish. The goldfields people patronise Mandurah largely, and many huge catches of fish have been chronicled by them on their return to the fields from their holiday. Very large kingfish are frequently caught with hand-lines. Almost any kind of line will do; it is amusing to see the greedy things snapping at anything you put on the hook. I saw one caught that measured 5 feet in length and weighed 38 lb. Black bream weighing 4 lb. are a common catch. Hosts of crabs are about, making the fishing more exciting than ever. At one time I thought fishing the slowest amusement in the world, but after this experience at Mandurah I am convinced that there is some fascination in it after all. In two days a visitor caught 17 dozen whiting, bream and mullet. The mullet is a delicious fish, more like salmon than anything. Some English people staying at the hotel said it was quite equal to the English salmon. As you may imagine, plenty of well-cooked fish is always supplied at table, and any one requiring a quiet and enjoyable rest from city troubles cannot do better than visit Mandurah, where, in addition to the splendid fishing, other sports can be indulged in, since plenty of good duck, teal and snipe shooting is to be got at the lakes 5 miles out.

LUNATIC ASYLUM, W.A.

Returning to Pinjarrah, I drove out to a fine orange grove. Some idea of its character can be gained from the fact that some well-known fruiterers of Perth bought four trees from the owner at £100 per tree, and, after ripening and picking, made £50 profit per tree. The Drakesbrook Experimental Government Farm is about 12 miles off, and I there saw enormous cucumbers, pumpkins, and other vegetables.

Seven miles farther on are Millar’s Yarloop Mills. The export from these mills is very large; 21 sailing ships and 15 steamers were employed to take away the timber to various places last year. The settlement presents a busy appearance. When the train stopped over 100 men came from the mills to get their newspapers and see if there was any one they knew in the train. I left the train and looked for an hotel to put up at, but there is none; however, I obtained comfortable quarters at a private house. There are several mills connected with Yarloop, among them Iron Pot, so called from a conical hill near to it. Hoffman & Waterhouse’s Mills are 13 miles away, and are connected by telephone with the head mill. The office is very handsomely built of jarrah lined with polished wood, tongued and grooved. Much of the wood of Western Australia is suitable for small manufacturing purposes, such as making picture-frames, walking-sticks and knife-handles, while the jam-wood, with its aromatic perfume, is the very thing for pipe-making. I am sure a large trade could be worked up in that business.

Some beautiful artistic work in jarrah carving has lately been done by Mr. Howitt, of Perth, and was shown at the Paris Exhibition. One piece especially, a font, is most exquisitely carved. Besides these jarrah carvings, Mr. Howitt has made some panels from the following Australian woods—karri, tuart, redgum, sandal-wood, raspberry jam, banksia, she oak, prickly pear, York gum, blackbutt, wandoo and morrell; each of the panels is decorated with a carving of the tree’s foliage. I also saw at Robertson & Moffat’s furnishing warehouse, before leaving Perth, a handsome dinner-waggon made from seventeen kinds of Western Australian woods, with which, besides the before-mentioned woods, salmon gum, gimblet, castor-oil, swamp gum, and curly jarrah were most artistically introduced in the mosaic part, and with the handsomely carved typical swan on the top made a very effective piece of furniture.

The Chamber of Commerce, Prague, Bohemia, have recently written to Mr. Ulrich, of Fremantle, asking for specimens and samples of Western Australian woods to be sent to that place with a view to future business; and when the beauty and excellence of the woods become more generally known I think they will be put to more artistic uses than wood-paving. Outdoor enjoyments are yearly coming into more favour, and the demand for outdoor chairs, seats, and tables must increase. The jarrah-wood never shrinks, and being of a beautiful dark red colour does not require paint. The timber resources of the colony are marvellous, and it is estimated that it would take fully a century to exhaust the now matured trees, while fresh ones would be growing all the time.

The Harvey agricultural area, 9 miles from Yarloop, comprises 43,000 acres; of this 19,803 acres have been surveyed into 155 plots. The land is splendid for fruit and vegetables, and there are a good many selections, 10,000 acres having already been taken up. The soil is rather heavy, and expensive to clear and drain. The Korijekup Estate is managed by Mr. Asche, and is well under cultivation, the oranges grown there being especially fine. There are good paddocks for horses to run in, and the next time our family steed is sent out to grass it will be to Korijekup. There are about 12 homesteads on the estate, occupied by different families. The pasture lands are very good, and the soil well adapted for strawberry and gooseberry growing. There are about 10 acres of these delicious fruits under cultivation. The manager’s house and men’s quarters are near the river, the latter a substantially built structure of slabs, made 60 years ago by convict labour for Sir James Stirling, to whom the land was originally granted (in lieu of payment of salary). In the winter time there are a great many trappers about, who gain a good living by trapping the native bear and opossum, for the skins of which they get 9s. per dozen in Perth. The grey skins, when edged with black, make beautiful rugs for a cold climate, but the winters in Western Australia are so mild that things of that kind are not required. In the early days the old coach-road to Perth from Bunbury passed near Korijekup, and where there were formerly only halting-places many flourishing farms now stand. The land about there is very suitable for dairying, the grass being green all the year round; the soil is brown loam, interspersed with rich black swamps, and suitable for intense culture.

Another 15 miles brought me to Collie Station, where I took the branch train to the Collie coalfields. Until recently these fields have been somewhat neglected, but are now coming into great favour, the coal got there having been proved to be of excellent quality, and now being extensively used. The Government have decided to use it on the railways, and many of the shipping merchants trading to different places have also signified their intention of using it. The Smelting Works at Fremantle are following suit; householders are consuming it largely, and I can state from my own experience that it is excellent coal, which never goes out, but burns to the last bit, just leaving clean brown dust behind. It will in time be a mine of wealth to Western Australia and constitute a great industry, making work for thousands of coal-miners, for the deposits of coal are almost limitless. Bores have been used in different parts of the field, and have proved the existence of enormous bodies of coal. The Collie coal-mine has recently been bought from the Collie Company by Mr. Zeb Lane, for the British Westralia Syndicate, and is now called the Collie Proprietary Coalfields of Western Australia.

Collie is a very pleasant little town, with some hotels, several stores, and many snug and pretty dwellings. One usually thinks of a coal-mining town as an uninteresting, grimy place, but Collie is nothing of the kind. In the midst of a magnificent jarrah forest, at an elevation of 600 feet above sea-level, this place has, I imagine, a brilliant future before it. The air is delightfully bracing; the sea breeze blows in from the coast, and in the near future, when the gardens now being planted by the men on their residential plots have come to maturity, the miners will be able, after their work underground, to sit under their own vine or fig-tree and enjoy the pipe of peace. This is not a mere form of words, but will be solid fact, for the ground is so good that, beside containing coal underneath, it will grow all kinds of products on its fertile flats and valleys.

Many of the men are making very comfortable homes for themselves; they can see that the field is permanent, and that they may hope to remain here. Collie will, I predict, be in the future one of the principal towns of the colony.