ACROSS AUSTRALIA—TALLEST TREES IN THE WORLD.

Our friends were invited to visit a large wheat farm twenty or thirty miles north of Adelaide, and accepted the invitation with great pleasure. Leaving the city early in the morning, the railway train took them to a station a few miles from the farm, and there the owner met them in his carriage. After a substantial breakfast at the owner’s residence, they were driven to the field, or, rather, to one of the fields, where the work of harvesting was going on.

It roused their national pride somewhat to find that American reaping-machines were in use on the farm, and they also learned that the plowing was done with American plows. The field stretched out to an almost limitless extent, and it needed very little play of the imagination for the youths to believe that they were on one of their own western prairies instead of being at the antipodes.

The farm seemed to be managed in a most systematic manner, and before they departed the owner showed them a copy of the rules which the men were required to sign when they were engaged. Before signing, the rules were read to them line by line, and sentence by sentence, and each man acknowledged that he had a full understanding of the documents to which he affixed his signature.

Perhaps it may interest our readers to know something about these rules. Sixty men are employed on a farm throughout the whole year, and in the busy season three times that number are engaged. Here is the substance of the rules:—

“The bell rings at five o’clock in the morning, and this is the signal for everybody to get up. Horses are groomed and fed before six o’clock, and at that hour the men are served with breakfast. At seven o’clock the teams are harnessed, and teams and men go to the field. At noon one hour is allowed for rest and dinner, and then work goes on until five o’clock in winter and six o’clock in summer. Then the teams return to the stables, and the men get their suppers at seven o’clock. The horses are fed and watered at eight o’clock, and by ten o’clock everybody must be in bed.”

First-class hands on these farms receive twenty shillings ($5) per week, and employees of other grades are paid in proportion. One clause in the rules says that any man in charge of horses who abuses them or neglects to care for them properly will be discharged at once, and forfeit all wages that may be due him. Penalties are stated for every sort of offense, all of them being in the shape of fines or loss of situation, or both. Every laborer who begins in a low position is promised an advance in pay and place as a reward of his industry and good conduct.

“There are a good many farms of this sort in South Australia,” said Ned in his journal, “and we are sorry that time prevents our visiting all those that we have been invited to see; but our regret is modified by the recollection that one farm is very largely a repetition of another farm, and so we accept the situation and say nothing more about it. South Australia is a great wheat-growing country, and ships an immense quantity of wheat to England. In good years it produces fully fifteen millions of bushels for export, in addition to the quantity required for home consumption.

“Next in importance to the wheat crop in South Australia is the crop of wool. There are nearly seven millions of sheep in the colony, and between the wool and bread-stuffs, the income to the country is very considerable. We now understand the uses of the immense sheds, and the grain elevators that we saw when we landed at Port Adelaide. Large as they are, the capacities of these places of storage must be taxed to their utmost in busy times.

“They have given considerable attention to the cultivation of the grape. Grapes, apricots, peaches, and other fruits grow in great abundance, so much so that in the fruit season they are retailed in the market of Adelaide at a penny a pound, and all of them are delicious. Quite an industry is being developed in canning fruits for exportation, and it will probably increase gradually as the years go on.”

Our friends were invited to make a journey on the line of the Great Northern Railway, which is ultimately intended to reach the northern coast of Australia. The distance across Australia, from north to south, is about seventeen hundred miles; about four hundred miles of the line are completed, leaving thirteen hundred miles yet to be built. It will cost a great deal of money to finish the railway, but the people are ambitious, and will probably accomplish it in the course of time.

They already have a telegraph line, running for the greater part of the way through a very desolate region. For hundreds of miles there are no white people, except the operators and repairers at the stations, and in many places it is unlikely that there will ever be any inhabitants, as the country is a treeless waste, and, at some of the stations, water has to be brought from a considerable distance. Artesian wells have been bored at many of the stations; at some of them successfully, while at others it was impossible to find water.

The railway official who invited our friends to make the journey, told them that he was connected with the telegraph company at the time of its construction, and he gave an interesting account of some of the difficulties they encountered.

“The desert character of the country,” said the gentleman, “caused us a great deal of inconvenience. We were obliged to haul or carry provisions and material for long distances. Where it was practicable to use wagons we used them, but where we could not do so we employed camels. Camels were introduced into Australia forty or fifty years ago, and they have been a great deal of use to us in parts of the country where water is scarce. The conditions of Northern and Central Australia very much resemble those of the regions of Northern Africa, where the camel had its origin, or, at all events, where it abounds to-day in greatest numbers. Had it not been for the ‘Ship of the Desert,’ it is possible that we might not have been able to build the telegraph line across Australia. The camel is so highly appreciated here that the government has established several breeding stations for those ungainly creatures, and their number is increasing every year.

“You know already about the scarcity of water in the desert region. Springs are few and far between, and rain is of rare occurrence. It was frequently necessary to carry water thirty or forty miles, and on account of the great heat it was impossible to carry it in skins or in wooden cases, owing to the rapid evaporation. Cases or cans of galvanized iron proved to be the best receptacles for water, so far as evaporation was concerned, but they have the disadvantage of becoming cracked and leaky in the rough treatment to which they are subjected.

“Poles for the telegraph had to be hauled a long distance for a large part of the way. Iron poles are generally used, owing to an insect that destroys wood with great rapidity. I wonder if you have yet seen any of the ravages of this little creature?”

This last remark was made in the form of an interrogation, to which Harry responded that he had not yet observed anything of the kind, nor had his attention been called to it. Ned remarked that he had been told of the destructiveness of this worm, but had not yet seen anything of its work.

“If you had seen it you would remember it,” said the gentleman. “The worm abounds more in the country districts than in the city, and it does not seem to get so much into the city houses as it does into those of the rural districts. Suppose you settle in South Australia, and build yourself a house or buy one already built, and proceed to take your comfort. Some day when you are sitting in your parlor you suddenly feel a leg of your chair going through the floor, and down you go with a crash. Somebody runs to your assistance, and the additional strain put upon the floor causes the break to increase, and, together with the person who has come to your aid, you go down in a heap through a yawning chasm in the floor, no matter whether your room is carpeted or not. If it is the former, the ravages of the worm have been quite concealed by the carpet; while in the latter case the surface of the wood presents the same appearance, while the whole interior of the plank or board has been turned to dust. This sort of thing has happened in many an Australian house, and will doubtless continue to happen.”

Harry asked if there was any way of preventing the ravages of this destroyer.

His informant replied that there were two or three kinds of wood which these insects would not touch. Unfortunately, however, they were higher priced than ordinary wood, and consequently the temptation was to use the cheaper article. Houses could also be built of cement, brick, or other substances which defied the wood worm, but these, again, were expensive and could not be afforded by newly arrived emigrants, whose capital was generally very limited.

“Returning to the subject of the telegraph,” the gentleman continued, “we found a great deal of trouble with the insects destructive to wood, and then, too, we had considerable difficulty with the blacks, though less than we had anticipated. We managed to inspire them with a very wholesome fear of the mysterious fluid that passed through the wires, and though they have burned stations, and killed or wounded quite a number of our people, they have never meddled with the wires.”

“How did you manage to inspire them with such fear?” queried Harry.

“We did it in this way,” was the reply. “Whenever a native visited us, we managed to give him a shock of electricity, and if we could shock an entire group at once it was so much the better. On several occasions we got two or more of their chiefs at stations hundreds of miles apart, and then let them talk with each other over the wires. Where they were well acquainted, they were able to carry on conversations which none but themselves could understand. Then we would have them meet half way between the stations and compare notes, and the result was something that greatly astonished them. Savage people generally attribute to the devil anything they cannot understand, and they very quickly concluded that ‘His Satanic Majesty’ was at the bottom of the whole business and it would be well for them to let it carefully alone.

“An amusing thing happened one day when we were putting up a portion of the line. There was a crowd of native blacks watching us, and the principal man among them walked for an hour or two along the line, making a critical examination of the posts and wires and pacing the distance between the posts.

“When he had evidently made up his mind as to the situation he walked up to the foreman of the working party and said, with an accent of insolence:—

“‘My think white fellow one big fool.’

“When the foreman tried to find out his reason for expressing contempt in that way, he pointed to the telegraph line and said:—

“‘That piece of fence never stop cattle.’

“Before the foreman could explain what the supposed thing was intended for, he walked off with his nose very much in the air and never came near the telegraph line again, as far as we know.”

After a short laugh over the incident, one of the youths asked how far apart the stations were.

“The distances vary considerably according to circumstances,” said their informant. “In some places they are within thirty or forty miles of each other, and there are portions of the line where they are one hundred miles apart. There are two operators and two repairers at each station. These are all white men, and some of them have their families with them. In addition to the white residents at the station, there are all the way from two or three to eight or ten blacks. The blacks in our service are generally faithful, and we put a great deal of dependence upon them. Sometimes they are treacherous, but not often, as treachery is not a part of their nature.

“I was making a tour of inspection of the line shortly after it was completed, and happened to be at one of the stations at a time when the blacks were threatening trouble. One of the operators, Mr. Britton, was accompanied by his wife. Her husband wanted her to go to a place of greater safety, but she refused, and said she would stand by his side. She was a good shot with the revolver, and promised that in case of trouble she would put her abilities to a practical test.

“The blacks came about the station to beg, and also to ascertain the strength of the company, and one evening word came that they were going to have a corroboree in a little patch of forest near the station. Perhaps you don’t know what a corroboree is.”

Both of the youths shook their heads and acknowledged their ignorance.

“Well, it is a wild sort of dance, something like the dances among your American Indians, with local variations to suit the climate and people. The dancing is done by the men, who get themselves up in the most fantastic manner imaginable with paint of various colors. They daub their faces with pigments in streaks and patches, and trace their ribs with white paint, so that they look more like walking skeletons than like human beings. Generally at one of these dances they wear strips of skin around their waists, and ornament their heads with feathers.

“I said that the dancing was done by the men, though this is not absolutely the rule, as there are certain dances in which the women take part, though not a very conspicuous one. Generally the dances are by the people of one tribe, though there are a few in which several tribes take part. As a usual thing, however, this kind of a dance ends in a fight, as the dancers work themselves up to a condition of frenzy, and if there is any ill feeling among them it is sure to crop out.

“The dances in the neighborhood of the telegraph station to which I referred included men of several tribes, and we knew that mischief would be likely to come of it. Two of our black fellows went as near to the scene of the dance as they dared go, and from time to time brought us particulars of the proceedings.

“We got revolvers and rifles ready, Mrs. Britton taking possession of one of the revolvers, and loading it very carefully. All along during the evening we could hear the yelling of the natives at their dance, but an hour or so before midnight the noise diminished, and one of our black fellows came in to tell us that they were preparing to attack the station.

“The principal building of the station was a block house built for defense against the blacks, and strong enough to resist any of their weapons; but, of course, they would be able to overpower us by surrounding the place and starving us out, though we had little fear of that. The great danger was that they would come upon us in great numbers, and as we were not sufficiently numerous to defend all parts of the building at once, they could set it on fire and thus compel us to come out and be slaughtered.

“The warning brought by our black fellow proved to be correct. The men who had been engaged in the dance had left the scene of their jollification and moved in the direction of the station. We could hear their voices as they approached, and it was much to our advantage that the moon was of sufficient size to give a fairly good light. The station was in such a position that no one could approach it without being seen.

“In a little while we saw in the moonlight a mass of dark figures crossing the open space to the south, and, judging by the ground they covered, there were at least a hundred of them. They advanced quietly about half way across the clearing and then broke into a run, while they filled the air with yells. In a few moments they were all around the building, and quite a number of them threw their spears at it—a very foolish procedure, as the weapons could do no harm whatever to the thick sides of the structure. It was our policy not to take life or even to shed blood if we could possibly avoid it, as we were anxious to be on friendly terms with the black people along our line. I had been thinking the matter over in the evening, and suddenly hit upon a scheme that I thought would save us from injuring anybody, and at the same time give our assailants a thorough scare.

“There happened to be in the station a package of rockets, which had been brought along for signaling purposes during the work of construction. Just as the crowd of blacks reached the station, I asked Mr. Britton, the chief operator, to bring me one of the rockets.

“He complied with my request, and I fixed the missile so that it would go just above the heads of the crowd of yelling blacks. Then I touched a match to the fuse, and away sailed the rocket through the night air.

“Not one of those aboriginals had ever seen anything of the kind before. They started not upon the order of their going, but went as though pursued by wild tigers or guilty consciences. They could not have been more astonished if the moon had dropped down and exploded among them. They gave just one yell, and it was five times as loud as any yell they had previously given.

“In less than two minutes from the time the rocket was fired, there was not a hostile black man around the station. Our own black fellows had been trembling with fear, as they knew that, in case of capture, they would share whatever fate was in store for us, the wild blacks being greatly prejudiced against any one of their number who takes service with the whites. The crowd fled in the direction of the scene of their corroboree, but they did not stop there. We learned the next day that they ran three or four miles before coming to a halt.

“We saved the station and ourselves without shedding a drop of blood. The story was told by the blacks far and wide that we ‘shot a star at them.’ This gave us a hint on which we acted, and we took pains to circulate the report that we had power to bring all the heavenly bodies to our aid whenever we needed them. Several times we offered to chief of the tribe to bring down the moon, or any of the stars that he might designate, but for fear that he would take us at our word, we always said that we would not be responsible for the consequences. In view of these circumstances, he invariably asked us to leave the denizens of the heavens alone.

“All the attacks on our stations have not been as bloodless as the one I have just described,” the gentleman continued. “Three or four years after the line was opened the blacks attacked a station about one thousand miles north of Adelaide. One of the operators, Mr. Stapleton, was mortally wounded, and so was one of the line repairers. Both the other white men at the station were slightly wounded, and one of the blacks in our service was killed. The attack lasted only a short time, and the assailants were driven away by the well-directed fire of the people at the station.

“The mortally wounded operator, Mr. Stapleton, was placed on a couch, while the other operator was telegraphing the news of the occurrence to Adelaide. A doctor was called to the telegraph office in the city, and on learning the nature of the wound he pronounced it mortal. Mr. Stapleton’s wife was a telegraph operator, and was then employed in the station at Adelaide. A telegraph instrument was placed at the bedside of the dying man, and connected with the instrument on his wife’s desk. The two exchanged loving messages for a few minutes, and then the husband with his last efforts telegraphed an eternal good-by to his wife, dropped the instrument from his hand, and fell back dead. I was in the office at Adelaide at the time of this occurrence, and was one of those in the room where Mrs. Stapleton sat. Nearly all of those present were experienced operators, and could understand the clicking of the instrument. Every eye was filled with tears, and every heart was full of sympathy for the woman who had been so tragically widowed. As she received the final message of farewell she fell from her chair in a dead faint, from which she did not recover for hours.”

As the foregoing story was narrated to our young friends, their eyes, too, were moist, and so were those of Dr. Whitney, who was sitting close by them. Silence prevailed for several minutes, and then the conversation turned to other subjects.

The gentleman explained that the northern terminus of the telegraph line was at Port Darwin, where connection was made with the telegraph cable to Singapore, and thence to Europe. “I suppose, in time,” said he, “there will be other telegraph connections, but for the present this is the only one that Australia has with the rest of the world. Undoubtedly we shall one day have a cable to the United States, and that will certainly greatly facilitate commerce. At present, telegrams coming from your country to this must come by a very roundabout journey.”

Harry asked what course a telegram would be obliged to take in coming from San Francisco to Adelaide.

“Let me see,” said the gentleman; “in the first place, it would be telegraphed overland from San Francisco to New York, and then it would go under the Atlantic Ocean through one of the transatlantic cables, and then there would be two or three routes by which it could be sent. It could go by submarine cable to the Straits of Gibraltar, thence under the Mediterranean and Red Seas, and the Indian Ocean to Bombay, or it could cross Europe by one of the land lines, and then go through Russia and Persia to the north of India, reaching Bombay by the land route. From Bombay it would be telegraphed across India to Madras, and thence by submarine cable to Singapore, and from Singapore it would be sent by cable to Port Darwin, and thence by the Australian overland line to Adelaide. The message would be repeated six or seven times in the course of its journey, and the fact that so few mistakes are made in the numerous repetitions, many of them by people having an imperfect knowledge of English, speaks volumes in praise of the telegraph system.”

Both of our young friends heartily indorsed this remark, and agreed with their informant that the telegraph certainly performed excellent work.

Our friends made the journey along the line of railway to which they had been invited. They found it interesting though not altogether free from monotony, as there was an excessive amount of sameness in the country through which they traveled. They passed through a range of low mountains which were not sufficiently broken to be picturesque. They crossed several dry or slightly moistened beds of rivers, where indications were clearly visible that in times of heavy rains these dry beds or insignificant streams were turned to floods. Here and there the line crossed immense sheep farms and also great wheatfields, but there were wide stretches of land which seemed to have no occupants whatever. Most of the country was open and free from trees. Then there were other parts where the line passed for miles and miles through “scrub,” and at irregular intervals they came upon patches and stretches of Australian forest.

Harry noted that the forests through which they passed had very little undergrowth, so that it was easy to ride in any direction among the trees. Most of the trees that they saw were eucalypti, of which there are many varieties. The eucalyptus is by far the most common tree of Australia, and the best known variety is the one that is called “the blue gum.” It is said that fevers do not prevail where the eucalyptus grows, and this theory seems to be developed into a well-established fact. Decoctions and other extracts are made from the leaves, bark, wood, and gum of the eucalyptus and are given to fever patients with more or less success. The eucalyptus has been taken to foreign countries, and where the climatic conditions are suitable it has flourished and established itself. The French government introduced it into Algeria and planted it at military stations, where the soldiers had suffered much from malaria. At all those stations the malaria was long ago driven away by the trees, and places that were once unhealthy are now renowned for their salubrity.

The youths observed that most of the eucalyptus trees were tall and slender. The gentleman who accompanied them said that their trunks were often found with a diameter of ten to twelve feet, and some had been measured that were sixteen feet in diameter at a distance of ten feet from the ground. The trees grow very rapidly, and their timber when green is soft, so that they can be felled, split, and sawed very easily, but when dry it becomes very hard. It is a very useful wood, as it is adapted for many purposes. The bark contains a great deal of tannin, and it has become to some extent an article of commerce.

The leaves of the eucalyptus have a leathery appearance and generally stand in a vertical position, so that one side receives as much light as the other. A valuable aromatic oil is extracted from the leaves, and is used for medicinal and other purposes. It is said to be very objectionable to mosquitoes, and Harry was told that if he scattered a few drops of eucalyptus oil on his pillow at night, he would not be troubled with mosquitoes, even though there might be many of them in the room. He promised to try the experiment at the first opportunity.

Ned asked what variety of the eucalyptus was the tallest, and how tall the highest tree of Australia was.

“The giant gum, Eucalyptus amygdalina, is said to be the tallest tree in the world,” the gentleman replied. “I am not sure whether it is really so or not, as you have some very tall trees in the United States, and there are also some of great height in the valley of the Amazon River. I have heard of giant gum trees five hundred feet high, but their location has always been given very vaguely, and nobody knew by whom they had been measured. There is one giant gum tree on Mount Baw-Baw, in Gippsland, that has been officially measured by a surveyor and found to be four hundred and seventy-one feet high. What its diameter is at the base I am unable to say, but probably it is not less than fifteen or sixteen feet. New forests and new groups of trees are being discovered from time to time, and perhaps we will one day find a tree more than five hundred feet high.

“I will add,” said their informant, “that the giant gum is also called the ‘silver stem,’ because when it sheds its bark every year the new surface of the tree, when the old one has come off, is as white as silver. A group of these trees is a very pretty sight, as the trunks are perfectly round, and very often the lowest limbs are fully two hundred feet from the ground.”