Cattle crossing the Darling River
Thursday, July 21st.—The train reached Tenterfield about one o'clock this morning, and we drove straight to the Commercial Hotel, where we found comfortable rooms and blazing fires. Everything looked clean and tidy, and a cold supper awaited belated travellers, of whom there were many besides ourselves. I was awakened at 7.30 a.m. by the sun shining gloriously through the windows of my room. The air felt delightfully fresh, reminding one of a lovely spring morning in England about April. Soon after eleven came Mr. Walker, of Tenterfield, who had kindly called to show us everything worth seeing in the township near his station. His is a large holding, even for Australia, 300 square miles in extent, and stretching fourteen miles in one direction and eighteen in another.
After lunch all the party except the children, who were out riding, started in two waggonettes for Tenterfield Station. The township of Tenterfield, like all new Australian towns, is laid out in square blocks, with corrugated iron houses, and various places of worship for different denominations. The views of the country around are pleasing, and the land looks fairly fertile, and is well wooded, with distant mountains seen through purple haze. We first went to the settlement at the station, where we saw a good thoroughbred horse, 'Cultivator,' who has done well in racing both at home and in the colonies; 'Lord Cleveland' (son of the 'Duke of Cleveland'), a good coach-horse with fair action, eighteen hands high; and a little cart-horse with sloping shoulders, short bone between fetlock and knee, and square back like a thoroughbred shorthorn bull.
From the stables we went to look at the old store which in days gone by used to be sufficient for the needs of the whole neighbourhood for a hundred miles round. Then we proceeded to the wool-shed, built of corrugated iron, the wooden shed having been burnt down. Mr. Walker has about 70,000 head of cattle usually, and from 50,000 to 100,000 sheep, but his stock is somewhat reduced this year on account of the long drought. He has 300 thoroughbred Berkshire pigs, besides some wonderful milch cows and a fine Jersey bull. The cows are much wilder here than they are at home, and Mr. Walker has a most ingenious contrivance for securing the animals for milking. They are driven through a large gate into a passage, which gets narrower and narrower until it reaches a point where the cow can be secured.
Sheep crossing River
After looking at the station buildings we went into the house, a comfortable cottage residence with a nice verandah all round, and what must be a pretty garden in summer. Even now it is full of violets, and some fine specimens of English trees—oaks, elms, limes, and pines. After tea we went for a second drive all round the township, and up some low hills to get a view of the town from a distance and of the mountains from a different point of view. Next we took a few photographs, and should have taken more had not the focussing-glass of the camera got broken. Then we drove back into the town, and, I think, round almost every street, and saw all the public buildings, which are indeed creditable to such a new and rising township. We dined again at the table d'hôte, and after dinner Mr. and Mrs. Walker called with all sorts of stuffed birds and beasts and other curiosities, which they had kindly brought as a remembrance of our visit. They took off Mabelle to a concert, for which the superior of the convent had sent to beg my patronage in the morning. I could not promise to be present, and was much startled during dinner to hear that old-fashioned English institution, the crier, going round with his bell and lustily announcing that a concert 'was to be held this evening under the patronage of Lady Brassey and the Honourable two Miss Brasseys.' He kept walking up and down shouting this out until the concert commenced, and when he disappeared the Salvation Army appeared upon the scene with a brass band, the sounds of which are still ringing in my ears as I am trying to write this, preparatory to going to bed betimes to secure some rest before an early start in the morning.
Friday, July 22nd.—This was evidently not to be a night of rest for me. Between one and two I was awakened by the first arrivals by the mail train. At three o'clock people began to get up and go away, and we could fully appreciate how Australian buildings let in every sound. Between four and five the bugle sounded to call the gallant New South Wales Light Horse to parade. At five o'clock I was called. It was a cold, bright morning, with a hard frost, and as soon as my fire and lamps were lighted I got up and began preparing for the journey. We heard much galloping of horses in the early morning, and soon gentlemen in scarlet uniforms began to appear from various parts. We waited until a quarter to seven, and then, as our proffered escort did not turn up, we had to go to the station without it, for fear of missing the train. Five gallant members of the troop joined us on the way. The commanding officer wore blue undress uniform, and the others were in scarlet. It was amusing, on our way to the station, to see late-comers galloping furiously along the road, and it needed a little judicious delay to enable the scattered troopers to collect themselves and form into line. At the station we met our old friends the Chinese Commissioners, looking very curious in travelling-gowns over their national costumes.