My destination was Herbert Vale, a deserted cattle station on Herbert river. My first intention was to get there by way of Cardwell, a little coast town north of the mouth of Herbert river, from which the distance to Herbert Vale would be only twenty miles, while from Dungeness, which is situated at the mouth, it was at least forty miles up the river.
Meanwhile I learned that there were many obstacles in the way of reaching Herbert Vale from Cardwell. On the other hand, I was strongly advised to go to Dungeness and thence up the river by boat to some sugar plantations, where I should have more chance of obtaining the necessary horses than at Cardwell. Besides, I had a letter of introduction to one of the largest plantation-owners there, and knowing from experience how valuable such an introduction might be in uncivilised districts, I decided to go by way of Dungeness.
In the afternoon, one or two hours before the departure of the little coast steamer, I went down to the captain to buy a ticket for Dungeness. All my baggage had already been sent on board marked “Cardwell.” I requested the captain to look after it and have it sent ashore, and showed him where it stood. But no sooner did he see that it was marked “Cardwell” than he began to insist that I was obliged to go to Cardwell. In vain did I strive to maintain my right to go where I pleased. The captain insisted that I must go to Cardwell, and not to Dungeness. He was one of those rough fellows whom we occasionally meet on the borders of civilisation, and it was the first time that I made the acquaintance of a specimen of that amiable race of Northern Queensland—the rough northern men, as they are called.
I of course realised that every argument was superfluous; and therefore made no objections, thinking matters would right themselves in due time. The captain went down into his cabin, and I was on the point of going ashore, wondering how so small and modest a boat really could contain so mighty a man, when my eyes fell upon one of the crew, who looked more accommodating than the others. I told him who I was, and that I was bound for Herbert Vale, where I was to collect specimens of natural history for the Christiania University. In proof of my statement I pointed to my red-painted spirit cans which were marked, “University of Christiania, Norway.”
“Why, are you Norwegian?” asked he with the usual coolness of a sailor; “I am also from Christiania, and the captain yonder is from Horten,” he added, in a genuine, broad Christiania dialect, pointing to a little steam-ferry which lay moored by our side.
I expressed my surprise at meeting Norwegians so far up in the tropical north, and in the name of our common country I asked him to help me. He had heard my loud conversation with the captain, and exclaiming in a very disrespectful tone that what the captain had said was a matter of no moment, he at once began to have my baggage properly placed for my destination, Dungeness. In the evening we weighed anchor and started for the north. The captain came on deck intoxicated, as we were about to start, and so the crew took command. The next day we arrived safely at Dungeness at the mouth of Herbert river.
Hinchinbrook Island, a rocky isle rising to an elevation of about 2500 feet above the level of the sea and nearly always enveloped in fog, attracts the attention of the traveller. The few white people who heretofore have visited it were cedar-cutters. The valuable red cedar (Cedrela) grows in the dense scrubs along the rivers in Northern Queensland, and the timber is floated down the streams in the rainy season. Unlike the Australian spruce, which soon decays, the cedar log may lie a whole year in the woods before it is floated. The wood is as beautiful as mahogany, but not quite so firm and solid. It has been in such great demand that whole forests have been entirely exterminated in the most accessible places; it is the only wood exported from Queensland.
I at once proceeded in a boat up the river, whose banks for several miles are covered with mangrove forests. The landscape gradually widens into a broad and flat valley, with excellent sugar land, which is now thoroughly cultivated; a steam-plough even having recently been brought here. I was well received, but wholly failed to obtain horses, as I had expected. There was none to be hired, nor could any be purchased; hardly a saddle could be procured in this comparatively uncivilised district.
A NATIVE MAN FROM CENTRAL QUEENSLAND, NEAR ROCKHAMPTON.