The tanning industry is well represented. I saw splendid samples of plain and fancy leather when visiting Mr. Hay’s factory; one enormous side weighed 39 pounds, kangaroo skins are also tanned and make a beautiful shiny leather. Kangaroo meat is eaten here, although beef and mutton are plentiful. Many people seem to prefer “Roo” steak. I confess I was rather surprised at breakfast to hear the waiter, in reading the menu, mention the latter dish. I did not test it, but at dinner tried kangaroo-tail soup, and found it really excellent. The much-esteemed Roman Catholic priest, Father Gibney, brother of Bishop Gibney, lives in York, and also has a pretty little place (which is his hobby) called Springfield, about three miles out. The Rev. Father has hundreds of fruit-trees of different kinds, and quite an orangery. I brought away several branches with eight or nine oranges on each as mementoes of my very pleasant visit. There are some good buildings, a fine Post Office, Mechanics’ Institute, Court-house, and some handsome churches, as well as many good shops. York is one of the oldest Western Australian towns, and enjoys the distinction of being the place where the first official execution took place in 1840. The wife of a settler, Mrs. Cook, and her infant, were murdered by aborigines during the absence of her husband. The murderers escaped into the Bush, and were only brought to justice through a tribal quarrel which resulted in some natives betraying them. They were conveyed to the scene of their crime and hanged in chains, in the presence of a large gathering of natives. Up to this time there was an impression amongst the natives that an absence in the bush, long or short, absolved them from punishment. This execution dispelled any idea of that kind which they may have entertained, and taught them a wholesome lesson.
A very well-known person in early times was called the Duke of York. He used to go between Perth and York in a little cart carrying goods, not least of which was a keg of rum, the virtues of which would have been even more warmly appreciated if the old fellow had left it in its natural state, and not mixed so much aqua pura with it. His descendants have risen in the world, and in place of the keg of rum of their ancestor have now bonded stores of large extent.
On leaving York en route for Perth the train journey was rendered delightful by the beautiful carpet of wild and many-coloured flowers on each side of the line. As the train sped past the idea struck me that these flowers—lovely immortelles, white, pink, and yellow, growing in countless millions—could be turned to good account. Conversing with a Westralian (white) native in the train, I find such a thing had never been thought of, and what could be made a source of wealth by some energetic people seems here hardly to be noticed. Thousands of crosses, wreaths, anchors, screens, fans, and other decorations could be made of these flowers, and would, I am sure, command a ready sale on the Continent, especially in France, where there is such a love of flowers for ceremonial purposes. At present, like the boronia, which usually seems to waste its sweetness on the desert air, they appear to be not much admired, except by people travelling through the country, who cannot fail to be impressed, like myself, by their beauty. For perfumery purposes, the little coffee-coloured boronia must have a great future before it, as well as the lovely immortelles. My friend in the train said, “I don’t think they are much good.” He put me in mind of the soldier, a good many years ago, who, on the defeat of Parses the Persian, found a bag of shining leather filled with pearls. Not knowing their value, he threw them away, but kept the leather bag, saying, “What was of no use could be of no value.”
Moirs’ Buildings
CHAPTER III
Perth—Public Buildings—Yacht Clubs—Government House—Recreation Ground—Lovely Perth Park—“Bond or Free.”