“To J. murphy: thars 5 kows of yourse runnin in mi paddock and if they aint tuk out be Frida nite ime goin to sit the lor agen yer; ime on the binch and ile make it warm for yer.”
The little hotel at Dongarra proved very comfortable, and next morning I resumed my journey in the train, which took all day. In the afternoon we stopped for awhile at a place called Watheroo. I gathered a pretty bunch of wild flowers while waiting; some red ones especially took my fancy. They smelt very sweet, something like honeysuckle. I found that they were of the “verticordia” species, and that they grow in great profusion near the Irwin river. In the evening, at seven o’clock, I left the train at Gingin, for I wanted to see some of the famous orange and lemon groves there. After quite a pastoral supper at the little inn where I put up I retired early, feeling somewhat fatigued after my long journey in the slow train. In the morning I set out to see some of the groves. The forest scenery through which I passed looked particularly grand after the monotony of the goldfields, and the beautiful orange groves further enhanced the scene. I have seen oranges growing in various parts, but the fruit hanging here in golden clusters was the finest I had seen in Western Australia. In returning I stopped at a large garden, where strawberries and other fruits were growing; some children were picking the ripe fruit, which looked so tempting that I went to the door of the little homestead and asked whether I could buy some. “Oh, certainly, and cream, too,” replied the mother of the children, who had now come in with their spoils from the garden. After I had finished my unexpected treat, the mother put on her big white sun-bonnet (the usual head-covering in country parts), and, with the children following, showed me all over her selection and farm (which was a very fine one), and, with true Australian hospitality, pressed on me many gifts of fruit and flowers. There are about 350 people in the district of Gingin, mostly gardeners and graziers; all kinds of cereals are grown, as well as the fruits I have mentioned, and grapes of the finest quality are produced. Fat cattle and horses are also raised for export; a splendid clear stream of water runs near the township; sportsmen can have good shooting, for kangaroo; wallaby and wild duck are abundant in the vicinity of this pretty little place, which is 50 miles from Perth.
FREMANTLE
In the morning I took the train for Perth and Fremantle, and on arrival at the Perth railway station there, waiting for me, were my own horse and Ralli car. Didn’t we spin along through the park? I thought of the Mulga scrub and red dust “out back”; here the roads were red, but “with a difference,” and the grass and the trees delightfully fresh and green; surely the water never looked so sparkling. In and out through the trees along the winding road we drove, past the little villas, with their sweet gardens, up the hill, around the bend to the dearest spot on earth, “Home, sweet home.” The house and verandah were almost hidden by the glossy green leaves of the “Canadia” and passion vines; through the lattice of the fern-houses peeped the delicate pink blossoms of the tall ivy-geranium twined with the ever-flowering purple runner. The gate-porch and garden fence were embroidered from end to end with blue and green. Blue sea beyond, blue sky above. The gate was open, and thus my journey of two thousand miles came to an end. I hope that my record of it may help the reader to gain an idea of Western Australia.
Our hands are outstretched to our brothers and sisters across the sea. We want them to come and work with us. Energy and courage are the best cards to bring out to this big land. Should they wish to see the country for themselves, as I have done, I trust that my efforts will help to make their tour as easy as possible.
Like all new countries, it has its rough uncultivated tracts, but I have also tried to show that it has its “meadow sweet” as well. Hundreds of thousands of acres of the soil are waiting to be tilled by strong willing hands and to yield richly of its fruits, while underneath the earth is “golden,” “golden,” overhead the glorious sun is shining, and the Austral sky is blue.