SUGAR-MILL, HUXLEY, ISIS RAILWAY

A FIELD OF MAIZE, EEL CREEK, GYMPIE

The farmers of Queensland may well lay to heart the experience of America. Forty years ago disaster overtook every attempt at cultivation west of the Mississippi basin until the aid of irrigation was invoked. The response to the application of water was immediate, and millions of acres are now under intense cultivation in the dry belt, and supporting a population far outnumbering that of Australia.

These are the words in which an American writer graphically describes the wonderful work that has been done on lands that bear a striking resemblance to those of Western Queensland both in regard to climate and soil:—

The actual amount of land that may be reclaimed and cultivated in the semi-arid region furnishes no measure of the value of irrigation in this vast district. By enabling thousands to engage in farming, irrigation has made it possible to use the surrounding plains as the pasture for great numbers of beef cattle. In many instances small herds are owned by the farmers themselves, but to a large extent their crops are bought by those whose sole business is cattle-raising. Thus all the resources of the region are brought into use, and a wonderful prosperity has followed as the logical result.

From Canada to Mexico the revolution of the Great Plain is now in full tide. It is the most democratic page in the history of American irrigation. It has saved an enormous district from lapsing into a condition of semi-barbarism. It has not only made human life secure, but revolutionised the industrial and social economy of the locality.

To a considerable extent it has replaced the quarter-lot with the small farm, and the single crop with diversified cultivation. It has transformed the speculative instincts of the people into a spirit of sober industrialism. It has raised the standard of living and improved the character of the homes. It has planted the rose bush and the pansy where only the sunflower cast its shadow, and it has twined the ivy and the honeysuckle over doors which formerly knew not the touch of beauty. It has made neighbours and society where once there were loneliness and heart-hunger. It has broken the chains of hopeless mortgages and crowned industry with independence.

The history of irrigation in the United States reads like a romance. Competent authorities have expressed the opinion that truly scientific farming is only possible where irrigation takes the place of rain, and where the elements of fertility are retained in the soil. American experience supports this view. Farms of from ten to forty acres support whole families in comfort, if not in affluence, and one acre yields as much as five of the best land in the rainfall belt. Whether land is used for mixed farming or crop cultivation, the best results are achieved when moisture can be applied or withheld according to the needs of the crop. Without irrigation, crops may be more certain in the coastal belt and on the intermediate tableland, but with irrigation the advantage will undoubtedly lie with our Western lands. A downpour may do irremediable harm to a ripening crop or at harvest time, and to that danger the plain lands of the interior are less liable than those in the region of heavier rainfall.

In some parts of Queensland, principally near the coast, irrigation has already attained some prominence. In 1907 water was applied artificially to 9,612 acres. Of this area, 4,492 acres were in the Burdekin Delta, the water being drawn from the Burdekin, from lagoons, and from wells. The rainfall is comparatively light, and the marked increase in the cane crop on the irrigated lands is apparent to the most casual observer. In the Bundaberg district 2,350 acres were irrigated from the Burnett River and from wells; the vegetable and fruit growers of Bowen irrigated 356 acres; and water was applied to 482 acres in the neighbourhood of Rockhampton. Artesian water was supplied to 100 acres at Barcaldine and 240 acres at Hungerford far out on the New South Wales border.

In the Western States of America, where water is measured out with mathematical accuracy and applied with clockwork regularity, agriculture has been raised almost to the rank of an exact science. The soil of Western Queensland is quite equal to that of the States in fertility, and similar methods should here produce similar results. When even the sterile Sahara is gradually disappearing before the irrigation works of French engineers, there is no need to despond regarding the future of the very driest parts of Queensland.

In Egypt and Spain and in several of the American States, the water for irrigation is obtained from perennial streams drawing their supplies from distant snow-clad mountains. Kansas differs in this respect from other States. The description of the rivers of Western Kansas by an American humorist might have been penned with equal appositeness of the rivers of Western Queensland: "They are a mile wide, and an inch thick; they have a large circulation, but very little influence." Fortunately for Kansas, water is everywhere procurable by sinking shallow wells. In Dakota and Texas, thousands of millions of gallons are poured on to the land daily from thousands of artesian wells. Though lofty mountain chains are lacking, with summits high above the line of perpetual snow and giving birth to rivers rivalling Nile and Mississippi in volume, both of these latter sources of supply are available in Queensland. East and west of the Great Divide, abundance of water has been obtained from wells. Our western rivers may flow intermittently on the surface, but sub-artesian water is plentiful in many localities, and the great artesian basin, with its area of no less than 372,000 square miles, coincides generally with that part of the State which has a rainfall of 20 inches or less, a wise Providence having apparently created this huge subterranean reservoir to guard against excessive evaporation and to compensate for the light rains.