With a quarter of an hour allowed for refreshments, we step out and stretch our legs, have a cup of tea, obtain a couple of good havanas, and again resume our seats, and passing outwards towards the crest of the range obtain a very fair view of the town and its surroundings, the excellence and fertility of the soil being conspicuous on every hand.
Just as we commence the descent a lovely place is visible to the sight perched on a plateau at the summit of the range, a splendid orangery being a conspicuous feature in the surroundings, whilst the view obtainable therefrom would be hard to surpass in any part of the colony.
Onwards and downwards we go, mile after mile, the views from various points being magnificent in the extreme and extending for miles, comparing very favourably with some of the most romantic scenery of our own far-famed Blue Mountains. On round sharp curves, over spidery-looking bridges that look almost as though a strong gale would blow them over; across deep ravines fringed with beautiful shrubs and trees of every description, plunging through short tunnels built on the curve to such an extent in some instances that one wonders how on earth they managed to construct them safely—the whole forming a lasting monument to the engineering skill that managed to overcome the almost insurmountable obstacles that stared them in the face in their endeavours to open up railway communication between the capital of the colony and the Darling Downs. One particular feature of the journey struck me as an example worthy of imitation on the various lines throughout the different colonies. I allude to the numerous peach trees bordering the line, planted there by the gangs of fettlers employed in the maintenance of the permanent way between the summit of the range and Highfields, these trees being a treat to see during the summer months, and affording an ample supply of beautifully cool, juicy fruit during that time to the numerous employees on this heavy length of line.
Highfields, where we stay for a few minutes to replenish the water supply, is a most romantically situated spot, sheltered from the hot westerly winds that generally prevail on the Downs by a range clothed in verdure and greenery almost surpassing description, and I have often wondered why some speculative individual has not taken advantage of the natural beauties of this most charming retreat amongst the mountains and erected an hotel, to which the tired denizens of the city could resort during the hottest months of the year to renew their health and energy, feeling sure that the speculation would be one of the most profitable of its kind in the colony if properly carried out; for if our own colony can support hotels and boarding-houses by the dozen on the Blue Mountains, surely the colony of Queensland could maintain one of the kind, at least, in such a lovely spot, with a perpetual spring of pure water available for every purpose, which would enable anyone to turn the place into a veritable paradise on earth.
Leaving Highfields, with its sanatorium still in the womb of the future, we proceed onwards and downwards, passing some magnificent blocks of freestone of excellent quality stacked along the line, awaiting conveyance, the quarry from which it is obtained being situate in a gorge of the mountains immediately below, and with a supply evidently inexhaustible. Past Murphy’s Creek, at the foot of the range, we shortly afterwards pull up at Helidon for tea, where the good opinion we have already formed of the quality of the meals supplied on the Queensland railways is still further strengthened; the establishment being under the control of an old friend of mine, with whom I had often spent a pleasant hour in Brisbane, when he was managing a very large business venture in that city. Very pleased indeed we were to meet again; but the iron horse allows of scant delay, so with a hearty grip we part—I to resume my journey, and he to remain looking after the wants of travellers like myself; and if they never get into worse hands they will never take much harm.
Night has now settled down upon us, and shortly after passing Grandchester, with its beautiful plane trees growing alongside the station, I drop off to sleep, passing the intervening stations, including Ipswich, with very faint recollections, and am finally roused by my travelling companion as the train slows down just outside the Brisbane terminus for the collection of tickets, about a quarter past ten at night.
Shortly afterwards, with our belongings stowed away on board a wagonette, we are on our way to the Metropolitan Hotel, where I renew an acquaintance extending over many years with its jolly proprietor, Mr. J. A. Philips, but unfortunately have to interview him in his own private room, as he was laid up with a severe attack of the gout, and unable to leave his bed.
However, I find him as jolly as ever, making light of his affliction, and looking upon it as a matter of course; but he takes good care that our wants are duly attended to; and shortly afterwards, pretty well tired out with the long journey, I retire to rest, and sleep the sleep of the just until roused by the loud tones of the gong calling me to breakfast in the morning.
Just to give your readers an idea of the time occupied on the overland journey between Sydney and Brisbane I will summarise it as follows:—
We left Sydney on Monday night at half-past eleven; arrived at Newcastle early next morning; left there by train at a quarter-past seven a.m. on Tuesday; travelled all that day, reaching the present terminus at Tenterfield at a quarter-past one on Wednesday morning; left there at six a.m. the same morning by Cobb’s coach, and arrived at Wallangarra about eight o’clock, finishing the journey at Brisbane at a quarter-past ten the same night.