“It seems to me that it is a great misfortune for Australia that each colony insists upon having its own particular gauge of track, thus preventing the running of through trains without change of cars. Some day the people will find out their mistake, and I believe some of them realize it already. Dr. Whitney says that there was at one time in the United States several different gauges of track from four feet, eight inches and one half up to six feet, and that the railway managers generally agreed upon four feet, eight inches as the standard gauge. Since that agreement all other tracks have been changed to make the tracks uniform. Now any railway car can be run all over the United States, with the exceptions of a few special lines where the gauge is three feet, six inches.
“Three feet, six inches is the gauge of the railways of Queensland. That of New South Wales is four feet, eight and one half inches, while that of Victoria is five feet, three inches. In South Australia some of the lines are of five feet, three inches gauge, and others have the same gauge as the Queensland railways. The narrow gauge is especially adapted to mountain regions, and also to thinly populated districts. On lines where the business is light and the distances are not long, this gauge answers all requirements, but on many lines, especially those having considerable business, it is not at all advantageous.”
During their railway ride our friends observed the strange combination of aboriginal and English names, and called Dr. Whitney’s attention to it. “Here are Coolongolook and Coonabarabran,” said Harry, “and next come Clarkeville and Smithville. Here are Cootramundra and Illawarra and Murrumbidgee close by Orange and Richmond. Here are Curabubula and Waggawagga, with Warwrick and Union Camp. I could go on indefinitely with those names, and it seems to me that the aboriginal ones are about as numerous as those of British origin. They are picturesque and perhaps interesting, but they are very difficult to pronounce.”
“Isn’t it possible that you will find the same state of things at home?” queried Dr. Whitney.
“Quite possible; I have never thought of that. Let me see.”
“Why, certainly,” said Ned. “Go to Maine and New Hampshire and run over some of the Indian names of lakes, rivers, mountains, and towns in those States. Think of Kennebec and Penobscot, Winnipesaukee, Pemigewasset, Passaconaway, and a good many others that I could name. I think it is an excellent policy to preserve these old names and not let them die out. Piscataqua is a much prettier name for a river than Johnston or Stiggins, and Monadnock sounds better as the name of a mountain than Pike’s Peak or Terry’s Cliff. The more the native names are preserved, the better I like it.”
“I agree with you,” replied Harry; “but I wish they would make the orthography of those native names a little easier. That’s the only fault I have to find with them.”
The region through which our friends traveled was devoted to agricultural and pastoral pursuits, as the numerous flocks of sheep, herds of cattle, and fields of grain that they saw gave evidence. They were told that it was also rich in minerals,—the few surveys that had been made resulting in discoveries of gold, tin, silver, antimony, and other metals. Some of the passengers whom they met on the train were under the impression that Dr. Whitney was looking for a place in which to invest money, and they were very anxious that he should stop and investigate their promising properties. Several fine specimens of gold-bearing quartz rock were exhibited, and the fortunate owners of these specimens said that the ground was covered with them in the locality where they were obtained. Dr. Whitney politely declined to delay his journey, and assured his zealous acquaintances that he was not looking for any new investments.
When our friends were out of earshot of the would-be speculators, Dr. Whitney said that their statement reminded him of an incident which once occurred at a town in California, where a quartz mill was in successful operation. Harry and Ned pressed the doctor to give them the story, whereupon he related as follows:—
“There were many speculative individuals around that town who were constantly endeavoring to discover deposits of ore. One day one of these speculators was standing on a street corner, when a solemn-faced Indian came along, stopped in front of the man, and, after looking around in all directions to make sure that nobody was observing him, he produced from under his blanket a piece of gold-bearing quartz. Without saying a word, he held the bit of rock before the eyes of the speculator.