THE town of Wentworth is situated1 about a quarter of a mile above the junction2 of the Murray river with the little larger Darling, and, but for being a little larger than the usual run, is a typical bush township. She boasts a fine main street, a superabundance of hotels, a substantial gaol3, a court house, several churches, a fire brigade, and a population of 801 souls. We explored the main street, sampled the hotels, visited the gaol (not professionally), climbed to the top of the fire tower, took the churches for granted, and carried away a good opinion of as many of the 801 souls as we were made acquainted with. It was a warm day, 114° in the shadow of the stone verandah of the court house. A bulldog lay panting on the doormat of the police office; he said it was quite hot enough for him; as for us, we were not only roasted but a trifle overdone4.
Hospitality and conviviality5 are the watchwords of the Wentworthians, and if we had accepted all the invitations we received, we should have been hopelessly incapable6 before we had been an hour in the place.
Fortunately, however, just before sundown the River Murray Steam Navigation Company’s boat ‘Nellie’ puts in an appearance round the bend, and after describing a stately circle draws up at the town wharf7. She is a magnificent, white-painted, three-decked affair; the engines and crew are located on the first deck, the saloon and passengers on the second, while a smoking room and the wheel house are situated high up aloft, almost on a level with the funnel8. Everything is up to date, even to the extent of a gorgeous name plate and a stewardess9. As soon as she is alongside (the boat, not the stewardess) we step aboard and introduce ourselves. The captain has instructions to look after us, and we place ourselves under his care forthwith.
After tea, in the eye of one of the most glorious sunsets I have ever seen, a sunset which streaks11 the sky and river into a perfect kaleidoscope of ever-changing colours, we return on board, and the order is given to ‘cast loose.’ With a tinkling12 of falling water, the head and stern lines are thrown off, somebody sings out ‘All clear astern,’ and the ‘Nellie’ wheels majestically13 round into mid-stream, whistling furiously. The captain takes the wheel, the stewardess throws a farewell kiss ashore14, and we ascend15 to the smoking deck, draw chairs forrard of the wheel house, light our pipes, and prepare to enjoy the beauties of the evening.
It is indeed a glorious night. Hardly a sound save the throbbing16 of the engines and the splashing of the paddle wheels, somewhere deep down in the mysterious regions beneath us, breaks the stillness. The evening star is just beginning to twinkle, a last lingering touch of sunset lies low upon the horizon, and on either hand the reflections in the mirror-like water surpass belief. Trees, cows, boats, and citizens are all reproduced with a faithfulness to detail bordering on the magical.
About five minutes after leaving the wharf we reach the point where the mighty17 Darling joins the still mightier18 Murray, which, thus reinforced, continues her journey to the sea nearly six hundred miles distant. Strange to say, after their junction, for some reason of their own, the waters refuse to assimilate, and on this account, for many miles, that on one bank is of a sombre muddy hue19, while that on the other is of a bluer and much more transparent20 colour. It is as though each is struggling to maintain to the very last the supremacy21 it has so long enjoyed.
Owing to the heavy floods all along the valley of the Darling, she (the Darling) is much the bigger river. In fact, the Murray, in summer time, is hardly navigable above the junction. For miles ahead gleaming patches of white sand bestrew the course, and in and out of these treacherous22 banks we wind our way with wondrous23 delicacy24. One moment we are close in shore, so close that the boughs25 of the trees overhang our decks, only the next to be far out in the centre of the stream, dashing along at a comparatively furious pace. It is dangerous work, and our captain cheers us with the news that we shall probably go aground two or three times before we get to Mildura; in fact, just as he finishes speaking, there is a sound of much ringing in the engine room below, steam is suddenly shut off, and the next moment we are grating grimly over a sandbank. But this is only a narrow shoal, and in less than a minute we are back again in deep water, dashing along in and out of the treacherous patches as fast as ever. It is a wonderful exhibition of steering26, and we thoroughly27 enjoy it.
When the moon rises and reveals the dense28 primeval bush on either hand, the long stretch of river, and the weird29 grey patches of sand, the scene is impressively beautiful. But every moment the navigation is becoming more and more difficult, till presently the skipper, being afraid to attempt a certain channel without daylight, decides to tie up at the next wood pile. Taking his advice, we determine to turn in and endeavour to obtain some rest before the mosquitoes find us out; but we are too late, our comfortable cabins are chock full of the pests. We scratch and swear, swear and scratch, half the night. When they have worked their wicked will, and there is not a square inch of our anatomy30 unbitten, we fall asleep. It is hard upon four o’clock when next we wake.
Then, hearing voices on the smoking deck we ascend thither31, to discover a small coterie32 of pyjama-clad travellers taking advantage of the cool. The steamer is alongside another bank, and it is only on inquiry33 that we find that we are at our destination — Mildura. However, in this dim light (it wants an hour to sunrise) nothing can be seen of the township, so we join the circle, and exchange ideas on men and places for another hour, returning to our cabins just as the east is becoming suffused34 with the rosy35 herald36 of another day.
The view of Mildura obtainable from the river is certainly not beautiful, nor, I must say, is it calculated to impress upon a stranger the fact that he has arrived at the far famed Australian Irrigation
Colonies. A high hill hides the town, and the only buildings to be seen are the galvanised iron sheds ot the company’s engineering works, the top of Messrs, Chaffey’s office, the roof of the splendid new coffee palace, and the residences of Messrs. W. B. & Geo. Chaffey, on the summit of the hill.
After breakfast we climb this hill and approach the office, pausing in the garden to admire the wonderful wealth of flowers and shrubs37, and to listen to the cool splashing of the fountain. A pleasant office this, surrounded by a deep verandah, over which a luxuriant creeper twines38 its sinuous39 green arms.
As soon as we are announced, Mr. Waddingham (Messrs. Chaffey’s manager) hastens forth10 to receive us, and in a few moments introduces us to his principal (Mr. W. B. Chaffey) who welcomes us to Mildura, while at the same time he refers, in congratulatory terms, to our journey across the Continent.
After a brief delay, consequent upon Mr. Chaffey being called away on some business connected with the late unfortunate water troubles (which have had such a disastrous40 effect upon this struggling community), we are invited to accompany him on a drive round the settlement. This invitation we gladly accept.
In order that we may see and understand everything from the beginning to the end, we start with the great pumping stations. Here we behold41 these tremendous triple expansion monsters hard at work raising the water to the reservoirs and channels, in some cases a lift of eighty feet. Then, having made ourselves conversant42 with the means of raising the precious fluid, and admired the buildings themselves, which are admirably built and kept, we pass on to the channels which carry the water as great a distance as fifteen miles in every direction, and assist in irrigating43 no less than 10,000 acres of land. Then, resuming our drive, we inspect the holdings or blocks themselves, and in so doing drive along many fine roads and streets, each bordered with thriving trees, through whose interlacing boughs may be seen many neat, well-kept villas44 and tiny homesteads. Wonderful places are these selections, varying considerably45 in size, and wonderful is the growth to be observed upon them. Apricots, peaches, figs46, oranges, lemons, vines, all seem to thrive in the same luxuriant fashion, while every inch of ground testifies to the owner’s unbounded interest and never-ceasing care.
On either hand we see people hard at work. To our right we have a new comer clearing the timber from his patch, another ploughing, or grading his land for the reception of the water. Across the road, on our left, peeps forth the bungalow47 of an older colonist48. Further down the same street is a merry party of young Englishmen, hoeing for their lives; while on a corner block we are fortunate enough to catch a retired49 Indian official, working as though his very existence depended on it. They are all industrious50, and if we may judge by appearances, they are all contented51 with the prospects52 of the place.
In order that we may gather some idea of what the land was like before the Messrs. Chaffey took it in hand, we are driven, past a succession of lovely vineyards, over the border into the unreclaimed bush. What a scene is there! Eye-aching desolation, stunted53 timber, red sand, rabbits, and utter hopelessness! And yet not so hopeless after all, for looking across the boundary fence, we see acre upon acre, and mile upon mile of smiling prosperity, nestling homesteads, luxuriant orchards55, healthy vineyards, well-made roads, running water, and all the evidences of an advanced civilisation56. Mr. Chaffey, with a note of allowable pride in his voice, says, as he points from Mildura to this wilderness57, ‘Five years ago, that was all like this.’ It seems impossible I We look and look, and as we look, we feel like taking off our hats to the pluck and indomitable perseverance58 of the men who have wrought59 this marvellous transformation60. It is a wonderful and powerful argument; an argument that appeals to us, and one that, even if we wished to, we could not refute. Bravo! Messrs. Chaffey. You came, you saw, and you have certainly conquered. You have borne the burden and heat of the day; let no man grudge61 you your well-earned laurels62 !
Returning to the township, we are introduced to the Mildura Canning Factory, a most valuable institution, which purchases, uses, and disposes of as much of the product of the settlement as the settlers are able and inclined to sell.
And now let me say a few words with regard to those products themselves. There can be, in the first place, no doubt but that, with irrigation, the land will produce almost anything. Vines are, perhaps, most freely cultivated, but after them, apricots, peaches, figs, plums, oranges, and lemons are next in favour. Grapes are perhaps most popular, for the reason that they yield some return after the first year. A first class vineyard, in full bearing, should be worth something like 50l. a year per acre in a good season. A wine-making firm has lately opened in the settlement, and will purchase freely from the. settlers. Apricots, at present prices, would be worth over 40l. per acre on the trees, and for drying purposes have yielded from 8l. to 15l. per acre the third season. During this year as — much as 14l. per ton was obtained for apricots, and 18l. per ton for peaches. These prices would be equivalent to a return of about 4:01. or 601. per acre for each description of fruit, when the trees have come into full bearing.
It is computed63, and very fairly too, I think, that an industrious, painstaking64, and capable man might derive65 a profit of three hundred pounds a year from a ten acre block, when once the trees are fairly matured. But he will have to bring all his intelligence and energy to bear to do it. There must be no skrimshanking at Mildura.
After luncheon66 we drive out again in another direction, and inspect more and more blocks, meeting on every hand with the same cordial welcome, and nearly always coming away impressed with the same pleasing results. I say nearly always, because, of course, there must be some failures in such a gigantic undertaking67. But it is vigorously borne in upon us, by folk interested and uninterested alike, that these failures must, in the majority of cases, be attributed solely68 to the carelessness and idleness of their proprietors69, and not in any way to the failure of the land to fulfil its share of the contract. ‘The land will grow anything with water and proper care,’ was the universal cry; and certainly it would appear so.
Not being content with the assurances of the promoters alone, though I do not for one moment doubt the truth of what they tell me, I set myself to obtain the views of the landholders themselves, and with one exception, and only one, they are eminently70 satisfactory. There are differences of opinion in detail, it is true, but on the vital question of solidity and future prospects, I find but one voice. They (the settlers) intend to stick to their properties as tight as they know how, confident that in the not far distant future, that trust will be amply repaid to them. And surely it cannot be doubted that, with the enormous markets which must ultimately be found, not only in the great cities of Australia but throughout the whole length and breadth of the colonies themselves, letting the outside world stand as if it did not exist at all, there is a future before these Irrigation colonies of which none of us can have any possible conception.
Again, when the proposed railroad to Melbourne, 350 miles distant, across the vast mallee plains shall be completed, a ready market for early, well-packed, fresh fruit will be discovered which it is hoped will prove but another opening for wonderful Mildura.
On our return to the office we make the acquaintance of Mr. McKay, the able editor of the ‘Mildura Cultivator,’ a gentleman whose straightforward71 pluck and ability has done much to help forward the colony with which he has thrown in his lot. From his lips we learn the reason for, and the history of, the great water struggle; this was a bitter faction72 fight, which has done untold73 harm to the advancement74 of Mildura; and strangely enough, as from his Ups fall prophecies of future peace, a telegram from Melbourne parliamentary folk is handed in, announcing the satisfactory termination of the trouble.
By this time the sun is low down on the horizon, and we are due to partake of Mr. Chaffey’s hospitality in his own house. A short drive along the frontage of the town brings us to the entrance gates of as noble a mansion75 as the heart of man could desire. Winding76 drives, well trimmed lawns, sparkling fountains, and beds of gorgeous flowers, front this charming residence. A spacious77 conservatory78 occupies one end, and from the windows a most perfect view can be obtained of the river, and the settlement growing up along its bank.
Leaving the house, we return to the office to bid our kind friend Mr. Waddingham goodbye. After which, as the saloon bell is ringing for dinner, we re-embark upon our boat, and continue our down-river journey.
Next day at noon we reach Renmark. Here we have the pleasure of renewing our acquaintance with the Chaffey family, in the person of Mr. Charles Chaffey, who has charge of this younger colony. We make his acquaintance, as we made his brother’s, in the cool verandah-shaded office of the company, overlooking a lovely garden and two fine tennis courts.
After a brief chat on the prospects of Renmark, a well-appointed four-horse drag makes its appearance, and mounting it we proceed, under the able guidance of Mr. Chaffey, to explore Renmark as we did Mildura. Renmark, it must be remembered, is the younger of the two colonies, and has perhaps had more to contend against than her elder sister. But her troubles are happily over, the channels are safely concreted, and any future water difficulty provided against, so that we may soon expect to hear of astonishing results. As at Mildura, we inspect holding after holding with scrupulous79 care, examine the mighty pumps, observe with amazement80 the contrivances for carrying water over seemingly impossible levels, and finally after a charming drive through the bush, reach Bookmark Station, where we are afforded an opportunity of seeing some results of irrigation on a small scale.
Just as night is falling our steamer comes into view, trailing a cloud of sparks behind her, and when she puts in for us we bid ‘goodbye’ to the truly great Australian Irrigation colonies, and their representative, Mr. Chaffey.
It is a superb moonlight night, and warm enough to permit of our camping on deck. Fortunately, we are steaming against the breeze, so there are no mosquitoes. Strange thought, after all our wanderings: this is our last night in the Bush.
Next evening (Sunday), we are in Morgan, and at 7.80 on Monday morning catch the train for Adelaide.
The journey to the capital is monotonous81 and uninteresting. The distance is only about ninety miles, and yet it takes about four and a half hours to accomplish it. With the utmost eagerness we look out for the first sight of the blue waters of St. Vincent’s Gulf82, and when we do see it and realise that we have in reality crossed the entire Continent, what a strange feeling is ours! We reflect that it is a year and a month, almost to a day, since we left Normanton, and the Gulf of Carpentaria! It seems like twice the time!
And through what experiences we have passed since we bade ‘goodbye’ to Adelaide that stormy morning in December ‘91. Ours has been a long succession of tedious wanderings: we have seen many strange countries, we have covered thousands of miles of land and water, we have risked our lives, and suffered many privations, and with what result?
A greater knowledge of the world, a greater knowledge of men and manners, and the furtherance of a friendship that is all the stronger for being tried and tested in the red-hot fires of Poverty and Adversity. Dear old Long’un, firm friend and staunch companion, here’s a hand to you. Without your sterling83 pluck where should I have been on many queer occasions? Go on and prosper54 as you deserve! My only hope is that you may never regret the fateful day we twain set out together to see life ‘On the Wallaby.’
The End
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situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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junction
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| n.连接，接合；交叉点，接合处，枢纽站 | |
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gaol
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| n.(jail)监狱；(不加冠词)监禁；vt.使…坐牢 | |
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overdone
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| v.做得过分( overdo的过去分词 )；太夸张；把…煮得太久；（工作等）过度 | |
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conviviality
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| n.欢宴，高兴，欢乐 | |
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incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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wharf
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| n.码头，停泊处 | |
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funnel
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| n.漏斗；烟囱；v.汇集 | |
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stewardess
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| n.空中小姐，女乘务员 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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tinkling
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| n.丁当作响声 | |
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majestically
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| 雄伟地； 庄重地； 威严地； 崇高地 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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ascend
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| vi.渐渐上升，升高；vt.攀登，登上 | |
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throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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mightier
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| adj. 强有力的，强大的，巨大的 adv. 很，极其 | |
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hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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transparent
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| adj.明显的，无疑的；透明的 | |
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supremacy
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| n.至上；至高权力 | |
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treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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wondrous
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| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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delicacy
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boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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anatomy
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| n.解剖学，解剖；功能，结构，组织 | |
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thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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coterie
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| n.(有共同兴趣的)小团体，小圈子 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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suffused
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| v.（指颜色、水气等）弥漫于，布满( suffuse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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herald
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| vt.预示...的来临，预告，宣布，欢迎 | |
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shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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twines
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| n.盘绕( twine的名词复数 )；麻线；捻；缠绕在一起的东西 | |
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sinuous
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| adj.蜿蜒的，迂回的 | |
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disastrous
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| adj.灾难性的，造成灾害的；极坏的，很糟的 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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conversant
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| adj.亲近的，有交情的，熟悉的 | |
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irrigating
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| 灌溉( irrigate的现在分词 )； 冲洗（伤口） | |
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villas
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| 别墅，公馆( villa的名词复数 )； （城郊）住宅 | |
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considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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figs
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| figures 数字，图形，外形 | |
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bungalow
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| n.平房，周围有阳台的木造小平房 | |
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colonist
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| n.殖民者，移民 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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industrious
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| adj.勤劳的，刻苦的，奋发的 | |
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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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stunted
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| adj.矮小的；发育迟缓的 | |
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prosper
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| v.成功，兴隆，昌盛；使成功，使昌隆，繁荣 | |
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orchards
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| （通常指围起来的）果园( orchard的名词复数 ) | |
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civilisation
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| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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perseverance
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| n.坚持不懈，不屈不挠 | |
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wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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transformation
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| n.变化；改造；转变 | |
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grudge
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| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
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laurels
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| n.桂冠，荣誉 | |
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computed
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| adj.[医]计算的，使用计算机的v.计算，估算( compute的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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64
painstaking
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| adj.苦干的；艰苦的，费力的，刻苦的 | |
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65
derive
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| v.取得；导出；引申；来自；源自；出自 | |
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66
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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67
undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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68
solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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69
proprietors
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| n.所有人，业主( proprietor的名词复数 ) | |
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70
eminently
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| adv.突出地；显著地；不寻常地 | |
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71
straightforward
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| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
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72
faction
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| n.宗派，小集团；派别；派系斗争 | |
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73
untold
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| adj.数不清的，无数的 | |
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74
advancement
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| n.前进，促进，提升 | |
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75
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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76
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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77
spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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78
conservatory
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| n.温室，音乐学院；adj.保存性的，有保存力的 | |
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79
scrupulous
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| adj.审慎的，小心翼翼的，完全的，纯粹的 | |
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80
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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81
monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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82
gulf
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| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
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83
sterling
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| adj.英币的(纯粹的，货真价实的)；n.英国货币(英镑) | |
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