it is the centre of an extensive gold-mining district. On one side of
the main street is the railway station yard; on the other a first-class
hotel, a store, blacksmith's, wheelwright's, and butcher's shops,
besides several more business and dwelling houses. Most of the Asiatics
connected with the mines, occupy a portion of the town away back from
the main street.
Owing to the surrounding wooded hills and neighbouring gum creek the
general aspect of the place is prepossessing.
Of the Wandi goldfields, about 30 miles to the east, it is said that
several valuable properties exist there. But the climate is trying, and
properties in the district need to be very valuable indeed before
Europeans will infuse energy into their developement.
* * * *
This line from Pine Creek to Palmerston is spoken of as "the northern
section of the Transcontinental." I do not pose as one who can say with
authority whether it is advisable or not to complete the railway through
the continent. That is not my "line" at any rate. Nevertheless I have
formed opinions. Without any concessions at all from a leave-granting
government, with barely the permission given them to construct a
railway, and with even a squaring donation to the exchequer of a million
pounds or so, a band of reasonably, business-like, experienced,
company-promoters, I'm very sure, could make large fortunes in English
or French money out of the undertaking--for themselves.
* * * *
I had expected to find a well-beaten track, perhaps a macadamised road
from Pine Creek to Palmerston. But--a road where there was already a
railway! What for?
On to Union Town. There is a store here, kept by a welcoming European.
So far 10 miles of good, although hilly road.
At the store I was advised to look out for tracks leading off to the
Chinamen's mines, of which there were several, away back in the hills
from the railway. This advice I conscientiously acted on--"looked out"
and followed one for miles until I came to the mine and the Chinaman.
But in among the hills there was only "no savee," and a noisy quartz
crushing plant; so I retraced my wandering wheelmarks, kept close to the
railway line, and arrived at Burrundie (124 miles from Palmerston)
sometime in the afternoon.
Burrundie is the last--or first, whichever you please--of the overland
telegraph stations. Here there was hospitable entertainment at the hands
of the station master; then on to the Howley Cottages, 100 miles from
Palmerston. As the unpremeditated visit into the regions of Chinese
no-saveedom had interfered with the day's progress, at the Howley
Cottages I was made comfortable for the night.
My voucher book was now again constantly in use. I had tried hard when
in at the Chinamen's mine to possess myself of a celestial's signature,
as a curio, but had not succeeded. Was it possible that the book-fiend
had been there too?
Next day, from the Howley, I made fairly good time, passed the Adelaide
River (the half-way refreshment-house on the railway, 77 miles from
Palmerston), and Rum Jungle (58 miles from Palmerston) and got in as
far as the 46 mile cottages, where on the warm invitation of the
resident ganger, I camped until morning.
* * * *
From about Burrundie the cyclist is given the choice of occasional
lengths of old pads (white clay soil mostly), alongside the railway
line, and of the ballast or embankments, between or close by the rails.
I chose a little of each.
Hilly country extends from Pine Creek to about the Adelaide River. The
various rivers are thickly lined with screw palms and thickets of stout
bamboos, and the country generally is substantially timbered.
The only white resident at Rum Jungle (a railway camp, on a small
watercourse, tributary to the Finniss, where the jungle is remarkably
dense; the prefix may be reminiscent of railway-construction days), said
there was plenty of time yet to find alligators in the Darwin River,
between the jungle and Palmerston, although the water was getting low.
But why should I go hunting for them when I bore away hence as trophies,
still preserved, two alligator teeth?
And, speaking of alligators, it has recently been printed--"there are no
snakes in the Northern Territory." There are, in their proper season.
You may see them even without drinking heavily. I cycled over two and
left them behind, on a narrow pad by the eastern side of the railway
line, within a few hours of leaving the Howley cottages.
The size of one was larger than I would care to say. It remained quite
motionless after the bicycle had passed over it; so I dismounted and
threw a stick to ascertain whether the docile-seeming reptile was alive.
It was. First rising aloft its head swiftly to bite at the passing piece
of timber, it then immediately turned and commenced wriggling towards
myself. I never mounted a bicycle more quickly in my life, nor did a
quarter mile in faster time.
The ganger at the 46 mile cottages and the guard of the passenger train
running between Palmerston and Pine Creek, as well as the writer, have
cause to know that in the matter of snakes, as of some few other things,
the Northern Territory isn't Ireland.
From the 46th mile I kept entirely to the railway line (a blackfellow at
one of the cottages dubbed the bicycle "kangaroo engine") and before
midday I was within ten miles of Palmerston.
There was a fairly-good road, its surface covered with fine brown
ironstone rubble, for the remainder of the distance. Very high trees and
a profuse wealth of tropical vegetation lined the track; but "cyclone"
was writ large and in unmistakable characters everywhere--in uprooted
trees and other features.
At two and a half-miles from Palmerston are the railway workshops and
several suburban dwelling houses.
* * * *
On arriving opposite the first of these buildings I dismounted to take
off my hat and wipe a little of the dampness from my forehead; and a
sentence picked up somewhere came back to mind. I looked fondly upon the
bicycle which had served me so well, pressed gently one of its handles,
and whispered:--
"Thanks, Diamond, '_Es ist vollbracht._'"
With a sigh of relief the pen is laid down and the scissors are picked
up. The few next following paragraphs are from _The Northern Territory
Times_:--
"Mr. Murif, the gentleman who undertook to ride across the continent on
a bicycle, arrived in Palmerston on Friday afternoon, accompanied by
several of the local cyclists, who picked him up at the 2½ mile. After
riding round the town the party proceeded to the point below Fort Hill,
where the overlander's bicycle was dipped in the sea, and the point
christened 'Bicycle Point' in commemoration of the event.
"On Saturday evening Mr. Murif was entertained by the Athletic Club at a
smoke social in the Town Hall. The Government Resident presided over a
large gathering. Murif was heartily welcomed.
"_He declared that he could have accomplished the trip in less time, but
if good time was made nobody would follow him._ He would like another
man to try the journey.
"He was sorry, he said that he could not say as much as he would like in
thanking the residents of the Territory for the kindness they had shown
him since his arrival amongst them. He had also to thank the Athletic
Association, who were treating him in a right royal manner, and also
those gentlemen who had so kindly come out to meet him on Friday
afternoon. In fact, ever since he had started upon his trip, that one
word 'Thanks!' had ever been upon his tongue. He had had to say thanks
for kindnesses received at the very commencement of his journey; all
along the route he had had occasion to use the word, and now when his
task was completed and all his troubles over, all that he could say, in
return for the hearty welcome they had tendered him, was that one little
word--thanks. Down south he had always heard much of the hospitality of
Port Darwinites, but he had not the remotest idea of its munificence
until he came among them."
* * * *
Again:--"When seen by _The Advertiser_ correspondent on Saturday morning
Murif was busy cleaning his machine after the sea bath. On being
congratulated on his safe arrival he replied, 'Yes, both of us,'
pointing to the bicycle, 'are safe and strong as ever.' The cycle,
indeed, looked in perfect condition, the wheels running as true as when
they left the workshop. Murif was well and in the pink of condition."
And among other things, in reply to an interviewer:--"I wish you would
do me a favor. I want to thank all those whom I met on the road for the
most hospitable manner in which they treated me. Never have I met a
better class of men. I was treated like a prince whilst _en route_, and
never once was I refused anything I asked. Information re the track
ahead was readily tendered, and it was with regret that I had to leave
my new friends who had been so kind to me. I had heard that the
Territorians were the essence of hospitality, and now I fully believe
it."
* * * *
These Palmerstonians, who treated me so handsomely, are a
laughter-loving and generously hospitable people.
The European residents, being very largely civil servants are as such
prohibited from entering the field of politics. This disability hangs
heavily on them, and is ruinously enervating and mischievous in its
effects. Peacefully, contentedly, unprogressively as the calm and happy
dead are they. Earnest consideration and study of the wants and welfare
of the land in which they live are neglected and the action to which
such grave study ever prompts men is wanting. Their lives are rounds of
light gaieties and small pleasures. A picnic, dance, a sports day or a
concert is ever an absorbing topic.
These are not right lives for white men, such as they are, to live; but
the embargo forces them to live it. Nothing so retards a country's
progress, nothing perhaps is so great a hindrance to the development of
its resources, as a non-political feeling among the inhabitants. Here
politics are taboo. The real business of life, the stirring cry of
"Advance Australia!" is awfully lacking.
Remove the disability, take away the restraint, make an exception in
favour of those civil servants who live so far up north in South
Australia, unmuzzle those who have it in them to speak, and the people
of the Territory--the Territory itself--will soon be heard of. So long
as they are not heard from, so long must the Territory continue as a
heavy weight.
* * * *
Chinese, who are ready and willing to work night or day and seven days a
week, have ousted Europeans from many branches of trade. Hairdressing,
tailoring and bootmaking are all done by them or Japanese.
Paper kite flying seems to be those people's most favoured form of
recreation. Of a breezy evening the main street of Chinatown, running
parallel with and distant but a couple of hundred yards from
Palmerston's principal street, is indicated by half a dozen or more
kites rising up into or stationary in mid-air. The ends of the retaining
strings are either fastened to shop verandah posts or proudly held by
their yellow owners.
These kites, built on scientific principles, are made very large and of
fantastic shapes. Hollow "musical" reeds are attached; and when kite
flying is "on" the loud monotonous humming of these wind instruments
pervades every nook and cranny in Palmerston.
Every visitor gets a crick in his neck from looking skywards.
* * * *
Many blacks hang about the town. The roads are unmetalled. The loose
soil is dark brown, and consists of sand mixed with particles of friable
ironstone. The three varieties of tracks which show prominently
everywhere are suggestive--a few of booted whites, many of sandalled
Chinamen, and over and under all those of unshod natives.
* * * *
The thermometer does not register very high. But here there is a stuffy,
suffocating, sweat-producing latent heat the whole year round, with very
few weeks' cool to brace the enervated up.
One misses the heavenly blue of southern climes. The sky has ever in it
a hazy dull metallic grey.
The town is on a table-land, and is well laid out. The drainage is good;
hence malarial fever, once pretty prevalent, is now less common.
* * * *
The chefs are invariably Chinamen; this applies to most of the Northern
Territory. Hence one hears the word "chow, chow" used commonly by the
whites to denote meals or meal time--"Chow's ready," "come to chow,"
"There goes the Chow bell," and such like expressions.
A nobbler is disposed of with one indefinite "Chin, chin." Freely
translated it means something between a _votre sante_ and "another
coffin nail."
And, over and above all, is a splendid, almost prodigal hospitality.
* * * *
One last look back over the journey and the track.
However it may have been with myself (whether I met with the adventures
I had been hopefully looking forward to and whether the exciting
episodes or interesting incidents and objects came up to expectations or
not) of this I still feel assured: For two or three good humoured
cyclists, with whom considerations of time would be of but secondary
importance who would start in the proper season (that is March or
April), and who would need not to be niggardly in their expenditure, no
more promising fields can there be in all the world for a cycle-trip, at
once interesting and sufficiently adventurous, than along this same
route--in the crossing of Australia from South to North.
Although anyone undertaking to do the journey in fast time will be
called upon to endure privations and run grave risks of coming to grief,
yet a person who had been once overland, or one of the telegraph station
employees--a cyclist in short, who beforehand knew how the tracks ran
and where exactly the watering places lay--should find the task neither
very difficult nor demanding a great expenditure of days.
Now that the country and what to expect has become a little better
known; now that it has been seen and spoken of from a cyclist's view,
now that the wheelman may therefore prepare himself, it remains open for
any down-town or up-country sprinter, with the three good things of
which I have made previous mention, viz., good health, good luck and a
good bicycle, to double up the writer's so called "feat" into very small
compass indeed, and incontinently knock it out of sight into the
obscuring depths of an oblivious cocked hat.
It was one of my objects to leave it so open. Nevertheless I will not
take upon myself the responsibility of advising anyone to bother about
having a try at the "record-smashing" business unless it be well worth
his while to do so.
To be prepared counts for very much. The cyclist who is sure of his road
can never imagine the weakening effect which uncertainties on that most
vital point can produce. Such doubts evolve sickening, depressing,
unhappy sensations which make themselves felt more acutely than do the
mere bodily disablements associated with hunger and thirst.
I knew next to nothing of the country, and made it a point to make but
very few enquiries about it before I travelled up to have a look. I knew
nobody in it, and from the day of my leaving Adelaide to the day I
arrived at Sydney, I met no one with whom I had been in any way
previously acquainted.
* * * *
I have in no case named those with whom I had the pleasure of becoming
acquainted on the track for the reason that had those names been written
it would as frequently have devolved upon the writer to expatiate on
matters by right concerning only the men themselves, and besides I but
seldom indeed questioned anyone about his business.
I have no material, therefore, out of which to "work up" on the weakness
of slight acquaintanceships, the usual traveller's series of
semi-biographical impertinences, even were I so minded.
But the following-named gentlemen are well-known, and I feel especially
grateful to them for they all in one way or another befriended me:--Mr.
Mat Connor, Mr. Harry Gipp, Mr. James Cummins, the Messrs. Louis
Brothers, Mr. Coulthead, Mr. Gunter, Mr. Heilbraun, Mr. Wallis, Mr.
Campbell, and police officers Bennett and Kingston.
From what I have already written it will go without further emphasizing
that to the ever-courteous and obliging assistants and officers in
charge at the various inland telegraph stations I have cause to be and
am grateful also.
* * * *
The only wheeled vehicles I knew, or now know of, as being in the
country, besides the bicycle, after leaving Alice Springs, were those
under cover at the Telegraph and Cattle Stations, and a buggy at the
sheep camp, between Tennant's and Powell's Creeks.
There are no camels north of Alice Springs, except when a caravan
travels from the latter place to Barrow's or Tennant's Creek with the
yearly supplies.
* * * *
Yet, in this land where the bicycle is but imperfectly known one may
pick up some bright knowledgeable notions in "improved bike" building.
An "additional strengthener" suggestion came from a man who had been
inspecting my mount as it stood against a wall with the interlocking
gear closed, and thus of course kept perfectly straight. He said to
me--"See how strong the back part of the machine is compared with the
front," and his "notion," soon forthcoming, was that it would be an
improvement if two more tubes were added: These to run, one at each
side, from barrel bracket forward to the front fork extremities, back
stay style.
As I had no desire to make enemies I admitted the
front-fork-to-crank-shaft-bracket stay would undoubtedly be, as the
inventive person remarked, "a strengthener." "But," said I hesitatingly,
"As the most agile brains in all the world have been at work for the
last ten years or so intent upon thinking out improvements in bicycle
construction, I fear there must be some and (although to us perhaps
unapparent) objection to the innovation."
At another place I had casually remarked upon the fact of the bicycle's
handlebars having turned in the steering socket when I fell somewhere
(thus, by the way, saving other, more vital parts, the sharp shock.)
That this movement should have occurred appeared to a listener, as it
will to many people, to indicate a grave fault, if not danger. "Why," he
exclaimed suddenly, but after much cogitation, "to provide against that
happening would be the simplest thing in the world"--by drilling a hole
through the front tube where the maker's name and trade mark were (in my
case, where they were not, because I had scratched both off) and then
driving a strong pin in! I told him I didn't want the fault rectified.
It surprised me to find how extraordinarily anxious people were about
punctures. It was "What would you do if you got a puncture?" until I
came to hate the word. Very few had much thought of the consequences of
a broken crank, fork, tube, shaft, or rim. But I believe nearly every
one who hasn't a bicycle lives in constant terror of that dreadful bogy
puncture.
I was made re-acquainted with descriptions of many of those wonderful
leverage-chains, improved brakes, and puncture-proofing devices which
work so emphatically well in print. One invention very much in favor was
an inner-tubular arrangement--"quite a simple thing--made up of a
hundred or so sections or distinct chambers, like an endless string of
stumpy sausages." It was so obvious that when one sausage had lost all
of its stuffing and collapsed, the other ninety-nine would yet remain
for the utilisation of the wheelman!
Of such were the humors of the trip.
If the blacks I met with were not quite so wild-mannered as I could have
feared or hoped for, it was through no fault of mine. Neither was it for
me to rouse them up with a stick, or go hunting for some others less
mild-mannered.
As I have said, if I heard of a white traveller anywhere, I did not try
to dodge him. If one will but consider how I spent time and money in
searching for a companion before starting (it was only because I was
forced to, that I started alone), one may perhaps find excuse for me
when I confess to feeling rather glad whenever I met or heard of there
being a white man on the track.
* * * *
And why was the journey made? As was said long ago, I wanted to do
_something_ before I was put out of sight and mind. Had I merely wanted
to dig out a few sovereigns for the pockets of cycle or cycle-part
makers I should have adopted other methods. But I sincerely desired to
do something for Australia, and it seemed to me that this would be the
most effective means in my power of making the inlands better known, and
of arousing some interest in our heritage in the north. Two or three
knew of the desire; and no sooner was the task accomplished than on a
day in June I wrote this letter to one of them:--
"SIR,--Now that the matter has passed very nearly out of my hands and
risen beyond me, I wish to formally assure you ("formally," for hitherto
I have spoken the words, as it may have appeared, but lightly) that
everything I have done in connection with my recent bicycle trip has
been mainly with a view to advertising the Northern Territory--a country
which it is my hope to see, in the near future, looked upon and referred
to no longer as a costly, cumbrous and unremunerative "White Elephant,"
but rather as a strong and healthy, though over-sleepy youth, whom, on
awakening, something had aroused to manhood.
"I have allowed to slip by opportunities of making fair money (of which,
sir, I thoroughly appreciate the value) which I might have earned by
accomplishing the journey in hard-to-be-improved on time; but I
preferred this rather than do aught to defeat the end I primarily had in
view.
"A declaration in public to that effect in the past would, perhaps, have
savored of boastfulness or presumption; it may, indeed, perhaps so savor
now. So certainly also, a few months ago, would any announcement of my
intention to cycle alone across the continent. Hence my silence, lest my
own ambitious purpose should be frustrated. That purpose is now being
well worked out.
"It will make the Territory known: that, sir, you know, was the ground
upon which I sought from you and the Hon. the ---- the favor of those
highly-prized signatures in my voucher book, which you both granted me.
And that, as it was the ground on which I approached you, was the main
prompting to do the thing I have done.
"I thank you once more for having obliged me, and remain, sir, your most
obedient servant,
"JEROME J. MURIF."
ADVERTISEMENT
It was an "ELECTRA" No. 6 (price £22 10s.) which carried Mr. Jerome J.
Murif successfully and without ANY SINGLE MISHAP OF ANY KIND through his
memorable trip from ADELAIDE TO PORT DARWIN. On arrival of Mr. Murif at
Port Darwin this bicycle was examined, and we append below the reports
furnished to Mr. Murif:
To Mr. MURIF. Port Darwin, 30th May, 1897.
Sir--The general condition of your "Electra" from a mechanical
point of view is of such a nature that, as a practical man, I would
not credit the statement that it had been used for the purpose of
crossing the Australian Continent had it not been for the authentic
records which you carry with you. It is undoubtedly a HIGH-CLASS
MACHINE.
THOS. N. MESSENGER,
Foreman Locomotive Works, Port Darwin.
CONDITION OF MR. J. MURIF'S BICYCLE, ELECTRA, No. 58,160.
Port Darwin, N.T., 25th May, 1897.
WHEELS.--Steering and Driving, both 28 in. "Dia." In true track and
line. Running central between forks (front and back) freely, and
without movement to either side when revolving. Coming to the full
stop only after many lessening pendulum-like vibrations.
RIMS.--Undinged, and if re-enamelled, would appear as new.
SPOKES.--Everyone taut, bright, and alike, NOT A BEND OR SIGN OF
STRAIN IN ANY.
CRANKS.--At right angles to shaft in main bracket. No signs of ever
being bent, injured, tampered with, or disconnected since coming
from the shop.
SHAFTS.--UNBENT, as indicated by TRUE running of wheels.
FRONT FORKS.--Undinged as new.
BACK FORKS & STAYS.--Same as front forks.
FRAME.--RIGID. NOT A HAIR BREADTH OUT. Top, Bottom, Diagonal, and
Steering Socket Tubes being all in true lines.
CHAIN & GEAR WHEELS.--Show LITTLE or NO SIGNS OF WEAR. All gearing
RUNNING WITHOUT JAR, and every bearing working as SMOOTHLY as could
be desired by the most fastidious critic.
WEIGHT OF MACHINE.--Without mudguards, brake, or tools, 28 lbs.
GEAR.--20 teeth on sprocket, 9 cogs at hub.