_THE EAST COAST._
_Friday, August 5th._--At 1.30 A.M. we anchored off Johnstone Point,
and at 8 o'clock we hove anchor and proceeded to the mouth of the
Fitzroy River. The pilot left us at 10.30, and we proceeded out to sea
under sail. There was a strong wind from the south-east, and I was
glad to stay in bed all day. We passed through the Cumberland Isles,
and Tom had a rather anxious night, as the navigation was very
intricate.
_Saturday, August 6th._--The morning broke clear and fine, the fresh
breeze still continuing. The scenery during the day was lovely, and I
was carried into the deck-house in order that I might enjoy it. The
views were more like the Inland Sea of Japan than the tropical
scenery, made up of cocoa-nut palms, tree-ferns, and coral islands,
which I had been looking for. The mountain shapes were very beautiful,
as were also the bays and inlets, and the varied colours of the land,
sea, and sky gave brilliancy and effect to the landscape. The east
coast of Australia at this season of the year is a perfect
cruising-ground for yachtsmen. The Great Barrier reef, extending for a
distance of 1,000 miles from Swain Reefs to Cape Yorke, protects the
coast from the heavy swell of the Pacific. The steady breezes from the
south-east are favourable for sailing, especially in the direction in
which we are steering.
At 4 P.M. we were off Pine Island, a small islet of the Percy group,
on which a light has been established. From Pine Island onwards to the
Whitsunday Passage the navigation recalls the experiences of many
pleasant summers on the west coast of Scotland. The inner route, which
we followed, passes between numberless rocks and islands. The Percy
Isles form a distinct group, extending twenty miles from north to
south, and eight miles from east to west. To the westward of the Percy
Isles a still larger group has received the collective name of
Northumberland, the several islands being distinguished by familiar
Northumbrian names. Advancing northwards, at a distance of some sixty
miles from the Percy group, the Cumberland, Sir James Smith, and
Whitsunday groups form a continuous archipelago on the eastern side of
the passage. The highest peaks attain an elevation little short of
1,000 feet. The islands are for the most part richly wooded. Some
peaks are clothed with timbers to the summit, others are smooth and
grassy, a few are bare of vegetation. The rocks are magnificent.
Paternoster rises sheer from the water to a height of more than 900
feet.
'Turning from the sea to the mainland, the coast-range at a short
distance inland forms a continuous barrier, varying in height from
3,000 to upwards of 4,000 feet. At Whitsunday Passage, through which
we passed on the afternoon of August 6th, the line of coast is broken
by Cape Conway, which, at its south-eastern extremity, rises to a
height of 1,637 feet. A chain of peaks extends northwards from Cape
Conway to Mount Drysander, and forms a fine amphitheatre of hills on
the western side of the Whitsunday Passage. On the eastern side is a
group of islands, of which Whitsunday, the largest, is eleven miles
long, while Whitsunday Passage is twenty miles in length. At its
narrowest part it is contracted to a breadth of two miles. On the
mainland side the passage opens out into the fine natural harbour of
Porte Molle. On the eastern side the line of shore is broken by the
bays of Whitsunday Island, and the channels which divide it from the
smaller islands, by which it is completely surrounded.'
Cape Gloucester was reached in about three hours after we had issued
from the Whitsunday Passage. Rounding the cape, we anchored for the
night close under the land.
_Sunday, August 7th._--The morning dawned clear and bright, and we
sent off two men in the dinghy to land on Gloucester Island. They took
the dogs for a run ashore, and I asked them to collect what they could
in the way of shells or greenery. They did not bring back much of
either, but reported that the island was very pretty and had a nice
sandy shore, with forests running down almost to the water's edge, and
quantities of parrots and parrakeets. We had church at half-past ten,
and directly after service went across to Bowen, anchoring a short
distance from H.M.S. 'Paluma.' Bowen is a small town, but the harbour
is spacious. The sea was rather rough, and we found some difficulty in
communicating with the shore; but after lunch all the party landed in
the large cutter. I was sorry to hear that Bowen is rapidly dwindling
and losing its trade; the inhabitants hope, however, to recover some
of their former vitality when once the network of railways is extended
to their little town. Later on the officers of the 'Paluma' came on
board, and seemed pleased to meet people lately from Europe; for they
have been on this station several years, surveying the Barrier Reef.
Our own shore party returned late, having much enjoyed their
expedition and the long walk. They had picked up a good many
curiosities, including one of the largest and finest hawksbill-turtle
shells I had ever beheld. It had been most carefully polished by a
lighthouse-keeper on one of the reefs, who had caught the creature
himself. A great many telegrams were received this evening, all
referring to the various kind arrangements proposed for us at
Townsville and elsewhere.
_Monday, August 8th._--Weighed anchor at daybreak, and were pushed
merrily forward by strong S.E. breezes. We sailed swiftly up the coast
as far as Townsville--a pretty-looking town of foreign appearance,
with its wharves and business-houses close down on the beach, whilst
the villas and private residences stand on the little nooks and
corners of a hill at the back. The officers of H.M.S. 'Myrmidon,'
which was lying in harbour, soon came on board to see us. They had
broken their rudder-head outside the Barrier Reef, where they too were
hard at work surveying, and had come into Townsville for repairs. The
anchorage proved rolly, there being no protection whatever, and I had
rather an uncomfortable night.
_Tuesday, August 9th._--At daybreak Tom moved the yacht out to the
shelter of Magnetic Island, where the coal-hulks lie, some six miles
off Townsville. There we kept boxing about all the morning, under the
mistaken idea that it was quite smooth. Meanwhile some supplies were
taken on board; but as I was not well enough to undertake the long
expeditions which had been planned, and the rest of the party declared
that it would not be possible to go without me, they were given up.
After landing and taking a walk through Townsville, the shore-going
people pronounced it to be quite as clean-looking and prosperous as
Bowen, but with more business going on. The town, which has a
population of 12,000, is built on a tongue of land between the sea and
Ross Creek. It consists of one main street containing banks, public
offices, counting-houses, and well-supplied stores and shops. The
bustle in the streets and the flourishing and prosperous appearance
everywhere were quite cheering. Townsville owes its prosperity to its
railway, which is already opened to a distance of two hundred miles
into the interior, and which has made it the port for a wide area of
pastoral country and for several promising gold-fields.
[Illustration: ABORIGINES IN CAMP]
[Illustration: Stowing Foretopsail]
The bay of Townsville is open, and the shoal water extends some two
miles from the beach. A breakwater is in course of construction, and
dredging operations are being prosecuted with energy, so that the
defects of the port will in course of time be remedied. We started
with the same strong trade-wind up the coast, passing through some
pretty picturesque islands and roads, hoping to anchor at Dungeness
for the night. Finding it impossible to get up there before dark, we
anchored in Challenger Bay, under shelter of Palm Island, shortly
after sunset. Soon after we had dropped anchor aboriginal blacks were
reported alongside, and on going on deck I saw two miserable-looking
objects in the frailest of boats. Indeed the craft looked like the
pictures of an ancient British coracle, and was so light and
unseaworthy that every wave washed into it. They had nothing for sale
except some commonplace and evil-smelling shells, which they were
anxious to exchange for tobacco and biscuits, evidently preferring
these commodities to money. We bought all the shells they had, and
they were so well satisfied with their bargain that they returned
later on with another bucketful of conchological curiosities, which
were also purchased. They looked most harmless individuals; but having
been warned by Captain Bridge never to trust the natives here, we
thought it better to set a double watch for the night, more as a
matter of precaution than from any fear of actual danger. Though they
may have the reputation of being friendly, and may be certified as
such in books of sailing directions and on the Admiralty charts, one
can never feel sure of their disposition. A trifling event may have
occurred since the last report was made which would alter the
disposition of the whole tribe towards Europeans. Some officers may
have landed to shoot, and walked over the crops of the natives without
apologising or offering them remuneration, not knowing that they had
done anything wrong. Drunken sailors may have landed, and so changed
the friendly attitude of the inhabitants to deadly enmity towards the
next arrivals. I honestly believe that a great many of the reported
outrages in the South Sea and other savage islands are due more to a
temporary misunderstanding between blacks and whites than to any
cold-blooded barbarity or love of bloodshed on the part of the
natives.
_Wednesday, August 10._--Some of the party went early ashore, and I
need scarcely say they were not molested in the slightest degree, and
only found a most harmless black camp of about twenty individuals,
with gins nursing their babies and men walking about. They brought off
a good collection of pectens, clams, helmets, conchs, pearl-oysters,
and large cowries, but the specimens were not very perfect. Also a
quantity of greenery in the shape of _Pancratiums_, _Logodium
scandens_, climbing _Lycopodium_, and a curious sort of fruit off a
palm, which grows in large cone-shaped clusters. They call it
breadfruit in these parts, and the natives eat it; but it certainly
does not look either inviting or eatable. One fruit weighed twelve,
and the other over eleven, pounds.
[Illustration: Queensland Natives]
Two more natives came alongside this morning. They had not the
slightest vestige of clothing; but two men, whom I saw over the side
later in the day, both sported hats, and one of them had on besides a
man-of-war shirt; the other wore a very short tunic cut low in the
neck and several rows of canary-coloured glass beads. We weighed at
eleven, and proceeded towards Dungeness under sail. I was carried up
into the deck-house to see the view, which was provokingly obscured by
mists and driving rain. We found some difficulty in making our way,
owing to the new buoys not having yet been entered on the Admiralty
chart. Fortunately, the officers of the 'Myrmidon' had warned Tom of
this fact, made more dangerous by the thick mist and fog. We
ultimately arrived at Dungeness in safety, taking everybody by
surprise, as no ship had ever been known to go through the southern
entrance of Hinchinbrook Channel before without a pilot. The pilot, a
nice old man, had been looking for us all day yesterday, as well as
all last night. As we did not appear, he must have gone home, thereby
losing the pleasure of conducting us into the harbour, but giving Tom
the gratification of bringing the vessel in through the channel
without taking a pilot.
_Thursday, August 11th._--When I awoke at eight Tab and Mr. des Graz
had already started on their shooting expedition, and at noon we also
set forth on an excursion up the Herbert River. Tom had caused a
comfortable bed to be rigged up for me in the gig, so that I was not
obliged to dress, but simply got out of one bed into another. The gig
was towed by the steam-launch, which also trailed the 'Flash' behind
in case we might want to land in any shallow place or get aground on a
sand or mud bank. After the first little fluster of moving was over it
was a great pleasure to me to be once more in the open air after being
shut up for what seems so long a time. It felt deliciously warm too,
the temperature being 74 deg.. The scenery was beautiful--sandy shores,
green woods with high precipitous mountains in the background,
covered with shiny slate-like shale, which when moist shows up like a
mirror through the mist. The view so reminded me of Scotland that I
felt inclined to take up my glasses to look for deer among the craggy
peaks and corries. We passed the little pilot station of Dungeness,
and almost directly afterwards the hamlet of the same name. It bears
some resemblance to its English namesake, for it is situated on a
sandy spit of land, surrounded by mangrove swamps instead of grass
marshes. I noticed, too, that the people have the fever-stricken look
which is sometimes seen about Lydd and that part of the country. There
are only fifty-six inhabitants, men, women, and children. Dull as the
surroundings seemed, it is wonderful how bright and cheerful the
people who came on board yesterday seemed to be. The river, though
wider, put us very much in mind of the Kuching, in Borneo--the same
tropical vegetation and miles of unhealthy-looking mangrove swamps. We
passed several tidy-looking little settlements on the banks, some
picturesquely built of wood thatched with sugar-cane or palm-leaf,
while others were constructed of corrugated iron, which must be
frightfully hot in summer. The white people, so far as we could judge,
as we passed up and down the river, were suffering from the climate.
The Kanakas and Chinamen seemed more prosperous; and the few
aboriginals looked quite happy in their natural surroundings.
[Illustration: Cardwell School House]
The servants, with their usual ingenuity, managed to both cook and
serve an excellent lunch, in the boat, with only the assistance of the
'Darby and Joan' stove. About half-past two we reached the wharf of
the Halifax sugar-plantation, where our arrival disturbed a large
party of aboriginals, women and children, who were enjoying their
afternoon bath, splashing, jumping like a shoal of fish. Our party
(including the dogs) landed, and on their return said that the crop of
sugar looked very healthy, and the rolling and crushing stock of the
cane was in excellent order. The whole district is well adapted for
the cultivation of sugar. No less than 9,600 tons were produced in
1886. The growth is steadily increasing, and the country will sooner
or later become the centre of a large and prosperous trade.
For the cultivation of sugar on the Herbert both British and coloured
labour is employed--British workmen in the mills, the coloured people
in cutting the cane. Wages for Englishmen range from twenty-five
shillings upwards weekly. We spoke to some of the wives of the
workmen, several of whom are recent arrivals from Lancashire. Their
dwellings are of the simplest description, made of corrugated iron or
of straw, and scattered at haphazard in a clearing in the jungle or
on the banks of the river. These pioneers of cultivation have to lead
a hard life and bear many privations--circumstances in which the
colonising qualities of the Anglo-Saxon race always come to the front.
There was an hotel and a store, and, as is usual in this sort of
place, enormous piles of broken bottles and empty cases of tinned
meats, jams, &c. It breaks my heart to see the colonists, particularly
the children, living on condensed milk, tinned meats, and canned
fruits from America, when there is so much good pasture running to
waste all round the house. In the orchards the trees are literally
broken down from the weight of their crop, while quantities of fruit
which the boughs cannot support are given to the pigs and cattle.
[Illustration: Dead Crocodile on Snag]
We had to wait a little before starting on our homeward water-way, for
the tubes of the 'Trap's' boiler began to leak, and had to be
repaired. This delay gave us an opportunity of observing some of the
inhabitants, who came to the pier to see us. They looked smart and
clean and well-to-do--quite different from those we had noticed as we
ascended the river. We stopped to take one or two photographs of
tropical scenery and of various little stations on the way down the
river. We also paused to look at the body of a dead alligator which
had been caught in a snag. He was between five and seven feet long,
and a second rather larger one lay close by. From time to time we
caught sight of parties of blacks hidden amongst the rank vegetation
of the shores, and we saw some beautiful birds, particularly a
brilliant blue kingfisher, flashing about like a jewel in the
sunlight. There was another pretty little red-beaked bird; and an
enormous black crane, about four feet high, with white tips to his
wings, and a red and blue topknot, stalked about among the
lotus-lilies. One part of the river banks was covered by a dense
growth of pancratium lilies, scenting the whole air; while elsewhere a
tangled curtain of pink and violet ipomoea hung down from tall
trees. I may mention that the currents in the river are very strong,
and that we had several tropical showers in the course of the day.
Although I enjoyed my outing, I was thankful to get on board again and
lie down on my bed. Mr. and Mrs. Wardlaw came off later on, and
brought me some orchids and a telegram from Mr. Pennefather pressing
us to stay till to-morrow, so as to allow the gentlemen to have the
good day's shooting he had arranged for them; but want of time
rendered this pleasant plan impossible. The maids, stewards, and some
of the crew had gone on shore on Hinchinbrook Island, and brought back
a quantity of ferns, orchids, lilies, and shells, and an amusing
report of the blacks' camp which they had seen there. The children
were so delighted with the description the maids gave them of the
wonders on shore that they promptly took off their father and two
other gentlemen in the steam-launch to search for curiosities, hoping
to be fortunate enough to find some shells as beautiful and uncommon
as those the servants had brought back with them.
_Friday, August 12th._--An hour after midnight the sportsmen returned,
and Mr. Pennefather came to breakfast. He was much disappointed that
the party could not stay for another day's shooting, and talked of the
variety of game to be had--geese, ducks, widgeon, teal, coot, plover,
quail, swans, turkeys, and bitterns, to say nothing of cockatoos,
parrots, wallabys, kangaroos, and alligators. Yesterday the
engine-driver, being a sportsman himself, kindly stopped the train and
allowed them to have a shot, or rather several. They succeeded in
killing one poor lady wallaby with a dear little baby in her pouch,
which did not seem very young, and would therefore have been easy to
rear; but, unfortunately, they did not take possession of it and bring
it on board for a pet, to add to the little flock already brought up
by hand. Wallabys are quite easy to tame when caught as young as this
little creature, and are very gentle and affectionate. Arrived at the
factory, the shooting-party had lunch with Mr. Pennefather, and then
went out with their guns, but only succeeded in bagging a bandicoot,
two ducks, a widgeon, a plover, and a few other birds, making
altogether a somewhat nondescript bag.
Precisely at 9.30 we started under steam through the Rockingham
Channel, which separates Hinchinbrook, an island of magnificent
mountains, from the mainland. We are now well in the doldrums of the
Tropic of Capricorn, and the delicious fair strong trade-breezes we
have hitherto enjoyed have now deserted us, or rather we have sailed
through them. I do not think I ever saw anything finer than this
Rockingham Channel. The mountains on the mainland are high, and of
beautiful shapes, with points and rounded outlines, covered with
green foliage, whilst on the inner shore of the island of Hinchinbrook
there is a dense mass of tropical foliage clothing the hills up to
their highest tops. Where the scrub has been burnt, little patches of
ferns of a fresh light green colour have sprung up, and the leafy mass
is broken here and there by a perpendicular rock or a white lace-like
cascade. Every bay and little inlet has its own peculiar charm, and
occasionally a sharp spit of rock is thrust out into the sea. The
water to-day is as placid as it can possibly be, and reflects on its
surface as in a mirror all the beauties of the scenery. About twelve
o'clock we reached Cardwell, a collection of little tin houses,
looking from the ship as if they stood amid widely separated fields
and orchards. All the party but the Doctor and myself went on shore to
see the place. The people were all very kind, and our party were
entertained at the house of Mr. Walsh, the principal Government
official; and afterwards the chairman of the Local Board, on behalf of
the inhabitants, read and presented a neatly worded address to Tom,
who made a suitable reply. The party then returned on board, laden
with orchids, cocoa-nuts, and everything the township produces. The
few settlers were most hospitable, and expressed great pleasure at
seeing us. Whilst Tom and the others were taking their ramble at
Cardwell, Mr. Walsh came off to pay me a little visit; but directly
the shore party returned on board, at 2.30, we resumed our voyage
under steam towards Mourillyan. The channel was still lovely, with
islands on one side and the high mountains of the mainland on the
other. I do not know when we have had such a charming sail, and there
was a certain appropriateness in the surroundings on this 12th of
August. The general contour of the hills, the purple colouring of the
mountains, the Norfolk pines and other trees on some distant heights
(when you were not near enough to see how tropical was the foliage)
reminded me vividly of Scotland. What a pleasure lovely scenery is!
and what a delight to be able to travel and see it! I do not think I
have ever forgotten or shall forget a single really beautiful view I
have ever seen and admired. Those scenes are all clear and distinct,
put away in little pigeon-holes of memory. If my brain were only a
photographic camera, I could print them off as clearly on paper to-day
as in the long bygone years when I first saw them. All the incidents
and circumstances are still fresh in my recollection.
For the last few days the scenery has been an especial pleasure to me,
laid up as I am in the deck-house, where a comfortable bed has been
arranged for me, so high that I can look out of the window and have my
eyes delighted and my nerves soothed. I am very thankful that I can
thus enjoy the lovely coast, though I should much prefer being able to
take a more active part in the sight-seeing, orchid- and
shell-collecting, and general scrambling which ensues every day when
the rest of the party go for their pleasant walks on shore along sandy
beaches shaded by graceful palms, with tree ferns growing almost to
the water's edge. It is fortunate, perhaps, that this constant
malarial fever has made me feel too weak to care much about anything,
so that I am not tempted to long to do imprudent things. I was indeed
sorry when the shades of evening began to fall and prevented my seeing
anything beyond the mere outlines of the coast.
The distance to Mourillyan is only forty miles, and the entrance to
the harbour is extremely fine, though it was so dark that we could
hardly distinguish anything. Soon after we entered the harbour and
dropped anchor, Mr. Levinge, the manager of three large sugar-estates
in the neighbourhood, came on board, full of plans of pleasure for the
morrow. Unfortunately the programme which had been arranged was rather
more than I could undertake. I may be able to manage the eight miles
in a steam-tram through the jungle, to see the sugar-plantation,
crushing-mills, and lunch with the manager and hospitable proprietor
of the plantation; but I fear I shall not have strength or time to go
on to the Gundy Plantation, some miles off, up a branch of the
Johnstone River, and see the scenery there, which is said to be very
fine. The original idea was to go on in boats to Geraldton, close to
the mouth of the Johnstone River, where the yacht or a steam-launch
was to meet us and take us back to Mourillyan Harbour, about eight
miles off. We left it till the morning to decide what we should do,
and went to bed in good time so as to be ready for an early start if I
felt strong enough to attempt it.
[Illustration: The Train in the Bush]
_Saturday, August 13._--Woke just at daybreak. When I looked through
the porthole I found that this harbour of Mourillyan where we were
lying was one of the most picturesque I had ever seen. It is entirely
land-locked, except for the narrow passage through which we entered
last night. Both vegetation and landscape looked thoroughly tropical,
and two or three bungalows were perched amid the dense foliage on the
steep banks of the rising hillsides.
[Illustration: Zamoa Tree]
We were ready before our kind hosts, and it was quite eleven o'clock
before we landed and established ourselves in the steam-tram, ready
for a journey to the Mourillyan sugar-plantation. My long deck-chair
having been placed most comfortably in a sugar-truck, my journey was
luxuriously and easily performed, though, after the perfectly quiet,
smooth movement of the last few days, I rather felt the occasional
jolts and jars. I have travelled through tropical jungles in all parts
of the world, and though the scenery to-day was wanting in the
grandeur of the virgin forests of Brazil, and of the tangled masses of
vegetation of Borneo and the Straits Settlements, it had much special
beauty of its own. The variety of foliage was a striking contrast to
the monotonous verdure often seen in Australia. Some of the palms and
ferns were extremely beautiful, and so well grown that each might have
been a specimen plant in a greenhouse. What I call the umbrella palm,
but what they call here the cabbage palm--a sort of _Zamia
alsophila_--grew abundantly in groups. Wherever there was a clearing
we could see high trees, some with their bare white stems rising to
nearly a hundred feet before they branched out, while others were
completely covered, and almost killed, by masses of creepers whose
leaves, of every kind and shape--some large and broad like the
_Aristolochias_; others quite finely cut like _Logodiums_; others
sharp, pointed, and shiny; others again palmated--and of every shade
of green, gave a fine effect to the different peeps and vistas as we
glided along. Presently the clearings became more numerous, and we
passed a deserted village, surrounded by gardens, where some Chinese
had settled a few years ago and tried to make a living by supplying
ships with vegetables. They did not find the venture successful, and
have left the district. We passed several small tramways running at
right angles into the bush, with little huts adjoining, built of
rushes and thatched with sugar-cane. In these the men lived when sent
down to cut timber for the fences, furnaces, and sleepers for the
tramway, as it was pushed further and further up through the jungle.
'Sugar is a very expensive crop to start, for the work of clearing the
jungle is most laborious, and therefore costly. The expense of
cutting down timber for the first rough cropping is 10_l._ per acre.
The complete clearing and grubbing of roots for the purposes of
ploughing and permanent cultivation is not less than 20_l._ an acre.
The cost of clearing alone is thus 30_l._ an acre. The machinery of
the mills, of Scotch manufacture, cost more than 60,000_l._ Some 900
acres have been brought under cultivation. The total capital already
expended may be taken at 200,000_l._ The yield of sugar is from three
to five tons per acre. The price may be taken at 20_l._ per ton. The
production of sugar last year was 2,050 tons.'
'The successful results of labour imported from Java are a special
feature at Mourillyan. We heard an excellent character of the Javanese
workpeople. They are sturdy, and most docile. They are imported for a
term of three years, under strict engagements with the Dutch
Government. An advance of two to three pounds is given to each workman
before he leaves home. His fare costs 6_l._ to Queensland. His wages
are 30_s._ a month and found. The secret of success has been the
adoption of a system of supervision by Javanese sarongs. Javanese are
employed to drive locomotives, and for the management of the boilers
and most of the machinery in the mills.'
The proprietors of the plantation have 5,000 acres cleared already,
and will clear more as soon as they can raise sufficient capital. They
have already invested 250,000_l._ in the land, 20,000_l._ in the tram,
and 40,000_l._ in the mills, independent of the money they will
require for all sorts of contemplated improvements and additions. The
process of crushing is just the same as we saw in Trinidad. The carts
bring in the cane from the field, and it is passed through a series of
rollers to extract the juice, which is pumped up to a higher floor,
where it is received into vats, and then by different processes
converted into sugar of three kinds--white, medium white, and light
brown. The first-quality sugar is made white by being subjected to a
process of sulphur fumes, which produce beautiful glittering crystals.
It is said that this method of treating the sugar is not so
satisfactory as the old and rougher process. It seems to bleach the
crystallised particles without sufficiently removing the impurities.
The quality of the sugar is, however, excellent, and it commands a
high price in England.
From the mill I was carried through a clean and tidy-looking coolie
village to a comfortable house of the bungalow type, like those in
Mourillyan Harbour, inhabited by Mr. Nash, the proprietor of one of
the plantations, and Mr. Levinge, who had kindly arranged a luncheon
for us. Australian colonists are the most hospitable people in the
world. Their one idea seems to be to endeavour to do everything they
can for you, to give you the best of everything they possess. Nowhere,
in all our far-extending travels, have we received more true
hospitality. I had a comfortable sofa provided for me, whereon I lay
during lunch, and afterwards I rested in a chair in the verandah while
the others went to see more of the sugar plantation and mill.
About three o'clock we started back, and returned much quicker than we
came up, for which I was very thankful. Pleasant as the day had been I
was getting rather worn out. On our return to Mourillyan our
hospitable hosts accompanied us on board, and made an inspection of
the 'Sunbeam.' They could not stop long, as our Jersey pilot said we
had better be off before dark, the entrance to the harbour being very
narrow. It is, however, so well buoyed that when the new chart is
published there will be no difficulty in getting in or out at any time
of the day or night, with or without a pilot. In the night there are
two leading lights which show you the direct way in, the only danger
being at spring tides, when the tide sometimes runs eight or nine
knots an hour. The harbour looked lovely as we steamed away, and we
were quite sorry to leave the little haven of rest where we had spent
such a peaceful, comfortable day and night.
[Illustration: On the Johnstone River]
We were soon outside Mourillyan and past the picturesque mouth of the
Johnstone River. Judging from the photographs, the scenery of this
river must be very fine, for the sun-pictures represent several high
waterfalls pouring volumes of water over dark and perpendicular
basaltic rocks. One of the falls is said to be 300 feet high, and
there are several cascades with a fall of between 100 and 250 feet.
The light breeze from the S.E. carried us on famously. We soon saw the
Seymour Range; a little later we found ourselves off the mouth of the
Mulgrave River, and by midnight had passed through the narrow channel
which divides the Falkland Islands from the mainland at Cape Grafton.
We ladies retired early to bed, and even the children acknowledged to
being tired; but the gentlemen played whist on deck till a much later
hour. The nights are perfect now. The breeze is rather fresh by day
when not under the shelter of a protecting coast; but one must
remember that if the wind be fresh it is wafting us speedily on our
way, and we must not grumble, for we have turned the corner and are
now homeward-bound.
About three o'clock this morning we met a steamer going down the
coast, and, with the usual fatuity of steamships, she would not make
up her mind which way to go until she was close to us, and then ran
right across our bows. It is most extraordinary why steamships will
not get out of the way of sailing-ships at night. The matter is
entirely in their own hands, for the sailing-ship is comparatively
helpless. It is quite impossible for the officer on watch to tell at
what rate the approaching vessel is moving, and the steamer ought to
alter her helm the very instant a sailing-ship is perceived. Our pace
is rather rapid, particularly in light winds, and it is probable that
the steamer misjudged her distance from us. The more voyages I make
the more I feel that the melancholy little paragraphs one only too
often sees, headed 'Lost with all hands,' or 'Missing,' are nearly
always the result of accidents caused by a bad look-out and careless
steering. I often tell Tom it is his duty to report those cases which
come to his own knowledge. The instances have been numerous on this
voyage alone; but he is too kind-hearted to like to complain, which I
consider a mistaken view of humanitarianism.
_Sunday, August 14th._--I did not wake till late, and then found we
had just passed Cairns Harbour, which is said to be a wonderfully
rising place. The soil is good and suitable for sugar, and a railway
is being rapidly constructed which will open up the interior of this
part of Northern Queensland. The scenery is lovely, especially up the
Herberton River, where one of the most magnificent waterfalls in
Australia is to be seen.
[Illustration: Navigators]
We had service at eleven, but I was only able to listen to the hymns
from my cabin. At afternoon service at half-past four I heard every
word just as plainly from my bed on deck as I could have done had I
been below in the saloon. This has been one of the most perfect days
at sea I can remember, and I was carried up early on deck to admire
the beautiful coast, with the Macalister Range in the background. At
noon to-day we were in lat. 16 deg. 37' S., long. 145 deg. 47' E., stealing
quietly along under balloon canvas. At one o'clock we passed the
entrance to Port Douglas, another young and rising place. Early in the
afternoon we were abreast of the lighthouse on the Low Islands, which
returned our signals with creditable promptitude, and after sighting
Cape Kimberly we found ourselves abreast of the Daintree River, where,
I am told, there is some beautiful scenery. A little later Cape
Tribulation was passed, where Captain Cook ran his vessel ashore to
discover the amount of damage sustained after she had been aground on
a coral reef. They are now trying to recover her guns, which are so
overgrown by coral that it is likely to prove a difficult job. Divers
have been down and have absolutely seen the guns; but if they try to
dislodge them with dynamite the result may be the same as at
Springsure with the large opal--that they will be blown to pieces. It
is interesting to once more read Captain Cook's voyages on the scene
of some of his most important discoveries, and to think that many of
these peaks, bays, mountains, and inlets were named by him after some
more or less memorable incident. Cape Tribulation lies exactly under
the Peter Botte, a large and peculiarly shaped mountain. The whole
coast here is very like that of Cuba, especially the shape of its
mountains and the indentations of its coasts. The sunset was
magnificent, and made the mountains look quite volcanic as they rose
in the sky against the lurid light, producing red, yellow, and grey
tints such as one sees at Vesuvius, Etna, or Stromboli.
This afternoon, as we were looking over the side, Tom and I observed a
quantity of a brownish substance floating on the surface of the water.
We thought it might be either the outpouring of a neighbouring
volcano, or the spawn of some fish, sponge, coral, or algae. We drew up
several buckets of this discoloured water, and on closer inspection
found the floating matter to be a small sponge which exists in larger
pieces at a considerable depth below, but on reaching the surface
changes to a sort of powder, which reunites again and forms a filmy
track for a long distance.
[Illustration: Thursday Island]