Busselton—Napoleon’s Grave—Cattle Chosen—“All
aboard”—Karridale—Touring the Forest—King Karri—The Sand Patch.
Starting from Greenbushes railway station, I made my return journey as
far as Boyanup Junction, where I changed trains for Busselton, or, to
call it by its first name, “The Vasse.” This was one of the earliest
settlements of the colony, and is one of the most picturesque. It has
a beautiful bay, which, like Bunbury, was at one time a great whaling
place. There are about 30 fishermen there, and most of the fish caught
is sent every day by the Perth Ice Company to the metropolis. The bay is
nearly always calm, and English people say that it resembles Bournemouth
in old England. The lovely beach, with its hard white sand, is a
favourite place for cycling.
In the afternoon I sallied forth to inspect the beauties of this place
and was quite delighted with this ideal town. Everything is sweet and
clean; the grass and the trees seemed to me to have a more tender green
than in other places. The beautiful sky, with white fleecy clouds, was
reflected in the sparkling sea; dear little boats were dancing on the
water, and at the jetty, which is a mile long, two ships were moored,
while another had just spread its white wings to fly to fresh seas. It
was a perfect afternoon for fishing, which accounted for the number of
fishing-boats out.
The morning sun shining in all its glory awoke me early. I strolled down
to the pier, and met some boys coming along laden with fish that they had
just caught. I wanted to buy some, but the boys would not hear of that,
and presented me with two for my breakfast, which I took to the hotel to
be cooked, and no fish, I think, ever tasted sweeter.
Looking one way from the top of the lighthouse at the end of the jetty
one saw an exquisite carpet of green stretching for miles, white houses
nestling in shrubberies near the winding river, and sleek cows in the
pasture, nearly up to their knees in the waving grass; out at sea the
fishing-boats were dancing on the waves; a big steamer in the distance
was on its way to the East; a white-winged ship was just disappearing
from sight on the horizon; and all these, with flocks of birds soaring
across the sky, formed a picture pleasant enough to charm any eye.
There are some remarkably fine old houses about Busselton; Fairlawn, the
old Residency, for one. The immense China tree in front of the house was
a favourite spot with the late Colonel Molloy, when resident magistrate.
Under its shade he sat many a time transacting the business of the
Residency, and soldiers of the Queen have often passed beneath its shady
branches. Colonel Molloy was with Sir John Moore’s army, and also fought
under Wellington at Waterloo. A magnificent willow-tree, planted by the
Colonel in 1862, a few years before his death, from a slip growing over
Napoleon’s grave at St. Helena, is now 12 feet in circumference. I asked
for a slip as a memento, and it was graciously given to me. Fairlawn
now belongs to Mr. R. Gale, who has a nice dairy, with all the latest
improvements, stables and stockyards. As much as 380 lb. of butter,
from 60 cows, is made weekly by the Laval cream separator, worked by
horse-power. This part of the beautiful country is so noted for its fine
milch-cows that there would be great scope for a large butter factory,
since real nice country butter is seldom to be obtained in Perth at any
price; and I am sure housekeepers would hail the advent of fresh pats of
butter from the country with delight.
Mulberry-trees were loaded with their luscious fruit, and the bees
were hovering around and sipping the sweets from them. Honey is very
plentiful. In some orchards at Busselton there are as many as 130 hives,
yielding four tons of the sweet commodity.
Mr. J. Bussell’s estate has a singular name, “Cattle Chosen,” and it
was a strange chance that named it so. Mr. Bussell, the oldest settler
in these parts, had taken up land at Augusta, nearer the coast, but was
not entirely pleased with the place, and while driving some cattle to
the Swan Settlement lost one of his cows. On his return journey he saw
cattle-tracks, and following them up found not only the lost cow, but a
beautiful calf also, on the richest pasture he had seen. Considering the
circumstance as an omen of good luck, and delighted with the locality,
he applied to have his grant, 6000 acres, transferred to the Vasse, and
named the place “Cattle Chosen.” The town was afterwards called Busselton
out of respect to his name.
The homestead of Cattle Chosen is a pleasant place. Willows grow over the
pretty brooks and white bridges. An avenue of palm-trees leading to the
house, and an old cannon in the garden in front of it, add romance to the
scene. I was shown some marvellous ears of wheat grown by Mr. Tanner near
here, 12 inches long by 8 inches round; also cabbages 12 lb. in weight.
Tomatoes grow by the ton, and as to potatoes, 11 tons have been taken off
one patch of two acres. There is some swamp land near Busselton which it
is said would produce as many potatoes as the whole of Ireland.
In Mr. Pries’ orchard apples and pears load the trees so heavily—some of
the trees yielding 16 cases of fruit each—that the boughs actually break
beneath the weight. Wax models of some of the pears grown here are to
be seen at the office of the Agricultural Bureau, St. George’s Terrace,
Perth.
The children on the beach and in the flowery meadows seemed to revel in
their play, and their healthy faces and merry laughter proclaimed that
doctors were not required. No wonder they looked so well, with such a
beautiful place to live in! The summer temperature is never over 100°,
and the winters are mild. With the ample supply of milk, butter, eggs,
fruit, and other good things, the lives of these children are cast in a
pleasant place.
Mr. Locke, the member for the district, has a great racing-stable at
Lockville, and several horses are training for the coming races. I
admired the beautiful creatures very much. Several of them have already
won important races. Mr. Locke has also many dogs, which have taken
prizes at various shows; he is further well known as one of the best
judges of horseflesh in the colony, and the breeding of bloodstock is
carried on extensively on his estate.
The recreation-ground is a very level ground of 20 acres, and sport of
all kind is carried on there. Near the fine new bridge is the pretty
English church, covered with ivy, with the peaceful God’s Acre adjoining
it. St. Mary’s Catholic Church, served by that genial and benevolent
parish priest, Father Tracey, is near. Busselton, in addition to its
agricultural capabilities, offers a good opening for the timber business,
and one gentleman, Mr. Porritt, late of Queensland, who has settled
there, with the intention of developing this trade, has obtained a lease
of the Ballarat tramline, and purchased two sawmills, as well as taking
up 60,000 acres of forest land. Employment will thus be given to a great
many men, so emigrants will be welcome.
Tin has been found close to Busselton, at Quindalup, and as water is
plentiful close by, profit to the district is likely to arise from the
discovery.
The morning sun was shining in all its splendour over the fair River
Vasse when the driver of the four-in-hand mail-coach cried, “All aboard!”
I climbed to the box-seat, and with a crack of the driver’s whip off we
went. The day was beautiful; the air was exhilarating, and after the
50-mile journey to Karridale I felt inclined for a good dinner. Luckily
I had supplied myself with sandwiches and sherry, or should not have
fared too well. As the journey is nearly all through the bush, one must
not expect to find luxuries in the way of provisions. The scenery and
country we passed through satisfied my eye and soul, but after four hours
in the coach I began to feel that the cravings of the material inner
woman required satisfying also, and was very glad of the little basket
that had been prepared for me. The peppermint-trees growing by the road
are very pretty. These graceful trees grow in thickets, are very shady,
and give a pungent scent. We passed many homesteads on our way, and right
in the middle of the forest a large brick building loomed up. I thought
at first it was a church, but found it was the Newtown Agricultural
Hall. There are no people living about it now, but I suppose there will
be a settlement some day, and Newtown is evidently taking time by the
forelock. When I saw the first karri-tree I was surprised. Without doubt
it is the handsomest kind of tree in the colony. It over-tops all the
other trees, towering to the sky, with delicate feathery leaves, and the
huge trunk, as straight as a mast, is covered by white smooth bark. Some
of these trees are known to reach great heights—as much, indeed, as 400
feet. Captain Pemberton Walcott is stated to have measured one whose
circumference was 60 feet. I did not see any quite as large as that, but
they certainly looked gigantic.
On approaching Karridale we passed the racecourse and cricket-ground,
where several lads were at play. This spot is singularly picturesque,
and the district is one of the oldest in the colony. (Augusta, where
the trees grow to 400 feet high, is 11 miles from Karridale, and is the
site of one of the earliest settlements in 1826, but it has never been a
favourite place, and has been abandoned several times.) The magnificent
forest trees await the woodman’s axe; life and industry are everywhere;
the people are like busy bees. I was agreeably surprised to find such a
large township. It is a regular little colony of itself, right away in
one corner of the continent of which we are so justly proud.
[Illustration: DAVIES’ KARRIDALE TIMBER STATION]
Karridale is the headquarters of Mr. Davies’ Karri and Jarrah Mill
Company, and 18 years ago was an impenetrable forest. Mr. Davies has
42,000 acres leased from the Government for 42 years from 1882, and the
mill was started in that year amid many difficulties that have been
overcome only by much perseverance. To-day the settlement is a credit to
Mr. Davies and to the colony, and there is a population of 800 persons
dependent on the estate for their living. There is a good post-office,
through which last year the sum of £2340 was remitted; 3700 telegrams
were sent, and 15,000 letters were posted; all the result of the energy
and enterprise of the gentleman above mentioned, who is assisted by his
handsome sons. The Government now derives a revenue of £5000 per year
from this district. Many of the employées have pretty gardens by their
cottages, which are dotted about the bush in most picturesque fashion.
The single men have rows of cottages to themselves, and there is a large
dining-room built for their use, presided over by a good housekeeper,
and as house-rent is free, and there are no rates or taxes to pay, this
seems to me to be a paradise for the working community. Any article
that a civilised being requires is obtainable here; you might almost
say, from a needle to an anchor. A large store adjoins the office, and
although it is a private agency, settlers in the district also can get
their supplies there. There is a nice hall for entertainments, which are
often got up by the people, and a ball is one of the frequent recreations
in the winter-time. A handsome little church has just been built, which
we observed when coming into the settlement. Moreover, there is the
unusual institution of a hospital for horses, of which there are 200
in the place. A hospital for the people is being built, but everybody
looks so very healthy that I think it will be almost a superfluity. Two
market-gardens and orchards give one an idea of the splendid productivity
of the soil. Ten tons of potatoes per acre, and apple-trees that yield
seven cases each, are quite usual. There is plenty of good grass, and
the bullocks of the estate, 300 in number, live entirely on it, without
artificial food, which means a large saving, and they look splendidly
fat and strong. Mr. Davies was the first man to introduce karri timber
into the markets of the world, and now the company send supplies of it
through England, China, Egypt, India, South Africa, Mauritius, and all
the eastern colonies. Melbourne has patronised karri timber largely.
For wood-blocks it has great strength, and has been proved by British
Admiralty tests to be equal to English oak. The floors of the art gallery
and museum in Melbourne are laid with karri-wood, and in London, Pall
Mall, Piccadilly, and Regent Street have lately been paved with karri
blocks. A log cut over 40 years ago was presented by Mr. Davies to the
Kew Museum. It had been in the ocean 30 years, and is now as good as when
first cut. Karri-wood has the further advantage of not being slippery,
a very essential point in wood-blocks. The karri is an exceptionally
quick-growing tree, and when the matured trees are cut down the young
trees shoot up at once. All the latest improvements are to be found at
Karridale, electric lighting and a telephone service running to the port
and to the lighthouse at Cape Leeuwin. Mr. Davies has a very handsome
house, built in bungalow style.
[Illustration: Felling the Giant Karri]
Taking a seat one morning, by invitation, in the inspection-car, with
its comfortable seats, I started for a tour through the forest to the
adjoining mills at Baranup, where a great many men are employed, and
where there is another little place, more evidences of happiness and
prosperity, and more little cottages nestling among the trees. In
the butcher’s shop I saw an enormous block, the complete section of
a tremendous tree. Seeing a strange lady on the car, the men looked
somewhat surprised, but quite pleased. I wished to see the felling of one
of the kings of the forest, upon which four men were then engaged, two
at each end of the cross-saw. It takes six to fell one of these giants,
and when it is coming down one needs to stand “off the grass,” as the
saying is. When felled, the tree is marked off into certain lengths and
severed into so many logs, then numbers of horses and bullocks appear on
the scene and drag the logs to the nearest landing, then they are put
into the truck and borne off to the mill. At Baranup I was to see the
King Karri that I had heard about before coming, and now, when I saw it,
I was satisfied that, although not yet 400 feet high, it is a king of the
forest; indeed, this giant tree is the largest on indisputable record
in Western Australia. It stands in its great majesty in one of the most
picturesque spots of the colony. Its gnarled and weather-beaten roots of
immense size show that it must be of great age. Its dimensions were given
to me by Mr. Davies, and are as follows:
Girth 4 ft. above ground 30 ft. 8 in.
” 6 ft. 2 in. ” 28 ft. 1 in.
” 132 ft. 6 in. ” 20 ft. 7 in.
Height to top of branches 342 ft. 0 in.
” first fork 146 ft. 0 in.
This tree would make 146 loads of timber and cut up into 3000 sleepers,
enough to lay a mile and a half of railway. Around here are many more
tremendous giant trees awaiting the woodman’s axe. The demand for Western
Australia hardwood is now far greater than the mills can at present
supply.
[Illustration: THE SAND PATCH]
Hamelin Harbour was another surprise. Next morning I proceeded on an
excursion to that place, the train taking a quantity of wood-blocks for
Melbourne streets. A mile and a half on our journey we arrived at the top
of Hamelin Hill. A perfect panorama lay around us; the forest was at our
back, while in front lay the Southern Ocean in all its grandeur, with
little bays and headlands falling into its depths. The pier at Hamelin
Bay, which is seen in the distance, a mile and a half off, is 1800 feet
long. As we approached the bay, the homes of the people employed there
and a charming little lake at the bottom of the valley, with Mr. Davies
yacht and several pretty boats lying at rest on its placid bosom, added
fresh charm to the scene. Arrived at Hamelin Bay, I took a walk down the
long jetty, and the salt seabreeze from both Indian and Southern Oceans
fanned my cheeks with a breath so fresh and bracing that I almost felt as
if I had wings to my feet. Two large vessels were being loaded; the men
seemed to be vying with each other in the effort to do the most work. Two
very large and rather dangerous-looking rocks are not far off the jetty.
I think one is called Mushroom Rock, and certainly it looks more like a
huge mushroom than anything else but a rock. The other is Peak Rock. At
one of the cottages the wife of one of the men was most hospitable, and
made me a nice cup of tea and some toast, which I enjoyed after my early
morning’s start.
On my return to Karridale, having some time to spare, I drove out about
a mile to see the Sand Patch, which is a most peculiar place. It is a
tremendous sandhill 100 feet high, a few miles from the sea, and has
slowly moved inland a few inches every year. Tops of trees may be seen
over the summit, looking like bushes. It is 2 miles wide, and can be seen
a long way off at sea. Many sea-captains take their bearings from it. An
attempt has been made to arrest its march by planting 70,000 grass roots
in the direction it takes, so as to stop its advance, but whether the
attempt will succeed will only be proved by time.