CATTLE AND SHEEP RAISING IN QUEENSLAND.--GRASS THAT KILLS
SHEEP.--PROFITS OF RAISING CATTLE.--RELATIVE ADVANTAGES OF THE TWO
ENTERPRISES.--INCREASE OF FLOCKS AND HERDS.--STATISTICS.--LIVE-STOCK IN
QUEENSLAND.--VISITING A SHEEP-STATION.--DUTIES OF A GOOD
SHEPHERD.--INSANE TENDENCIES OF SHEPHERDS.--MONOTONY OF THEIR
LIVES.--DISAGREEABLE WORK FOR NOVICES.--SHEEP-SHEARING, AND HOW IT IS
PERFORMED.--PACKING AND SHIPPING WOOL.--AMUSING STORY OF A STOLEN
HORSE.--THE MINER WHO HID HIS GOLD IN A HORSE-COLLAR.--BUSH-RANGERS
AND THEIR PERFORMANCES.--"STICKING UP."--"OLIVER, THE TERROR OF
THE NORTH."--HELD BY A WOODEN LEG.--TRICK OF A DISHONEST
GENIUS.--PEARL-FISHING IN AUSTRALIAN WATERS: HOW THE BUSINESS IS
CONDUCTED.--ALLIGATORS.--THE "CARDWELL PET."--SUNDOWNERS.
In their search for knowledge Frank and Fred made many inquiries
relative to the profits of cattle-raising in Australia, and the chances
of making a fortune at it in a given number of years. Here is a summary
of what they ascertained:
[Illustration: THE PRIDE OF THE STATION.]
The part of Queensland bordering the coast is not suited for sheep,
owing to a peculiar grass which grows there. It has a seed with a barb
at the end, and this barb enables it to work its way into any soft
substance; the wool of the sheep becomes so full of this seed that it is
absolutely worthless, and after a time the seeds work their way into the
flesh of the unfortunate animal until they kill him. A man riding or
walking in this grass when it is ripe gets his clothing full of the
seed, and is very apt to lose his temper, from the continual pricking
of the sharp points. Sheep cannot live in this region, but the seeds do
not affect cattle, which thrive on the grass. In the interior the
obnoxious grass does not exist, and consequently it may be roundly
stated that all parts of Queensland are suitable for grazing cattle, but
only the interior is adapted to sheep.
Cattle-raising is less profitable than raising sheep, but it does not
require as much capital, and is less risky. A cattle-run may be made to
pay from the start, while a sheep-station requires a heavy outlay before
any returns can be received.
Mr. Watson said that five thousand cattle could be put on an unimproved
run for about one hundred thousand dollars; the necessary buildings,
yards, weaning-paddock, horse-paddock, and other enclosures would cost
three thousand dollars, while two thousand dollars would pay all the
wages of employés, and for the food and equipment of everybody attached
to the place, for a year. For the first five years only fat cattle
should be sold, and these would be enough to pay working expenses, in
addition to improvements in the way of boundary and other fences.
[Illustration: THE SQUATTER'S PET.]
At the end of five years there would be ten thousand cattle on the run,
and after making liberal allowances for expenses from that time, the
annual increase would be two thousand five hundred, of which fully eight
hundred would be fat cattle. The sale of the increase would return from
twenty-eight to thirty thousand dollars annually; and after deducting
liberally for working expenses, the yearly profit could be put down at
twenty thousand dollars. Meantime the run has doubled in value, and the
investment is paying handsomely.
[Illustration: CATTLE GOING TO WATER.]
This is the bright side of the picture. The dark side contains epidemics
of pleuro-pneumonia, which has been the ruin of squatters on more than
one occasion; added to this is the danger of a severe drought, in which
thousands of cattle die of thirst and the inability to get food in
consequence of the drying up of the grass. In some years millions of
cattle and sheep have perished in this way, and hundreds of owners were
ruined.
"Compared with sheep-raising," said Mr. Watson, "the cattle business
will return a high interest on the capital invested if properly managed
and fairly successful, but does not afford the rapid road to wealth that
many have travelled by a few successful years with sheep. Cattle require
few men to manage them, and entail no great expense before they are sold
and the money is obtained for them. A cattle-station has rarely an
occasion to ask the banks for loans, while the sheep-raiser constantly
requires money to pay for shepherds, shearers, and other laborers, and
is under heavy expense for the carriage of his wool to the seaports.
[Illustration: A HOME IN THE BUSH.]
"It is safe to say," he continued, "that the palmy days of sheep and
cattle raising are gone forever. There is very little country suitable
for grazing purposes that is not already taken up, and the holders want
high prices for their titles and improvements. Formerly a man could go
into the interior, find a good location for a run, enter it for lease,
and then obtain a partner with the capital necessary for stocking it
with a few thousand sheep. With half a dozen good seasons they would
make their fortunes, partly from the sale of wool and the increase of
stock, and partly from the rise in the value of the lease; but at the
same time they might be ruined by two bad seasons of drought, disease
among the sheep, or by the low price of wool."
Frank asked what was the nature of the droughts of which Mr. Watson had
spoken.
"In a general way, they are like droughts anywhere else," was the reply;
"but they have some features peculiar to Australia. In 1883 and 1884 we
had two successive years of drought, a thing never known before. Very
little rain fell in all that time, and in some localities not a drop;
the grass withered, water-holes, springs, and creeks that for years had
been unfailing sources of supply dried up, and the whole country was
desolate. There were single areas hundreds of miles in extent where not
a drop of natural water could be found, and the sheep and cattle
perished in great numbers. Experience has shown that every part of
Australia capable of producing sheep is subject to occasional periods of
unusual drought, and nobody can foretell them. There is only one way of
guarding against their effects."
"What is that?"
"Build reservoirs, and store water in sufficient quantities to last
through the severest droughts. Of course this will cost money, but it
will be a profitable investment in the long run. Many squatters are now
doing this, and they are also putting down driven wells after the system
invented in America about 1860. It is probable that the next
long-continued drought will not cause the death of so many sheep as did
that of 1883 and 1884. The loss of sheep in Queensland in those two
years was nearly three millions."
Fred asked how many sheep, cattle, and horses there were in the colony.
[Illustration: HERD OF MIXED CATTLE ON A STATION.]
"According to the official figures," Mr. Watson replied, "we had at the
last reports (December, 1885), 260,207 horses, 4,162,652 cattle, and
8,994,322 sheep. Compare these figures with those of 1844, when we had
660 horses, 13,295 cattle, and 184,651 sheep. We had more than
12,000,000 sheep in Queensland at the end of 1882, and will doubtless
reach that number again with a single prosperous season. Sheep increase
more rapidly than cattle, as you are doubtless aware, provided the
flocks do not suffer from distemper, drought, severe storms, or other
drawbacks. According to the official figures, we have 75,000,000 sheep
in Australia, or more than twice as many as you have in the United
States."
At the end of the visit to the cattle-station Doctor Bronson and the
youths returned to the railway, and proceeded to a sheep-station in
which their polite and hospitable entertainer was interested. We have
already described sheep-farming in New Zealand, and as the business is
much the same in Australia, the visit was not altogether full of
novelty.
But our friends ascertained that one important difference between
sheep-farming in the two countries was in the matter of snow-storms. We
have seen how the New Zealand flocks suffer from heavy falls of snow; in
Queensland there is no such hinderance, the sheep remaining out-of-doors
the entire year, and needing no protection other than the yards into
which they are driven at night or when wanted for shearing or selection.
[Illustration: A SHEPHERD'S DOG.]
An Australian sheep-station consists of two yards built of logs,
brush-wood, or small saplings. Each yard must be large enough to contain
fifteen hundred sheep; and there is a small hut for two men to sleep in
at night. These stations are scattered over the run at distances of two
or three miles from one another, and there is a head, or central,
station, where the squatter or his manager lives, and whence the
supplies for the men are sent out. According to the size of the run and
the number of sheep upon it will the stations be multiplied. The run our
friends were visiting had twelve stations altogether, the nearest being
one mile from the head station, and the farthest fourteen miles.
In reply to his inquiry as to the duties of a shepherd, Frank learned
the following, which he carefully noted:
[Illustration: EWES AND LAMBS.]
"A good shepherd will let his flock out of the yard soon after sunrise
and before the heat is uncomfortable, and allow them to spread out as
far as can be done with safety. With the aid of his dogs he heads them
towards water, and allows them to feed so as to reach the drinking-place
about noon; then he turns them around and feeds them slowly back again,
so as to get to the yards just at sunset. This is the routine day after
day, with slight variations when the sheep are mustered for selection,
which is not very often. Sunday is the same as any other day on a
sheep-station, as the animals must be pastured exactly as on week-days,
and there is no relay of shepherds."
"It must be a terribly monotonous life," Frank remarked.
"It is indeed," was the reply. "The two men at a station are separated
during the day, as they feed their flocks in different directions, and
at night they are too tired to do much talking, and very often are not
on speaking terms. They become moody and taciturn; and it is a sad fact
that three-fourths of the occupants of insane asylums in Australia are
shepherds.
[Illustration: MOTHER OF A FAMILY.]
"Every shepherd should go armed, as he never knows when he may be
attacked by the blacks. Many a poor fellow has been speared by the
aboriginals; they watch for months until they see him without his gun,
and then rush upon and spear him. Many of the shepherds seem indifferent
to life; and it is not to be wondered at, as they are cut off from
society, have no friends or friendships, and no encouraging prospects
for the future. I have often wondered how it was possible for us to
procure shepherds, when the future has so few inducements for them; but
somehow we always manage to find enough of them. Many men come here with
bright hopes, but they soon tire of the work; if they have money enough
to get away, they generally do so at the end of a few months.
"The new chums that engage as shepherds are always put at the most
disagreeable work, that of looking after diseased sheep, if there are
any on the station. If you want to see what it is, read Mr. Eden's book,
'My Wife and I in Queensland,' and learn what he went through when he
came to the colony. He engaged as a shepherd, and was assigned to look
after sheep affected with the foot-rot. Every morning each animal had to
be caught, its hoofs pared, and a dressing applied of a peculiar
ointment that burned a hole in the operator's clothing if any fell upon
it. He and another man had seven hundred sheep to look after, and each
animal had to be lifted bodily over a fence, and held down by main force
during the operation. When this was completed the flock had to be fed;
and if any sheep died while they were out in pasture the men brought in
the skins, or the value of the animals was deducted from their wages. No
wonder he left the place at the end of two months, and walked back to
Brisbane."
[Illustration: SHEEP-SHEARING IN AUSTRALIA.]
Fred remarked that they must have a very busy time of it at the
sheep-stations during the shearing season.
"It is the busiest time of the year," said Mr. Watson, "and one that
taxes all our abilities. The sheep are driven to the wool-shed, which is
a large quadrangular building, varying in size according to the
capabilities of the station and the extent of its working force. Walk
out with me and look at ours, which is accounted a good one."
The boys were interested in the building, and especially so as Mr.
Watson explained its peculiarities and uses.
"You observe," said he, "that there is a bulkhead running across the
middle of the building, dividing it into two parts, one of which is
intended for sheep, and when full holds about five hundred. This smaller
enclosure opens out from the larger one, and is always kept full, so
that a shearer can lay his hands on a sheep at once without the
necessity of chasing it. This plank floor on each side of the small
enclosure is for the shearers, and there is a small door abreast of
where each man stands. He lets his sheep out of that door after they
have been sheared; and there is a small yard outside each door, where
they remain, so that they can be counted by the manager, and thus all
disputes avoided.
"The shearer drags a sheep from the pen, and places it between his knees
with its head uppermost; he always stands when at work, and for a novice
it is very wearying till he gets used to it. He shears from the throat
downward, leaving the back to the last, when the fleece falls off in one
piece."
"Do the men ever cut the sheep while shearing?" Fred asked.
"Yes, very often," was the response; "and some men 'tomahawk' a great
deal worse than others, and never seem to improve. When this happens the
shearer does not stop an instant; he calls out 'tar!' and the man or boy
whose duty it is to gather up the fleeces rushes to the spot with a
tar-bucket and brush, and covers the wound with tar to keep away the
flies. The sheep do not struggle, no matter how badly they are hurt, and
are literally 'dumb before the shearers.'"
"How many sheep can a good operator shear in a day?"
"The number varies according to skill and experience," said Mr. Watson.
"The men are paid an agreed price per score--usually five shillings, or
four sheep for a shilling. I have known men who could shear sixscore, or
one hundred and twenty sheep, in a day, but under ordinary circumstances
it takes a good shearer to do fourscore. In addition to their pay, the
squatter must feed them; in rainy weather all work ceases, as the wool
cannot be packed when wet."
"Where do the shearers come from?"
[Illustration: SHEDS AND CHICKEN-YARD OF A STATION.]
"That's a hard question to answer. They follow other occupations except
at shearing-time, when they form themselves into gangs and travel about
the country; they are usually well mounted, and generally a gang carries
its own cook, and is very particular about its way of living. The
squatters find it to their advantage to feed the shearers liberally, and
I have known one who hired a fiddler to play all day in the shed, to
keep the men in good-humor. Most of these fellows are gamblers, and
generally by the end of their season a few skilful players among them
have all the money earned by the entire gang.
"After the wool is sheared it is packed into bales and pressed hard by
means of machinery almost identical with a cotton-press. In this
condition it is sent to the coast, and shipped to England or whatever
market is open for it. High prices for wool make good profits for the
squatters, and low prices the reverse, just as is the case in business
generally. Many squatters have their entire crop of wool mortgaged to
the bankers who have made advances upon it; in this respect
sheep-stations are more desirable than cattle-stations, as money can
always be had in advance upon the crop of wool."
[Illustration: SHEEP-WASHING ON THE MODERN PLAN.]
Some of the large establishments have adopted improved methods of
washing sheep; our friends had an opportunity to inspect one of them;
during the inspection Frank made a drawing of the washing apparatus, to
which he appended the following description:
"_A_ represents a twenty-horse-power engine working a sixteen-inch
pump, _B_, which raises water from the river alongside, discharging
about three thousand gallons per minute into spouting tank, _C_
(half of which is cut off in the drawing to show the work behind).
The tank is of iron, four feet deep, furnished with a spout four
feet six inches deep, terminating in a narrow opening three feet
long and three-sixteenths or one-quarter inch wide, the width being
regulated by screws.
"Through this aperture the water, under the pressure of eight feet
six inches, rushes with great force. _E e e_ is an iron tub in
which the 'spouter' stands while holding the sheep under the spout.
_F_ is an inclined plane, up which the sheep walk after emerging
from the water, passing on to large batten yards, one hundred and
fifty feet by one hundred feet, where they remain till partially
dry. These yards are not shown in the drawing. _G_ is another
ten-horse-power engine, used for cutting firewood at the
circular-saw bench, _h_, and to furnish steam to heat water in the
soaking tank, _i_, and the ten square tanks, _k_, ranged along
either side of the soaking tank.
"To each of these tanks is fitted a branch steam-pipe, _m_,
communicating with the main steam-pipe, _n n_, leading from the
boilers of both engines, _A_ and _G_, so that both are available
for heating water, of which a very large quantity, varying from
seven thousand to ten thousand gallons, is required for a single
day's work. _O o o_ are water pipes leading from the spouting tank,
_C_, to supply the square tanks, _k_, the soap-tubs, _P_ and _Q_,
and spare-water tub, _R_. The soap-tubs are also fitted with
steam-pipes, for the purpose of boiling their contents. _S_ is a
donkey-engine placed over a well, from whence, driven by a
continuation of steam-pipes from both boilers, it draws water for
showering through a flexible hose the dirty sheep in the receiving
yard, _t_, for transmission through the pipe _n_ of water to
drinking-troughs for the washed sheep in the batten yards, filling
up the pump by branch pipes, which is often necessary, and for
various other purposes.
"The receiving yards having been filled with sheep, the water in,
and the tanks brought up to the required temperature by means of
the steam-pipes, and the soaking-tank charged with the prescribed
proportion of dissolved soap, etc., the pump is set to work to fill
the spouting tank and reservoirs underneath into which the spouts
discharge. The portcullis gate, _W_, is then lifted, and from eight
to ten sheep are sent down the inclined shoot, _X_, into the
soaking-tank, when they are manipulated by men on either side, and
allowed to swim for four or five minutes. Hence they pass on to the
rinsing stage, _Y_; again down a short incline to the stage, _Z_;
from thence, lastly, they are handed to the spouters. By these they
are rolled and turned under the knife-like jet of water for two
minutes, when they swim out to the inclined landing-stage as white
as snow.
"When the water in the soaking-tank becomes overcharged with dirt,
by a simple arrangement it can be emptied and refilled with clean
hot water from the square tank, in which a constant supply is kept
up, in eight or ten minutes. From twelve hundred to two thousand
sheep are washed daily."
Frank and Fred learned many other things about sheep-farming in
Australia, but they made no further notes on the subject, and therefore
we will drop it. At any rate, they did not conclude to go into the
business when they learned of its hazards and discomforts, and
ascertained from the newspapers that the price of wool was at that time
quite low.
Frank made a memorandum of a good story that he heard during the
evening, while they sat in front of the fire in the sitting-room of the
head station. It was told by the manager of the place, and was as
follows:
"When I first came to Australia," said the manager, "I was employed on a
cattle-station in Victoria; while I was there gold was discovered about
ten miles away from us. The rush to the mines caused a demand for our
cattle, and the owner did a fine business in supplying the miners with
beef; but, on the other hand, there was a great deal of stealing, so
that he was obliged to hire more men than usual. The favorite objects of
the thieves were our saddle-horses, and every few days a horse would be
missing from the paddock, and the chances of his recovery were doubtful.
"But we had one horse that was a treasure. He was perfectly docile in
harness, and would stand quietly while being saddled, but anybody who
mounted him was thrown at once. He was kept as a carriage-horse, and was
a favorite of the manager, and was so docile that he could be caught at
any time with a handful of oats.
"Once or twice a month he would be missed from the paddock. In a day or
two he reappeared, and almost always with a saddle and somebody's
'swag,' or baggage, strapped to it. Once he came back with a new saddle
and a swag containing, among other things, thirty ounces of gold-dust,
and nobody ever appeared to claim it. Another time he brought in twenty
ounces and three gold watches. Altogether, in the course of a year, he
was stolen about twenty times, and must have brought home two or three
thousand dollars' worth of gold-dust, to say nothing of the saddles. He
kept the place supplied with saddles all the time I was there."
"A very profitable horse," remarked Doctor Bronson. "I suppose the owner
was not willing to sell him?"
"Not by any means," was the reply. "He used to say that he had only to
'set' that horse in the paddock as he would any other trap, and the
thieves walked in at once."
"That reminds me of a Melbourne horse story," said one of the listeners.
Being pressed to give it, he did so.
[Illustration: THE RUSH FOR THE GOLD-MINES.]
"In the days of the gold rush in 1851," said he, "there were two men in
Melbourne who made a fortune in horse-trading. They had two or three
horses trained for their business, and when a party was fitting out for
the mines, one of these horses would be offered for sale. Of course the
would-be purchasers wanted to try the animal first, and the dealer would
point to a steep hill on Bourke Street, and suggest that the horse be
tried with a load up that hill.
"The animal was attached to a loaded dray, and straightway pulled it to
the top of the hill without hesitation or pause. Of course that settled
the question of his usefulness, and he would be sold at a good price;
but when attached to a load and started for the mines, he balked and
refused to pull at all. Silent partners of the dealer were watching on
the road, with other horses for sale, and they soon made a trade in
which the balky beast was thrown in for almost nothing.
"The fact was, the trick-horses were fed at the top of the hill, and
only after they had drawn up a heavy load. Sometimes the same horse was
sold two or three times in one day; and it was afterwards said that a
single horse had been disposed of for fifty pounds and bought in for
five pounds at least a hundred times."
"I can't tell a horse story," said another of the party, "but I've one
that comes close to it, and that's a horse-collar story."
Of course everybody wanted to hear it, and he complied with the general
wish.
[Illustration: BUSH-RANGER OUT OF LUCK.]
"You all know that soon after the discovery of gold in Victoria the
country was infested with bush-rangers, or highwaymen, who made it very
unsafe to travel with gold-dust or other valuable property. A man was
liable to hear the order to 'bail up!' at any moment, and find a gun or
pistol levelled at him. Unless he obeyed with alacrity and threw his
hands in the air, he was in great danger of having a bullet through him.
Very often it happened that an armed man would be taken unawares, and
though he had a rifle in his hand or a pistol at his belt, there was no
chance to make use of the weapon. Sometimes two or three bush-rangers
would 'stick up' a stage-coach; while one watched the passengers, ranged
along the road-side, and kept them within range of a revolver, and
perhaps two revolvers, another searched them and took possession of
their valuables.
"Gold was sent down from the mines under a Government escort to protect
it from the bush-rangers, and of course a heavy charge was made for the
service. Various devices were adopted to foil the rascals by those who
undertook to transport their own treasure.
"Men concealed their gold in their clothing or about their wagons, and
one smart fellow put nearly a hundred ounces inside a horse-collar,
which was worn by the single horse drawing a dray containing a few
bundles of clothing and other insignificant things.
[Illustration: BUSH-RANGERS AT WORK.]
"He got along all right for the first two days, and on the third began
to feel entirely safe. While he was jogging along the road he was
overtaken by a man who said the police were after him on account of a
fight with a drunken fellow at a way-side inn. He said his horse was
much jaded, and he would give the stranger ten sovereigns to exchange.
"The bargain was quickly made, as the animals appeared to be of about
equal value. The miner unfastened his horse from the dray, and began to
unharness it. As he did so the stranger, quick as a flash, seized the
collar, threw it around the neck of his own steed, sprung on its back,
where the saddle still remained, and was off like the wind.
"'That's all I wanted, mate,' said he, as he rode away. He had somehow
learned the miner's scheme for carrying his gold, and played this
elaborate game to rob him."
"Speaking of bush-rangers," said another, "did you ever hear of Oliver,
'the Terror of the North?'"
Some had heard of him and others had not, so the story was called for.
"There was once a bush-ranger of that name in the north of Queensland,"
said the narrator, "and he had been 'sticking up' people in the country
back of Robinson. He had a wooden leg, but in spite of this defect he
was a bold robber and a very slippery one to hold. He got away from the
police several times after they had fairly caught him; and catching him
was no small matter.
"One time when he'd been at his tricks, the police got him and brought
him to Robinson. The jail there was in a very bad condition, and the
police magistrate was at a loss how to keep Oliver, until a happy
thought struck him. What do you suppose it was?"
Nobody could guess, and the story-teller continued:
"Well, he locked Oliver up in the jail, but took his leg to his own
house, and locked _that_ in a trunk. Oliver stayed that time, and didn't
even try to break jail."
"We were speaking of horses just now," said one of the party, "and that
reminds me of a clever trick which was played on a rich squatter by a
man in his employ. He had sent the man on an errand, and mounted him on
a valuable white horse. It was at the rainy season of the year, and all
the creeks were flooded. On the bank of a creek which he had to cross
the man spied a white horse lying dead at the water's side.
"A brilliant idea occurred to him, an inspiration of rascally genius. He
dismounted, skinned the dead horse, concealed the skin in the bushes,
and rode away, and sold the animal he was riding for a good price. Then
he returned to where he had concealed the skin; and after soaking his
saddle and bridle in the river for an hour, he went back to the station,
carrying saddle, bridle, and skin, and covered from head to foot with
mud. There he told how in attempting to cross a creek the horse was
overcome by the waters, and had just strength to reach the bank, where
he died. As for himself, he had a narrow escape with his life; and to
prove the truth of his story, he had brought home the skin of the once
valuable beast.
"The squatter believed the story, blamed himself for sending the man on
such a dangerous mission, and gave him ten sovereigns as a reward for
his fidelity and compensation for his wetting. The man left the place
soon afterwards for another part of the colony; months later the
squatter saw his horse advertised for sale, and on inquiry found how he
had been imposed upon."
[Illustration: LEADING CITIZENS OF SOMERSET.]
From anecdotes about horses and bush-rangers the conversation turned
upon the pearl-fishery on the northern coast of Queensland.
"It is quite an extensive industry," said Mr. Watson, "and employs a
considerable number of men. The exports of pearl-shell from Queensland
for the year 1885 were 13,189 hundred-weight, valued at £87,110, or
$400,000; and in some years the product has exceeded that amount. Other
parts of Australia produce pearl-shell and pearls, and altogether the
fishery is a very important one."
[Illustration: PEARL OYSTER.]
Doctor Bronson asked if it was profitable.
"Very much so," was the reply. "At one time pearl-shell was worth £250 a
ton; the pearls were reckoned to pay the cost of the work, so that the
money obtained for the shell was clear profit. Even when shell fell to
half that price the profits were heavy; and certainly they ought to be,
to induce a man to endure the privations of the work.
"The best pearls are from the west coast of Australia; they are not
equal to Oriental pearls in color, but they are very large, and are
eagerly sought. One was sold in London for £1500, or $7500; and
frequently single pearls bring as high as $2000.
"I stopped a short time at Somerset, which is the most northerly town in
Australia, and entirely devoted to the pearl-fishery. The men living
there are a rough lot, wearing very little superfluous clothing, and
quite careless about appearances. They go out with sloops and schooners,
and send down divers in just the same way that pearl-diving is carried
on in Ceylon and the Persian Gulf. Their divers are all black men, and
in fact many of them come from the Persian Gulf, being attracted to
Australia by the higher wages paid there. The shells are shaped like
oyster-shells, and are from twelve to fifteen inches across. The lining
of the shell, technically known as _nacre_, or mother-of-pearl, is the
article sought; but the oyster is carefully examined to see that no
pearls are missed."
"Didn't I read not long ago about the drowning of many fishers on the
coast of West Australia?" said one of the youths.
[Illustration: AUSTRALIAN PEARLS (FULL SIZE).]
"Quite probably," was the reply, "and you are liable to hear of such a
calamity at any time. The West Australian fisheries are subject to
terrific hurricanes. The signs of these hurricanes are well known, and
every fishing-boat has ample time to reach a place of safety; but the
fishers are too reckless to take any precautions, and every few months a
lot of their boats are sent to the bottom or driven high and dry on the
shore. The few that escape death on such occasions immediately get new
boats, and start off on another expedition as if such a thing as a
hurricane had never been heard of.
"Alligators abound in all the rivers of the northern part of Australia;
they grow to a great size and are dangerous, and not a year passes that
we do not hear of somebody being killed by them while taking a swim or
attempting to cross a swollen stream. They are great nuisances at cattle
and sheep stations located on the rivers where they abound, as they make
a clean sweep of calves, dogs, sheep, and other small animals while
drinking, and have been known to attack full-grown bullocks."
"Did you ever know an adult alligator to be treated as a pet?" said the
man who had told the horse-collar story, addressing his query to Mr.
Watson.
Mr. Watson shook his head, whereupon the story-teller said he had known
such a case. The saurian was not only an individual but a public pet.
Frank and Fred were curious to learn about it. Their curiosity was
gratified as follows:
"Years ago," said the man, "I was at the town of Cardwell, in North
Queensland. It is on a pretty bay, which is full of fish and oysters,
and was then the home of a monster alligator which was known as the
'Cardwell Pet.' Every morning something resembling a huge log was seen
floating under the trees near the shore; it was not a log, but the back
of the pet, and he was on the lookout for a stray dog coming down to the
water.
"He ate up most of the dogs in town soon after he appeared, and whenever
a new dog happened along with a stranger he usually became a _bonne
bouche_ for the pet. But there were two dogs in Cardwell that knew his
ways; when ordered to do so, they would go down on the beach, where they
barked and played with each other, apparently heedless of the alligator,
but all the time keeping out of range of his jaws. In this way he was
often enticed out upon the sand, the dogs seeming to enjoy the fun. He
became the lion of the place, and was always the first sight shown to
strangers. When the town was first established, shots were fired at him;
but as soon as his importance as a curiosity became known, he enjoyed
immunity, and at the time I was there any one who ventured to harm him
would have been roughly handled by the inhabitants, as he was literally
the pet of the town."
Frank asked the narrator if he knew how large the Cardwell Pet was.
[Illustration: BIG BEN AND HIS FRIENDS.]
"I do not," was the reply, "and circumstances did not permit accurate
measurement. I have seen many alligators in Queensland that exceeded
nineteen feet in length, several that were more than twenty, and there
was one taken on the Fitzroy and called Big Ben that measured
twenty-three feet six inches. When I last heard of him he was owned by
Jamrach, in London. I think the Cardwell Pet was quite equal to Big Ben,
and possibly larger; you know it is always the largest fish that is not
weighed or measured. Anyway, the pet was said to have made a meal of a
sundowner, though I don't believe he really did, as that class of game
is too cautious."
Fred asked what a sundowner was. He had heard the term several times,
but thus far it had not been explained to him.
[Illustration: WAITING FOR SUNSET.]
"He is the equivalent of the American 'tramp,'" said Mr. Watson, "and
abounds freely in Australia. He is fed and lodged at the stations, where
he is careful to arrive at sundown or a little later, and hence his
name. If he gets there before sunset he is requested to move on to the
next stopping-place, or else he is asked to make himself useful at some
kind of work during the remaining hours or minutes of the day. He abhors
work, and therefore times his arrival to avoid it. Sometimes a group of
these fellows will rest by the way-side a mile or so from a station,
waiting for the sun to disappear.
"Many a vagabond makes an easy living by wandering from one station to
another, pretending that he wants employment but carefully avoiding it.
The sundowner is as insolent as the American tramp; by Australian custom
he is welcome to supper, lodging, and breakfast, the food consisting of
tea, sugar, bread, and beef or mutton, and the lodging being in his own
blankets on the floor of the men's hut or the wool-shed. I have had a
dozen or more of these 'travellers' on a single night, and my monthly
average is not less than one hundred and twenty. Sometimes a party of
them has been so unruly and so threatening in their demands that I have
been compelled to send for the local police to carry them away.
"On one occasion," the gentleman continued, "a ruffianly traveller drew
a knife and threatened to stab my cook, because the latter refused to
give him a mutton-pie that had been prepared for the men, the
travellers' table being filled with cold beef as the only viand. I had
him handcuffed and taken to the police-station, where he was recognized
as a man who was 'wanted' for a robbery somewhere up country.
[Illustration: EVENING SCENE AT AN UP-COUNTRY STATION.]
"As a general thing, the squatters hesitate to quarrel with the
sundowners, preferring to suffer their impositions rather than run the
risk of having their buildings and fences burned, and other depredations
committed. Of late years the number of vagrants seems to have
diminished, but the supply is yet far in excess of the country's needs."
NOTE.--Since this book was put in type the laboring classes in
Australia have united in a popular agitation against the
Mongolians, and have compelled the leading governments to adopt
stringent measures. The poll-tax on these immigrants has been
increased in New South Wales from fifty dollars to five hundred
dollars; their naturalization has been prohibited altogether; rigid
restrictions are imposed as to residence and trading; and vessels
are allowed to land only one Chinaman for every three hundred tons.
Chinese merchants are allowed to trade in certain districts of the
provinces, but the number for each district is limited to five.
These restrictions were authorized by a government bill which was
passed by the Colonial Assembly without a dissenting voice. The
resident Chinese have been attacked by mobs at Brisbane, and
immigrants and cargoes have not been permitted to land at Sydney
and Melbourne. The Colonial authorities of Queensland and Victoria
favor a policy of complete exclusion, and in New Zealand the
Premier has publicly announced his conversion to the same views.