[Illustration: THE AUTHOR. 1890. ]

 Reminiscences of Queensland 1862-1899. 

 BY

 W. H. CORFIELD. 

 BRISBANE: A. H. FRATER, INNS OF COURT, ADELAIDE STREET. 

 1921

 Printed by H. Pole & Co. Limited, Elizabeth Street, Brisbane. 

 To the Men and Women of the North and West. 

 To those who Blazed the Trail, and to those who Followed. 

FOREWORD

The reasons for this book are as follow:--Whilsttalking over early days with Mr. Courtenay-Luck, the popular Secretary of the Commercial Travellers'Club, that gentleman suggested that I should writea paper, to be read at a meeting of the HistoricalSociety of Queensland. 

In writing that paper, so many long-forgottenmen, places and incidents came back to memorythat I thought my reminiscences might proveinteresting to others. I may be occasionally incorrectin dates, or in the sequence of events, but I relatefacts and personal experiences. As they are, I leavethem to the kind consideration of readers. 

W. H. CORFIELD. 

 _Sandgate, October, 1920. _

Reminiscences of Queensland 1862-1899. 

CHAPTER I. 

As it is in the blood of most Englishmen from the "West Country" to seekadventure abroad, it is little wonder that the visit of an uncle fromAustralia strengthened a desire I felt to seek my fortune in thatcountry. This uncle--H. C. Corfield--was the owner of some pastoralcountry in the Burnett district, and described in glowing terms life inthe Australian bush. I might say here this was not all it had beenpainted, but that by the way. 

And so it happened that on a cold, foggy morning in February, 1862, Ifound myself with an old schoolmate--George Custard--on board of, as itwas then customary to advertise, "the good ship, 'City of Brisbane, '1, 100 tons burthen, 'Neville, ' Master, " which lay in Plymouth Sound, waiting her final complement of passengers for Queensland. 

Mr. Henry Jordan, who was representing the Colony, came on board toaddress the passengers, who, he said, were going to a land of promise, where in the evening of his life, a man--as the reward of hislabour--would sit in the shade of his own fig tree and enjoy the rest hehad earned. 

Soon the capstan was manned, and the anchor lifted to the old chantey:

 For tinkers, and tailors, and lawyers, and all, Way! Aye! Blow the men down! They ship for real sailors, aboard the Black Ball, Give me some time to blow the men down. Blow, boys, blow, to Californeo-o-! There's plenty of gold, so we've been told, On the banks of Sacremento!

This we found was our good-bye to England, and, towed out by a tug, wecommenced our long voyage to Australia. When well clear of the land, thetug dropped us, and with a favourable breeze, we made quick passage tothe entrance of the channel. 

By this time most of the passengers were suffering the usualdisabilities felt by landsmen for the first few days at sea. I soongained my sea legs, and was able to take a view of my surroundings. 

Here we were--365 human beings, who would be cooped up for weeks in asailing ship, and with as many different characters, sympathies andantipathies, one wondered if it could be possible to live long withharmony and unselfishness in such daily crowded contact. I suppose wewere representative of the many, who, whether in the poop or steerage ofsimilar ships, were looking hopefully towards the far off, not-long-named southern colony, which was becoming known to the peopleof Great Britain. 

I was just nineteen, and all things looked bright and cheerful, but Iwas impatient for the time when, on a bounding steed, I would bescouring the plains, following the sheep and cattle on my uncle'sproperty where, as an employee, I was to begin my adventures. 

After a passage of 137 days, spent either in glorious runs beforefavouring winds, wearisome calms, or battling against heavy gales, wearrived in Moreton Bay, and in due course at Brisbane. 

The city, as it was in 1862, has so often been described, that it isunnecessary for me to say anything as to its appearance. All I need sayis that it did not enter my mind to anticipate its growth andimportance. 

Our ship's surgeon was Dr. Margetts, who, for many years afterwards, practised his profession at Warwick. It is to his credit that we had nodeaths on the voyage, but immediately after landing, a little girlpassenger died. I helped to dig her grave on the ridges somewhere outtowards Fortitude Valley. My destination was "Stanton Harcourt, " 55miles north-west from Maryborough, which my uncle held as a station. Hewas taking an active part in the great developments which, at this time, were being carried out by the squatters. I was directed by my uncle'sagents, George Raff and Co. , to engage five or six of the immigrants asshepherds. These accompanied me to Maryborough by the old steamer"Queensland. " On arrival at Maryborough the shepherds were taken chargeof by the local agents, and I was instructed to ride on to the station. I left Maryborough alone the same afternoon, but had not gone far when Ifound I was bushed. Riding back I struck the main road, and followed itto the public house at the Six-mile, which was a favourite camping placefor carriers. My new-chum freshness immediately attracted the attentionof the bullock-drivers camped there, who told me of the dangers I wouldmeet from the blacks, unless I propitiated them by generous gifts oftobacco. 

These stories so much impressed me that I bought a large quantity oftobacco from the publican. After that, when I saw any blacks, even ifoff the road, I would ride over and give some tobacco, which surprisedand amused them considerably. I arrived at the public house, at a placeknown as "Musket Hat, " in time for dinner. A gentleman who knew my unclehappened to be there, and whilst waiting for dinner, said, "Come out, and I will show you a good racehorse. " Outside a horse was being groomedby a man, who took some pains to describe his good points. I appreciatedthe man's kindness, and on leaving handed him a shilling to buy a drink. This he took with a smile, and thanked me. I felt somewhat small when myfriend told me that I had tipped the owner of the horse himself, andthat he would tell the joke in such a way that it would be long before Iforgot it, and this proved to be so. 

Towards sundown, my friend left me at the turn off of the main road. Myfirst ride through Australian bush was very lonely, and I was verytimid. I heard what sounded like revolver shots, loud shouting, andmuch swearing. This I learned later was the ordinary language used whendriving bullocks, while what I took to be revolver shots, was thecracking of bullock-whips. At the time I imagined a battle was beingfought with bushrangers, but it turned out that it was merely thestation bullock teams going to Maryborough for stores, and to bring upthe hands engaged by me, with their belongings. 

I found the station in charge of a manager, and that my uncle had gonenorth in search of new country for the sheep. Grass seed and foot rotwere playing havoc with the sheep on "Stanton Harcourt. " Shortly aftermy arrival, 1, 000 head of cattle purchased from White, of Beaudesert, reached the station. In those days pounds were unknown, and I now had myfirst experience in drafting cattle in an open yard. An old cow, evidently knowing that I was raw, came at me, and would have caught me, but that my hat fell off and attracted her attention. She impaled thehat instead of me. My next lesson was in bullock driving. I was sentwith two loads of wool to Maryborough, having a black boy to drive oneteam, and another boy to muster the bullocks. These would not allow theblack boys to go near them to yoke up, so I had to do this for bothteams. After capsizing my dray three times on the road, and pulling downa fence in the town, I delivered the wool. The blacks had a short timebefore stuck up several drays, and carried the loading in their canoesacross the river. 

On the far side there was a dense scrub through which it was difficultto track them. My boys said I would be stuck up when passing this spot, so I rode on the dray, carrying a loaded revolver. However, I was notmolested, probably due to the fact that, unknown to me, LieutenantWheeler with his troopers were at the moment busy among the blacks. 

My uncle had returned before me, but had not been successful in securingcountry. When lambing came on, Custard and I were sent out without anyspecial instructions to lamb a flock of ewes. Following the strong mobback to the yards in the evening, the lambs tried my temper. I providedmyself with stones, and being a fairly good shot, I reduced thepercentage of lambs to some extent. 

One night there was a great stampede in the yard, and thinking it was adingo among the sheep, I went out with a gun. Seeing an object moving inthe dark, I fired both barrels, and the supposed dingo fell. I had shotone of the ration sheep which had been dropped during the day. Beingwithout any control or instructions in regard to the sheep, we decidedour working hours to be--rise at 7 a. M. , breakfast at 7. 30, start workat 8. The sheep remained in the yard until the last-mentioned hour. This did not improve their condition. One morning my uncle arrivedbefore we had turned out, and expressed himself strongly upon thelaziness of new chums in general. Excusing ourselves by the fact that itwas not yet seven did not calm the atmosphere. My uncle was one whoinsisted upon plenty of time for a long day's work. I very quicklylearned the value of early rising in the bush, and in the interest ofthe sheep, when necessary, to go without breakfast. 

I remember my first night alone in the bush. I was sent to anout-station with 300 sheep, and a black boy to assist in driving them. At sundown I could see nothing of the hut. I had read that fires wouldkeep off native dogs or dingoes. I tied my horse to a tree, and gatheredwood, forming a ring of fires around the sheep. The black boy saidsomething to me in his own language. Thinking he asked me if he shouldbring some more wood, I replied with the only word I knew, "Yewi. " Aftera little time I missed the boy, and cooeed for him. He replied as from adistance. I wondered why he had gone so far when there was plenty ofwood close by. He did not return, and it was not long before my horsebroke away. All night was spent walking around the sheep. What weirdsounds I heard, and what strange shapes I saw moving. When one is alonein the bush at night, even after years of experience, the imagination isapt to run riot. Especially is it so at midnight and towards the smallhours of the morning. At daylight the sheep commenced to move. Ifollowed them, carrying my saddle and bridle. About mid-day one of thestation boys found me, and inquired why I sent the black boy home. Itthen dawned on me why I had been left alone. The boy had asked to beallowed to go home, and I had said "Yewi"--yes. I suppose I was onlyundergoing the usual bush experience of the new chum, and had a gooddeal to learn, but I was undoubtedly learning. 

CHAPTER II. 

Following the cotton strike in England during 1863, a large number ofLancashire operatives emigrated to Australia. As the station neededshepherds, the agents in Brisbane were instructed to engage two marriedcouples and three single men. I was despatched with a black boy, threehorses and a dray, to bring them from Maryborough. Their luggage filledthe dray, but I managed to find room for the two women and the children. The others had to walk. The first day out we reached Mr. Helsham'sstation at South Doongal. He allotted me an empty hut for the party. Atdinner that evening I told him and the overseer how very frightened theemigrants were of the blacks. "Is that so, " he said. "Well, we will trythem to-night after the boys have had their evening corroborree. " Anumber of blacks were camped there at the time, so he sent word to hisstation boys to come up. When they did so, he told them to surround thehut, and yell out, "Kill 'em white fella, kill 'em white Mary. " We wentdown to see what we thought was fun. I never had to run harder than Idid to reach the station before the new chums, who streamed out of thehut in their night attire, and made for the house. I had the greatestdifficulty in pacifying them. They refused to return to the hut, andcamped on the verandah, the single men remaining on watch. 

After their flight from the hut, the pigs appropriated their rationswhich confirmed their belief in a narrow escape from wholesaleslaughter. I felt sorry for the joke, more particularly as for theremainder of the journey they would not leave the dray, or go for water, unless the black boy or I went with them. As shepherds these men werenot a success. They were invariably losing sheep, adding to myresponsibility as overseer. 

In September of that year, I had my first experience ofshearing--getting through 20 the first day. It was back-aching andwrist-breaking work, and I longed for the day when I went out with theration pack-horse. 

In those days the sheep were hand-washed in a water hole, in which weworked up to our middle all day. The blacks had to be watched veryclosely, as, if opportunity offered, they would catch a sheep's hind legwith their toes, and drown the animal, expecting they would get themeat. I detected them in the act, so I burnt the carcase. This put anend to the practice. Mustering and branding the cattle followed theshearing, and these were much livelier occupations. We had a heavy wetseason in that year, and I had plenty of opportunities to gainexperience in flooded creeks. About April, 1863, Edward Palmer (yearsafterwards M. L. A. For Carpentaria), who was in charge of his uncle'sstation "Eureka, " four miles from "Stanton Harcourt, " started with thesheep depasturing there for the Gulf country. He eventually settled atCanobie, on the Williams River, a tributary of the Cloncurry. 

In September one of the new shepherds absconded, leaving his sheep inthe yard at an out-station. I was instructed by my uncle to take out asummons, and applied to Mr. W. H. Gaden, a neighbouring squatter, forit. The summons was sent to Maryborough for service. In due time I hadto appear as prosecutor. The man had engaged a solicitor, who, when thecase was called on, applied for a discharge, as the summons did notstate it was sworn to, but only signed W. H. Gaden, J. P. The man wasdischarged on these grounds. I was not sorry. He was useless as ashepherd, but through him I had obtained an enjoyable ride toMaryborough with all expenses paid. 

My uncle in the meantime had again started out to seek new country forthe sheep, and engaged Mr. Walter Carruthers, of Carruthers and Wood, Rocky Springs station, Auburn River, to take charge of the mob of12, 000, leaving instructions that they were to start before the end of1864. 

Great preparations were required to equip the party. We were taking 30saddle horses, two bullock teams, and one horse team. In addition to thestores, we had to provide all sorts of tools, etc. , to build and form anew station. 

I preferred to drive one of the bullock teams. My duties on arrival atcamp were to erect a tent and two iron stretchers for Carruthers andmyself, take my watch every night from three to daylight, and then tomuster the bullocks. In the case of dry stages I also had to take waterto the men. 

When passing through Gayndah I purchased tobacco from John Connolly (whodied lately at the very great age of 102 years), and for which I had topay £1 per pound. 

When we came to the Dawson River, near Mrs. McNabb's station, it was inflood. We felled a big tree across the stream, and with boughs and othertimber, improvised a bridge. For three days we were working in ourshirts only, getting the sheep and--when the water fell--the teamsacross. Mosquitoes, sandflies, and a hot sun made us nearly raw. Alongthis road Carruthers had his favorite horse "Tenby" stolen. He had hungthe animal up to the verandah post of a wayside public house, to see thesheep and teams pass. After they had gone by, and while Carruthers washaving a drink, a man jumped on the horse and galloped away. Carrutherswalked on to the sheep, got a fresh horse, and with our black boyfollowed the thief until they came to the spot where, in a piece ofscrub, he had pulled the mane and tail of the horse to alter itsappearance. Darkness coming on, they had to abandon further pursuit. Thehorse was a very fine chestnut. A new saddle and bridle, a pouchcontaining cheque book and revolver, were taken with him, so the robberhad a good haul. There were no telegraph stations out back in thosedays. 

When passing Apis Creek, near the Mackenzie River, I met a man namedChristie, whom I afterwards learnt was Gardiner, the ex-bushranger. Wepassed through Taroom, Springsure, on to Peak Downs station, where weessayed a short cut on to the Cotherstone road, but when we had gothalf-way, the owner made us turn back. I had a very rough time drivingthe leading dray through the loose, black soil, and was glad to get backon the road, which was well beaten by the teams carrying copper fromClermont to Broadsound. 

We eventually reached Lord's Table Mountain, where we had permission toremain, whilst I took the drays into Clermont to be repaired, and toobtain an additional supply of rations. Whilst staying at Winter'sHotel, I met Griffin, the warden--afterwards hanged for shooting thetroopers guarding the gold escort, of which he was in charge. 

I also met Fitzmaurice, destined in after years to become my partner inthe far west. He had brought in drays from Surbiton station to berepaired. 

Carruthers then rented some country from Rolfe, on Mistake Creek, onwhich to shear the sheep. I shore 800. My salary was now £80 per year, for which I acted as overseer, bookkeeper, and giving a hand as generalutility at all kinds of work. After shearing, the sheep were taken downto Chambers' Camp, on the same creek, whilst I took the wool to PortMackay. When crossing the Expedition Range, before reaching Clermont, onmy way from Mistake Creek, I rode over to a small diggings to purchasemeat. The only butcher was a man named Jackson, whose wife served me. She was a fine, comely woman, whom I afterwards met on the Lower Palmer, where her husband was keeping a store. He was burnt to death onLimestone Creek on that river. Eventually, she married Thos. Lynett, apacker from Cooktown to Edward's Town (as Maytown was popularly known), and who, with Fitzmaurice and myself, was, in later years, one of thefounders of Winton, on the Western River. Mrs. Lynett lately died inWinton at the ripe age of 84, her husband, Tom Lynett, havingpre-deceased her some years. Like most of the women who pioneered, shehad a grand heart, and I learnt how the diggers appreciated her motherlykindness. 

The early wet season caught me at Boundary Creek, ten miles beyond Nebo. I was stuck in a bog for five weeks, rain pouring the whole time. Ieventually delivered the wool, loaded up rations from Brodziak Bros. , and started on my return journey. In those days the range was in aprimitive state, and coming down my mate capsized his dray. While I wasassisting him, I had a Colt's revolver stolen off my dray, presumably bysome of the road party who were cutting down the steep parts. 

After crossing the range, the pleuro broke out amongst my bullocks, andI lost one whole team. I went into Retreat station and purchased severalsteers. The hot weather and heavy pulling soon killed these, leaving mestranded on the Isaacs River. One day a squatter from North Creekstation rode up, and hearing my plight, said there was a team ofbullocks running on his country for several months. Who the owner was, or where they came from, was unknown. Acting on his hint, I picked outwhat I considered the best, and continued my journey to the sheep. Having met my requirements, I turned the bullocks loose. In response toenquiries, I denied that I was the owner of them; they had served mypurpose, and I was content to let well alone. 

The blacks were very bad, and continually worrying the men we hadshepherding. One of these was rather daft. One night the rams did notreturn. I got on their tracks the next day and brought them to camp, butthere was no sign of the shepherd. Two evenings after we were surprisedto see a couple of Myalls bringing in the lost man. We gave the blackssome tucker, and they left, but not before the shepherd, raising hishat, said to them, "I thank you, gentlemen, most sincerely. " Hiseccentric manner had doubtless saved his life, as the coloured racesgenerally appear to respect a demented person. 

I had a very bad attack of fever and ague, and managed to ride intoClermont, where I was treated by a chemist named Mackintosh, who kindlyallowed me to stay at his house. I shall never forget the kindness ofhim and his wife in pulling me through. Carruthers in the meantime hadtaken the sheep back to a creek which is still known as "Corfield'sCreek. " There the lambing took place. 

We next moved down to Balgourlie Station, still on Mistake Creek, wherewe had an early shearing, and left the wool to be taken by carriers toBowen. 

I now had my first experience of what was called in those days, "Belyando Spew. " Everything one ate came back again and no one seemed toknow of an antidote to what appeared to be a summer sickness. The gidyaaround seemed to accentuate the complaint, until I became a walkingskeleton. 

In the meantime we received word that my uncle had purchased CliftonStation from Marsh and Webster, of Mackay. 

This country was situated on a billabong 12 miles from Canobie, whereEdward Palmer, as I have previously mentioned, had settled down. 

The travelling away from the gidya scrubs down the Belyando River soondispelled all signs of the sickness. 

Previous to leaving Balgourlie Station we had lost a mob of horses, andon our arrival at Mount McConnell Station, the two men who had beendespatched to look for them, returned without success. Carruthers thensent me back with an Indian named "Balooche Knight" to make a search. Wehad a riding horse each, and a pack horse to carry our blankets, tucker, etc. After scouring all the scrubs on Mistake Creek, we arrived atLanark Downs Station, where a traveller informed me he had seen a numberof horses at Miclere Creek, 17 miles on the road to Copperfield. Myoptimism suggested I should ask the owner of Lanark Downs to lend me afresh horse. He did so, and I rode away one morning, returning the sameevening with the whole of the 17 horses we had lost. I had now to travelover one hundred miles to where I had left the sheep, which were stillcontinuing their journey. It was a most enjoyable ride with only onedrawback. The Indian's blankets and mine being together, I had gathereda lively community in my head. Procuring a small tooth-comb at away-side place, I commenced operations, with the result that soon I hadquite a colony on a newspaper in front of me. With the aid of tobaccowater, I finally succeeded in driving the pests away. 

In following down the Belyando River, I proved my expertness as atracker by recognising the track of a bullock crossing the road. I didnot know the beast had been lost, but the peculiarity of the track, caused by the hind feet touching the ground ahead of the fore feet, ledme to follow the tracks through a scrub, and there I found him camped. We had over 60 miles to overtake the sheep, and as he could not keep upwith the horses, I had to leave him. 

We had passed St. Ann's and Mt. McConnell's Stations where LieutenantFred Murray was stationed with his black trackers. Proceeding up theCape River, we overtook the sheep at Natal Downs, then owned by Wm. Kellett. We left the Cape River here, and followed Amelia Creek througha lot of spinifex country. 

On the third camp, in my early morning watch, I noticed several of thesheep jumping. At daylight we found about 60 lying dead on the ground. We learnt that they had been eating the poison bush which aboundsthroughout what is designated as the "Desert Country. "

The leaf of this bush is shaped like an inverted heart, and in colour isa very bright green. The flower resembles a pea blossom, and when inbloom the bush is most deadly to all stock. This experience taught us tobe more careful, and in one place we cut a track through five miles ofit for the sheep to pass. 

When we reached Torren's Creek, we saw a water-hole containing the bonesof some 10, 000 sheep which had perished from the same cause. They were aportion of 20, 000, which, we were informed, were in charge of a Mr. Halloran, who had preceded us for the Flinders, and owned by a Mr. Alexander. 

We afterwards passed a green flat, quite dry, but in the wet seasoncovered with water, called "Billy Webb's Lake. "

I was suffering from a severe attack of sandy blight in both eyes, sohad to ride a horse which was tied to the bullock dray. I was_hors-de-combat_ for over a week. Not having any eye-water, the onlyrelief I could get was cold tea leaves at night. Both eyes were soswollen that I was completely blind. Fortunately, we met the McKinlayexpedition returning from an unsuccessful search after Leichhardt. Thedoctor gave me a bottle of his eye-water, which he informed me containedsome nitrate of silver; this he instructed me how to use, and I soonregained my eye-sight, but the eyes continued very weak. 

Shortly afterwards we met some travellers, and enquired how far it wasto the jump-up--meaning the descent from the plateau to the levelcountry at the head of the Flinders. They replied, "in two miles youwill be amongst the roly-poly. "

These we found were not stones, as we thought, but dry stumps of a weedwhich grows on the open downs in the shape of a ball. The strongtrade-winds blow the plant away from its roots, and send it careeringover the downs, jumping for yards, and high in the air, frighteningone's horse when it gets between his hind legs, giving him theimpression that he had slept, and dreamt he was young again. 

We passed Hughenden Station, which had just been taken over by Mr. Robert Gray from Mr. Ernest Henry, and camped the sheep where the townof Hughenden now stands. 

We then had a long stage of fifteen miles to the bend of the riverwithout water. The remainder of our trip down the river was uneventful. We passed Telemon (Stewart's), Marathon (then owned by Carson), RichmondDowns (Bundock and Hayes), Lara (Donkin Brothers), and Canobie (EdwardPalmer). 

At Clifton, our destination, there was a fine water-hole two and a-halfmiles long, trees on the banks were crowded with cockatoos, corellas, with galahs in flocks on the plains. 

Work soon commenced in earnest, and progress made, in building a smallhouse, sheep yards, and the necessary improvements for a sheep station. The country consisted of plains, with patches of scrub between, in whichthere was abundance of salt-bush, all carrying good feed for the sheep. 

CHAPTER III. 

Mr. Carruthers' agreement to take charge of the sheep until they arrivedat their destination having expired, my uncle wrote me to take over thestation, and advised that if I remained in charge, he would increase mysalary to £200 per year. As Carruthers was anxious to return to hisstation, I accepted the former, but replied that unless the pay formanaging was increased to £300 per year, to send someone at once to takemy place. 

In the meantime, the blacks had come into Canobie at night, and attackedthree men who were camped on the river, within sight of the station. They killed two, and the third was left for dead. He was found to bealive, and afterwards recovered from the severe battering he received. 

Palmer sent word asking me to send all the men I could spare to comeover to assist in hunting the murderers. I did so, Carruthers takingcharge of the armed party. 

A few days previous to this occurrence I had visited an out-station tocount the sheep, taking a man with me to help in repairing the yard. 

On returning after dark we passed a billabong, from which a very strongstench, as if from decomposed vegetable matter, arose. The followingmorning we both felt unwell, and vomited a good deal. The man with mewas much older than I, and succumbed to the sickness in nine days. 

After the party had left for Canobie, I was completely prostrated, andhad no medicine on hand except Epsom salts. During the night we (thecook, a new-chum Cockney, and myself) heard voices down at thewater-hole, which we took as from a party of travelling Chinamen. Inthe morning we found that, some of the blacks who were implicated in themurder had doubled back, and had taken away every article of iron theycould find, our camp oven included, and my clothes, which had just beenwashed. This so preyed on my mind that when the party returned, theyfound me delirious. 

Mr. Carruthers, seeing the helpless state I was in, and the condition ofaffairs generally, engaged Mr. Reg. Uhr to take charge on my behalf, whilst he took me down to Burketown, distant 155 miles, in a cart, withtwo horses. The road was almost deserted, and the blacks were very bad. Carruthers would boil his billy at water-holes in the afternoon, and goout to the centre of the plains to camp, with no bells on the horses. Asfor myself, I was sick and weak. Not being able to eat damper or meat, Iwas almost starved, lost all vitality, and cared little whether Isurvived the trip or not. We had to cross the "Plains of Promise. " Theseconsisted of an uninterrupted run of about 30 miles of devil-devilcountry. It was a succession of small gutters and mounds, which, to asick man in a cart without springs, was intolerable. We arrived atBurketown about November, 1866, and the public house was the only placein which I could get accommodation. There I suffered all the nightlynoises incidental to a bush shanty. 

Burketown at this time was an almost new settlement, with a populationof about 50 whites, but the number of graves of those who died withinits short life from fever was more than twice as many, and increasingdaily. 

The Burketown fever was more virulent than any other I had hitherto orsince come in contact with, and was supposed to be a kind of yellow jackfever, introduced by some vessel from Eastern countries. 

The danger of a second introduction of the same, or perhaps worse, epidemic does not appear in these days to be realised in Australia. 

There was no doctor in the town, but a chemist named Peacock waspractising as one. Just as I arrived, Captain Cadell, in the old"Eagle, " arrived to send despatches of his explorations of the rivers onthe west coast of the Gulf of Carpentaria, where the party had seennumerous herds of buffaloes. 

Mr. Carruthers heard that there was a doctor with the expedition, and onhis interviewing him, the latter said he would see me, provided I paidthe fee to the resident doctor. This professional etiquette was agreedto. The doctor took great pains in diagnosing my case, which he calledsomething between a gastric and jungle fever, and prescribed five grainsof calomel every night. This I found later to have loosened my teeth, and 15 grains of quinine daily seriously affected my hearing. The localchemist was then sent for. He felt my pulse, looked at my tongue, andprescribed a box of Holloway's pills. I paid him his fee of one guinea, but almost needless to say which advice I followed. 

I remained in Burketown about a fortnight, slowly recovering. Beforeleaving I purchased a microscope which was for sale, and presented it tothe doctor of the expedition with sincere thanks for saving my life. During the time I was in Burketown, Mr. Sharkey, Lands Commissioner, came over from Sweers Island, and offered to submit my name for theCommission of Peace, and said Mr. Landsborough, the Police Magistrate, would swear me in. I declined the honour. 

When returning to Clifton Station we spent a week at Floraville Station, on the Leichhardt River. Here I purchased stores for the station fromMr. Borthwick, who was managing for Mr. J. G. Macdonald. At this stationthere was a water-hole 25 miles long, and in bathing one would seecrocodiles basking on the rocks and bank, but they appeared to beharmless. At the lower end of this hole there was a perpendicular dropof over 40 feet, with a very deep hole at the foot, infested by sharksand alligators. The tides came to this point. 

We called at Donor's Hill Station, where I first made the acquaintanceof the Brodie brothers, one of whom afterwards managed Nive Downs for anumber of years. The other--his twin brother--died in New South Walesnot long since, after a long and successful business career. At thisplace I visited a cave containing many skulls of blacks, who had beendispersed by the whites, after committing a series of depredations inthe district. I was told the cave was so dark that matches were lightedto allow of aim being taken at the blacks during the dispersal. 

In later years, I have often thought what fortunes might have been won, or lost, or the settlement of Western Queensland been advanced by years, had the early seekers for pastoral country but known what was west ofthe so-called desert country, and south of the Flinders. This could onlybe learnt by forcing a way through the desert to the west instead ofskirting its edge and going north. As it was, we, in following theFlinders down, were traversing some of the finest sheep country in theworld, and did not realise there were millions of acres lying to thesouth, unknown, unowned. Ultimately, settlement of the west was affectedmore from Rockhampton than from northern ports; extending as it did fromSpringsure towards Tambo, Blackall, and thence north and north-west. 

It seems, however, the irony of fate that Townsville, which did littleor nothing towards the exploration or development of the country southfrom the Flinders, has obtained the trade of that portion of Queensland. But this is anticipating. 

Mr. J. F. Barry, who first took up the country on the head of theWestern River, was laughed at by residents of Blackall, when he rode into have his application registered, and described the country. So thatit might be recorded that his statements as to its quality would provecorrect, he called the country "Vindex, " by which it is now known as oneof the finest sheep properties in Queensland. 

But let me quote from "_The Polar and Tropical Worlds_, " written by twoscientists, one apparently a German, the other designated "ScientificEditor of the American Cyclopedia. " The book was published in 1877, eleven years or more after the north-western country was becomingoccupied. 

In alluding to the great deserts of the world, these authoritiessay:--"Perhaps the most absolute desert tract on the face of the globeis that which occupies the interior of the great island, or as it maynot improperly be styled, 'Continent of Australia. '

"The island has an area of something more than 3, 000, 000 of squaremiles, nearly equal in extent to Europe. 

"For the greater part of its circumference, it is bounded by acontinuous range of mountains or highlands, nowhere rising to agreat height, and for long distances, consisting of plateaus ortablelands. 

"There is, however, a continuous range of water-shed, which isnever broken through, and which never recedes any great distancefrom the Coast. 

"The habitable portions of Australia are limited to the slopes ofthe mountains, and the narrow space between them and the sea. Theinterior, as far as is known, or as can be inferred from physicalgeography, is an immense depressed plain more hopelessly barren anduninhabitable than the great desert of Sahara. "

These authorities say more on this imaginary desert, but the quotationis sufficient to show that even scientists do not know everything, although one might believe that they did. 

I have not learnt that either Messrs. Landsborough or Phillips, who wereon the Diamantina in 1866, and crossed from that river over to theFlinders, commented on the quality of the country through which theytravelled, and I can only explain that its naturally waterless state upto early in the eighties prevented its value becoming known. 

During these years immense sums of money were spent in waterconservations by the Government of the day and Victorian investors, andin a large measure without meeting success. 

When I went to Townsville in 1868, the principal, and also the firstcarrier there, was a man named Courtney, who owned eight bullock teams. He had been taking stores to the different stations on the Flinders asthat country was opened up. In conversation one day, he informed me thatsome two or three years previously his bullocks had strayed many milesacross the downs from Richmond Downs. Seeing the beautiful sheep countrystill extending to the south, he determined to explore it to learn ifthere were any good water courses. Taking a pack horse with rations, hestarted on a S. W. Course until he found a large river running in asoutherly direction. A few miles further north the river runs from westto east. He marked a tree with his initial C. , and this was found longafterwards to be on a water-hole between Kynuna and Dagworth. Heexpected to realise money on his exploration, but the Diamantina countrywas, as I have previously remarked, occupied by people coming from theCentral district. The route from Townsville through long stretches ofdry country was out of the running. 

In after years Courtney took to drink. Finally, after one of his bouts, on leaving Normanton in an intoxicated condition, he camped at awater-hole 10 miles out. His clothes were found, but not the body. Itwas supposed that he had gone in for a swim, and that alligators, whichswarm in these holes, had taken him. I could not learn if he had givenany information as to the country, but I have no reason to doubt hisstatements. 

After my return to Clifton, I was kept busy preparing for lambing. Thisdid not turn out very successful. The hot, scorching sun so scalded thebacks of the lambs, that the growth of wool was greatly retarded. 

After a month's hard work, I found myself so weak and depressed from thefever that I decided to return to England. In the meantime, Carruthershad left for his station on the Auburn River. 

I was relieved in mind, by a letter from my uncle, who informed me thatmy request for a salary of £300 a year was exorbitant, and that he wassending a Mr. Hawkes to take the station over from me. 

Soon after I was pleased to welcome this gentleman, and left for insidewith a young fellow named Carolan, who had been working on Canobie. Myuncle visited Clifton late in 1867, and decided to have the sheep boileddown at the works owned by Mr. Harry Edkins, on the Albert River. 

During his stay at Burketown he became the guest of Mr. Surveyor Sharkeyon Sweers Island, and met Miss Huey, sister of Mrs. Edkins, late ofMount Cornish Station, who became the second Mrs. Corfield. His firstwife was a Miss Murray, sister of the highly-respected PoliceMagistrate, who died in Brisbane a few years ago, and also of the lateInspector Fred Murray. Her death on Teebar, in 1853, so affected myuncle that he sold the property for a nominal sum to his head stockman, John Eaton. He then took up and formed Gigoomgan, which he soon aftersold to Anderson and Leslie. He afterwards bought Stanton Harcourt fromW. H. Walsh, of Degilbo Station. There I joined him in 1862. 

CHAPTER IV. 

After handing the station over to Mr. Hawkes, I went to Canobie tomuster my horses, which were running on the Williams River, and thencetravelled eastward in company with Carolan. 

On arrival at the Punch Bowl, on the Flinders River, we heard that therewas a hundred mile dry stage ahead, so decided to camp. 

One afternoon, Mr. Roland Edkins, later so long manager of MountCornish, and his wife, travelling on their honeymoon, drove up and askedif we had any meat we could spare. I informed him we had none, but thatif he had a gun, and lent it to me, I would get some. A mob of cattlehad been to the water-hole earlier in the day. Armed with his gun Ifollowed the cattle and shot a clean-skin, which we dressed, and jerkedin the sun, not having salt. The supply of meat was sufficient for allour needs. Mr. Edkins informed us that thunderstorms had fallen up theriver, so we made a start. While camping in the bed of the river onenight the water came down on us rather suddenly. We managed to get ourbelongings up the bank before they became wet. 

In those days thunderstorms seemed to be more prevalent during Novemberthan in later years. Before we reached Telemon, the river was a banker, flooding the plains, and compelling us one night to camp on an ant bed, which was the only dry spot we could find. Fortunately, the ants werenot of the bulldog breed. 

We arrived at Telemon about noon of a sweltering hot day, and found Mr. Stewart, the owner, lying on his bunk with a tallow cask in closeproximity, the grease oozing out on to his bed. He invited us to havesome dinner, and we gladly availed ourselves of the invitation. Learningthat we were bound for the coast, he advised us to take the short cut upBett's Gorge. Mr. Stewart had been adjutant of the Cameron Highlandersduring the Crimean War, and was then considered to be the smartestofficer in the regiment. When he came to Australia, and took up the runsof Southwick and Telemon, he altered so much that he became known as"Greasy Stewart. " When spoken to about it, he would say, "When you areamongst savages, do as savages do. " Otherwise he was in manners andconduct a gentleman, and a delightful conversationalist. When visitingSydney he was considered to be a remarkably well-dressed man. Heafterwards became the possessor of a large estate in Scotland, where hedied. 

We found the creek running through Bett's Gorge a banker, and had toswim 23 crossings in one day. Being so often in the water, we did nottrouble to dress, consequently the sun played havoc with our bodies. 

All the country for miles around being of a basaltic nature, our horsesbecame very footsore, and when we reached Lolworth Station we asked Mr. Frank Hann, the manager, if he would allow us to spell them. Heconsented, and invited us to the house. We stayed there about threeweeks, assisting him at mustering, and branding the cattle. 

The Cape River diggings had just broken out, and as I was now gettingstronger--the fever was going off gradually--I decided to remain inAustralia, and try my hand at gold digging. 

Both Carolan and myself were novices at the game, especially in puttingdown a shaft. We decided to go up on a spinifex ridge, out of sight, tosink, what turned out to be a three-cornered shaft, and so gainexperience. This we bottomed at 100 feet, obtaining good specimens ofshotty gold. Mr. Robert Christison, owner of Lammermoor Station, and Mr. Richard Anning, from either Cargoon or Reedy Springs Stations (I forgetwhich), arrived with two horses and a dray. They camped close to us, andlike ourselves, intended trying their luck at gold digging. 

Whilst working at this, one Sunday evening, we overheard some Chinamenspeaking of a flat they were going to in the morning. We decided towatch, and follow them. At daylight they made a rush to peg out claims;we did likewise, and obtained one well placed as to water. Thedifficulty then was how to work both claims, and it was decided Carolanshould get a mate and go on with the deep sinking on which we wereworking. I was to work the shallow one myself. Our first claim turnedout to be on the edge of rich gold-bearing country, which was good whileit lasted, but soon petered out. The surrounding claims turned out veryrich, and got the name of the "Deep Lead. "

In the meantime I had bottomed my shaft at eleven feet. It turned out tobe a very wet one, so I had to work without my shirt. When I took thefirst dish down to wash, I noticed a number of men taking great interestin it, especially when the panning-out showed two dwts. Of shotty goldin the dish. The men engaged me in conversation. When I returned to myclaim, I found my pegs thrown away and fresh ones surrounding the shaftin place of them. I strongly demurred to this, but without avail, untila party of men who were our camp neighbours came over and took my part. Through them I recovered my claim without more than wordy warfare. Afterdoing well out of the claim I found I could not continue it without amate. Having to throw the wash-dirt eleven feet, a lot of the pebbles init would come back on and bruise my naked body. 

Carolan and his mate determined to sink another shaft in the deepsinking to hit the lead again. We had a consultation, and decided Ishould take in as partner an old miner known as "Greasy Bill, " whopossessed a horse and cart, cradles, and all the plant required forshallow sinking. 

For the first month we were getting as much as an ounce and a-half tothe load of sixty buckets. As I puddled the wash-dirt he cradled it, andconsequently was in possession of the gold bag which held the proceedsfrom the cradle. Although I could detect no difference in the wash-dirt, the cradling results dwindled down by degrees to a quarter ounce perload. As this did not pay our tucker bill, my mate suggested we shouldsink another shaft, which we bottomed, and it turned out with similarresults. Carolan had now sunk his second shaft with no payable results, and as I was dissatisfied with the result of my new venture, we bothdecided to go prospecting. This we did, dry-blowing in the ranges withno payable results. 

I afterwards met "Greasy Bill" at the Cape township, when he informed methat after I had left he had struck it rich in both claims. Others toldme he had boasted he had got five hundred pounds out of the claim byabstracting the gold from the bag when I was not looking, and that theclaim I pegged out was good throughout. 

Our experiences as diggers had completely disgusted Carolan and me, soon hearing that carriage of loading to the gold field was very high, wedetermined to start as carriers. 

I heard that a Mr. Mytton, of Oak Park Station, had a team of bullocksfor sale, and having some money in the Savings Bank at ----, we decidedto travel to Oak Park to investigate. 

On reaching Craigie Station, on the Clarke River, to enquire the way, Mr. Saunders, the owner, informed us that he had seven bullocks and adray for sale for £120, but I wished to purchase a full team of 12 or16, such as Mr. Mytton had at Oak Park, and decided to go there. Mr. Saunders kindly lent us a Snider rifle for protection, as the blackswere bad through the ranges, between his station and Mytton's. 

[Illustration: FITZMAURICE, CORFIELD, AND TOM FOX. (Taken in 1880). ]

We camped the first night at the Broken River, a weird looking place. This was about May, 1868, and the nights being very cold we wouldplace one blanket under and have the other over us, with our heads onthe saddle, and the rifle between us. During the night I was awakened bymy saddle being pulled from my head. I immediately caught the rifle, andturning around saw a native dog dragging my saddle by one of the straps. Without waking my mate, who was a man six feet in height, I fired----. Carolan made one leap, taking the blanket with him, saying he was shot. This frightened me also. However, the howling of the dog who hadapparently received the bullet through his body, and full explanationsrestored calm and a feeling of safety. In the morning we tracked the dogto the water-hole, where we found him dead. 

On arrival at Oak Park, without further adventures, I found Mr. Myttonhad leased his team of bullocks and waggon to a man named Jack Howell, who contemplated carrying. The latter was credited with beingdouble-jointed, and I believe it. He was the strongest man I ever met. He afterwards married the widow of Jimmy Morrell, who had lived forseventeen years with the blacks in the Cleveland Bay district. 

It is related that when he saw a white man after this length of time, Morrell jumped on a stock-yard fence, and called out, "Don't shoot, I'ma British object. " The Government gave him a position in the Customs inBowen, where he died a few years afterwards. 

I later on attended Jack Howell's wedding. It was held in a house at thefoot of Castle Hill, in Townsville. Some, uninvited, came up totin-kettle the newly-married couple, but on Jack putting in anappearance they showed discretion and scampered away, leaving one oftheir mates hung up on a clothes line. 

During our stay of three days at Oak Park, we received great kindness, which led to a life-long friendship with Edward Mytton. Carolan and Ireturned to Craigie Station to give back the borrowed rifle. I thendecided to purchase the seven bullocks and dray, giving Saunders acheque for the price mentioned. I had to muster the bullocks myself, finding four of them the second day. Mr. Saunders said he would go outto find the remainder, as he knew where they were running. We bothstarted, but in different directions. I found the tracks, and succeededin bringing the bullocks to the yard, but Mr. Saunders did not turn upuntil the next evening, having been bushed on his own run. The bullockswere very fat, and had no leaders amongst them, so Mr. Saunders gave mea hand by leading my horse and driving the spare bullock. At everywater-hole we came near these brutes would rush in, and I had to go, with my clothes on, after them. Carolan had left me at Craigie, and goneon to a public house at Nulla-Nulla, on the main Flinders road fromTownsville. He bought in shares with a teamster, who had two teams, andas there was good grass and water, there he decided to camp. Here I met"Black Jack, " who said he was the first white man to cross the Burdekin. Carolan having come out to give me a hand, Mr. Saunders returned toCraigie. 

There were several carriers camped at Nulla, amongst them being a mannamed James Wilson, from whom I bought five bullocks. One of these was agood near-side leader, for which I was grateful. From that time Wilsonand I became travelling mates. We loaded in Townsville for the CapeRiver diggings at twenty pounds per ton. 

As my additional bullocks allowed me to put on three tons, the sixtypounds for carriage enabled me to pay for the bullocks and supplies forthe trip. When I returned to Townsville I met Mr. Saunders, who had soldme the bullocks. He informed me that my cheque for payment had beendishonoured, marked "no account. " This news was a staggerer. I explainedthat I had an account in the Government Savings Bank at ----, and thatbefore I left the Cloncurry, I had sent my pass book and a receiptedorder to the Savings Bank officer, asking him to withdraw the money andplace it to my credit in the local branch of the A. J. S. Bank. Also thatI had advised the bank of the prospective remittance, and following myrequest, had received a cheque book. Mr. Saunders was good enough toaccept my explanation, and agreed to remain in Townsville while Iproceeded to ----. I had very little money, so took a steerage passage inthe old "Tinonee, " which was conveying a large number of disappointeddiggers returning to New Zealand. It was a rough and uncomfortable trip. One had to stand at the door and snap the food as it was carried to thetable, not to do so meant going without. On arriving at ----, I put up ata boarding house, which was far from being first class. I called on thePostmaster, and told him my name. When he heard it he became very pale, and agitated, and showed great uneasiness. He invited me into hisoffice, where I stated my business, and added that if my money was notforthcoming at once I would report him. He then told me that he was solong without hearing of me, that he was confirmed in believing therumour of my death on the way in, and that he had invested the money insome land, which gave promise of soon rising in value. I gave him untilthe next boat was leaving for Townsville, which would be in four days, to repay the money. I also insisted upon being refunded my expenses, anda return saloon fare from Townsville to ---- and back. He gladly agreedto my terms, and I promised not to proceed further. I had a splendidtrip back per saloon. I met Mr. Saunders, who was pleased that I hadrecovered the money, and remarked, "I thought you had an honest face, "etc. He added that he would give me preference for loading to thestation. 

This affair was brought back forcibly to my memory owing to the matterhaving been mentioned not long since by a friend of later years, who, inhis capacity as a Government officer, happened to be stationed in thistown some 30 years ago. He told me of a property bought by thePostmaster of the place, upon which there was a fine orchard. This waslooked after by a German of gigantic stature, who patrolled the orchardwith a loaded shot gun. He said that an old resident of the place hadtold him that the property had been bought with money drawn from theGovernment Savings Bank by a man out in the Gulf country, who wasreported to have died on the road down, but who turned up some monthsafterwards, and claimed his money. I did not at any time speak of thematter, and can only conclude that the Postmaster raised the money inthe town, and gave the information to the lender. It was peculiar thatmy friend, fifty years afterwards, should mention a matter in which Iwas so concerned and without having any previous knowledge that I wasthe reported dead man. 

The late Hon. B. Fahey, M. L. C. , was then second officer of Customs inTownsville. He allowed me to see the ship's manifests of cargo arriving. I was thus enabled to apply beforehand for loading to these merchantswho would be receiving consignments. This was a great help to mymate--Wilson--and myself to obtain loading quickly. 

When carrying became slack, Mr. Marsh, of Webster and Marsh, of Mackay, arrived in Townsville, and being an old school-fellow of mine, said hewould send up two loads from Mackay to keep me going. 

About this time (1869), I made the acquaintance of Messrs. Watson Bros. , of Townsville, who were very kind to me, inviting me to their house tospend the evenings when in the Bay (as Townsville was then generallyspoken of). They had two sisters, one of whom afterwards married myfriend Edward Mytton, and the other, Mr. Page, in after years ofWandovale Station. They were a cultured family, and the time I spentwith them reminded me of home life more than anything I had thenexperienced since I left England. 

On my last trip to the Cape diggings, Wilson and I had returned as faras Homestead, when Bob Watson rode up, and enquired for what we wouldtake loading to the Gilbert River. We knew this place to be somewherebeyond Oak Park, and we asked for £30 per ton. This was agreed to, withthe proviso that the teams were to be loaded at night on the Lower Cape. At the time the township was honeycombed with shafts, and we had manymisadventures driving our teams in the dark. Watson explained the reasonfor our loading at night was that the Gilbert diggings had only justbeen reported, and his firm wished to get supplies on the ground earlyto obtain high prices. We were to travel _via_ the Upper Cape, Lolworth, Craigie, Wandovale, Junction Creek. Lyndhurst, and Oak Park, etc. 

Long before we reached the latter place droves of people of both sexes, in all sorts of vehicles, on horse back, and afoot, passed us. The newshad quickly spread that good gold had been found on the Gilbert. 

This move of the Watson's was rather smart. They had a quantity ofdamaged flour to get rid of. We had to purchase our rations from them. The only way in which we could use the flour was to make it into johnnycakes, and eat them hot. Flour was selling at 3/- for half-a-pint, andthe damaged flour soon found ready customers at fancy prices. 

The township consisted of tents, but as the storekeepers requiredsomething more substantial than calico, I sold my tarpaulin for a goodprice, and made contracts to supply bark at 5/- per sheet. We engaged mento strip the bark. This work kept us both busy hauling with our teams, and lasted until the wants of the township were fully supplied. 

We then started on our 350-mile journey back to Townsville, and reachedthere about the end of September. Mr. Mytton arranged for me to load forhim, and I obtained a load for my mate for Lyndhurst, the stationadjoining. 

This station was managed by a Mr. Smith from the Clarence River. Forsome reason, I could not learn how, he was known as "Gentle J----. " Hewas a remarkably small man, but was noted as being a very plucky one. His store was stuck-up by a man called "Waddy Mundoo-i, " from hishaving a wooden leg. Smith fought and knocked him out, afterwards givinghim help to get along the road. We spent about a fortnight in Townsvillehaving repairs made to the drays, etc. , and we started on our returnjourney to Oak Park on the 14th of November, 1869, making as much hasteas possible before the wet season set in. This, however, caught us atthe Broken River, where we had to camp for over nine weeks. We werejoined here by many other teams loaded for the Gilbert. 

With us we had an old ship's carpenter, who helped to make a canoe froma currajong tree. On the stern he attached a board, on which was painted"Cleopatra, Glasgow. " This boat proved very useful in ferrying over thelarge number of footmen arriving daily, and saving our rations, as alltravellers expected to be fed without payment. One day we ferriedInspector Clohesy and his troopers across the river, which at the timewas running very high. After a great deal of difficulty and some danger, we landed them and 2, 000 ounces of gold in safety. Before the river wascrossable for teams, I cut my name on a tree, bearing date 1870, which Iagain saw many years later. On arrival, we were warmly welcomed at thestation. 

When in Townsville I had asked Fitzmaurice, who had reached there fromPeak Downs and was going to Sydney for a spell, to get a waggon made forme below. I now decided to turn out my bullocks at Oak Park to spell, and take on stock riding and droving fat bullocks into the diggings, where Mr. Mytton, having taken a partner named John Childs to look afterthe station during his absence, had opened a shop, and was butcheringhimself. Mr. Childs was married and had one little girl, named Beatrice, now married to one of our greatest sheep-owners. 

Amongst those who camped a night at the Broken River was a youngnew-chum Irishman, who asked if we knew a man in "Australia" called TomRipley. We replied "Yes, he is now at the Gilbert with his teams. " Hesaid, "I am his brother; he has bullock cars, hasn't he?" This remark, simple as it was, a long standing joke among the carriers. 

In conversation we gleaned that he had left Ireland on the same day thatwe had left Townsville, had crossed the ocean, and was passing us boundfor nearly the same destination as ourselves. 

As two hundred and fifty miles is to thirteen thousand, so was the speedof bullock teams attempting travelling during the wet season to that ofa sailing ship from the foggy seas. 

CHAPTER V. 

My mate, Jim Wilson, returned to Townsville after delivering his load atLyndhurst. Mr. Mytton had purchased Junction Creek Station (afterwardscalled Wandovale), from Mr. Cudmore, and had left the Gilbert to takedelivery, intending afterwards to go on to Townsville to be married toMiss Watson. As the station was short-handed, and Mr. Mytton wished tomake some alterations to prepare for his bride, he asked me if I wouldstay and use my team to bring in the timber, and also to assist Childswith the cattle. I consented to remain for a couple of months. Duringthis time the black boys on the station bolted, taking with them MrsChilds' gin, and my black boy. A carpenter named Jack Barker and myselfstarted with three horses in pursuit, eventually finding the absconderswhere the Woolgar diggings now are. On our return we ran out of rations, and lived on iguanas, snakes, opossums, etc. Childs induced me to takecharge of a mob of bullocks, and drove them to Wandovale, where Mr. AndMrs. Mytton were now living. 

After delivering the bullocks at Wandovale, I returned to Oak Park tomuster my bullocks and horses, and found a bay mare missing. Althoughassisted by the stockmen, we failed to find her. I then determined tostart for Townsville, and again take up carrying. When I reachedWandovale on my way down, I camped at the station. Returning fromputting my bullocks on grass, I saw a number of Chinamen with packhorses preparing to camp at the creek. One of their horses attracted myattention, so I rode over and recognised my mare. I rode on, and watchedthe direction in which the Chinamen hobbled their horses. Mr. Mytton andI then decided that I should go out before daybreak to bring the marein. He was to be at the slip rails to allow the animal to be driven intothe paddock. In the dark of the early morning I had a difficulty inlocating the animal amongst so many horses. Eventually, I found her, butI could not catch her. At daybreak I saw she was long hobbled, andgetting near enough, struck her with the bridle, I turned her towardsthe station. The Chinamen were just starting out for their horses, andseeing me, tried to cut me off, and then ensued a race for the sliprails. I had half-a-mile to go to reach the paddock; however, putting ona spurt, I succeeded in reaching the slip rails first, hunting the marethrough them, but I was completely winded. In response to the Chinamen's"Wha for, " Mr. Mytton said he was a Justice of the Peace, and dared themto interfere with anything on his property. It ended by my giving myname and address, after stating that the mare was my property, and hadbeen stolen from Oak Park Station. 

Some time afterwards Inspector Clohesy, who was in charge of the policeon the Gilbert, informed me that the Chinamen had come to him forredress, but he remembered how I had helped him and his escort acrossthe Broken River, and assured them that he knew I would not have takensuch action unless the mare was my property. The matter ended, and Ifound out afterwards the mare had been stolen and sold to the Chinamen. 

Mention of Inspector Clohesy reminds me that he was a remarkablepersonality, now-a-days not so common--tall, slight and wiry, he couldsit a horse as well as the best of riders and hold his own with men ofall sorts. Endowed with quick insight into the character of men who werein many instances indifferent to law, he exercised a restraininginfluence without in any way neglecting his duty as a police officer. His presence and word alone frequently calmed excited diggers in a waythat commanded their respect and admiration. When the diggers broke intorioting at Charters Towers, the tact, patience and courage of Clohesywas of more use and value than a posse of police. Many a time I haveheard a witty remark, or a pithy Irish phrase from him, turn a likelydisturbance into a pleasant laughing meeting. Wherever he controlled, hekept things in order without his hand being felt. When he died about1879, Queensland lost a good officer, and many a northern pioneer a truefriend. 

When I reached Townsville I procured a load for Ravenswood diggings, which had just been opened. I went to load my new waggon at Clifton andAplin's store, accompanied by a man named Tom Hobbs, who was alsoloading at the same place, and for the same destination. When I drove myteam and new waggon from Sydney through the streets toward the GermanGardens--since the war, Belgium Gardens--where we were camped, I noticedevery one laughing as I went by. After crossing the ridge where theAnglican Cathedral now stands, I went around to the off side, and theresaw that some wag, while I was loading, had obliterated a letter on thename of my waggon, which Fitzmaurice had christened the "TownsvilleLass. " Striking the "L" out gave it a different name. I quickly procureda paint brush and renewed the name as it should be. 

At that time the road to Ravenswood was lined with vehicles andpedestrians, making their way to the new field. Cobb and Co. Wererunning a coach for mails and passengers, driven by Mick Brady, whoafterwards was well and favourably known on the very bad road fromCooktown to Maytown. After making a quick trip we returned, and loadedagain for the Gilbert diggings. 

In going up Thornton's Gap, on the coast range, I had the misfortune tolose the top of my third finger on my right hand. We had 36 bullocks onthe waggon, and a faulty chain breaking, only six bullocks were left tohold the waggon. The near side ones being lazy, allowed the waggon todrift down towards the steep descent of 500 feet to the bottom. I ranwith a piece of heavy log to prevent a smash, but the wheels caught thelog before I could release my hand, and completely crushed the top ofmy finger until the bone protruded. That night I had to lay with myfinger in hot water to relieve the pain. The next day I started atdaylight for Townsville, had the finger dressed by the doctor, andreturned to the teams the same day, having ridden a distance of 60miles. I was unable to yoke my team, but this my mate, Tom Hobbs, kindlydid for me. I was, however, able to drive the team the 350 miles to theGilbert. On returning from there, I had a bad attack of fever and ague, which compelled me to ride on to Townsville for medical advice, havingvarious difficulties on the way down. I left my black boy to assist mymate to bring down the two teams, by hitching my waggon behind his, andyoking up sufficient bullocks drafted from each team to draw them. 

My mate, Tom Hobbs, was a "white man, " which means a lot, but ratherbackward as regards education. In leisure moments I would assist him inreading, writing, etc. Before he left the Bay on this trip, he hadbecome engaged to a young lady in the town, and enlisted my services towrite his letters for him. I remember the last I wrote before leavinghim contained the following:--

 But if all goes well on my return, We'll give the Parson some trouble, To write the license for friends to learn We're converted from single to double. 

In a few weeks after reaching Townsville, under the doctor's care, Iregained my usual good health, and found Tom's fiancee and delivered themessages which he had entrusted me with. The wet season of 1871 had setin, and Tom was stuck at the Burdekin River with the teams, so Iconcocted the following rhyme to send him as if they came from hislady-love:--

 Oh! Tom Hobbs, dear Tom, why don't you come back To redeem the dear promise you gave unto me, When you started with loading on the Gilberton track To hail your return as my husband to be. 

 Oh! the days and the hours how slowly they pass, And for me, I fear, there are plenty in store, Since now there's abundance of water and grass, To tempt you to spell your poor bullocks the more. 

 But, dear Tom, do write me a line to say That your love is as fervent as ever it's been. If so, on your return we'll both name the day Which kind friends will finish with tins kerosene. 

 I pray my dear hopes are not born to be blighted, By the tide of misfortune in earth's dreary life, For you know, dear Tom, you have charms which delighted A young girl to be your dear loving wife. 

 And now, dearest Tom, with a squeeze and a kiss That would burst the staves of a six gallon barrel. I pray God to grant you health and heavenly bliss When united for ever to your loving E. Carrol. 

When I last visited Townsville in 1917, I called on Mrs. Hobbs, whoshowed me the original of the above, still in good preservation. 

Tom was a very shy man, and asked me if I could arrange for his marriageto be held by the Registrar at the Court House on a Sunday evening. ThisI did, the wedding party arriving at the Court House by different routesto avoid publicity. The Registrar had only a candle, which did not givesufficient light, so he asked if I could obtain a lamp. I went down thehill to Evans', afterwards Enright's, Tattersall Hotel, and borrowed alamp ostensibly to look for lost jewellery for a lady. Several loungers, doubting the reason given, followed me, with the result that at midnightTom's house was surrounded by uninvited guests, and I had to hand outsome bottles of brandy before they could be induced to leave. We keptthings up until daylight, when I rode back to my camp at Mount Louisa, six miles away. 

About this time the carriers were challenged by the Townsville cricketclub to a match, to be played on a ground prepared at the GermanGardens. A carrier named Billy Yates took his waggon, decorated withboughs and bush flowers, drawn by bullocks, to bring out the town team. The principal bowler for Townsville was L. F. Sachs, of the A. J. S. Bank. Ours were Charlie and Fred Hannaford. After a hard-fought game of twoinnings each, the carriers won, I having the honour of being top scorer. The particulars did not go into print, so I am unable to give thedetails, although I remember the happenings connected with and after thematch were interesting. 

I was loaded at Mount Louisa on my way to Ravenswood, when, during thenight a man wakened me, and asked if I could give him a drink. I gavehim a nip of rum from the jar. Shortly afterwards I noticed the smell ofburning, and on looking round saw a dray with a load of wool wellalight. I immediately raised the alarm, and the men from several otherteams who were camped there ran over, but all that we could save werethe bullock yokes. We then tipped the dray up, thinking the ropes hadbeen burnt through, and that the bales of wool would roll off, when wecould deal with them. This was not the case, and the wind gettingunderneath so fanned the flame that soon the wool was burning asfiercely as the wood. The police investigated the matter, and found thatthe man I gave the drink to had travelled down with this team, and had agrievance about the payment of his wages. The Police Magistratecommitted him to the Supreme Court for trial for arson. I was subpoenaedas principal witness, and had to ride back some 70 miles to giveevidence. The jury found the man guilty, and he was sentenced to twoyears' hard labour. As he was leaving the Court, in passing me, he said, "You have only two years to live, " but in this he did not prove a trueprophet. 

About this time I first made the acquaintance of the gentleman now knownas Sir Robert Philp. He has a reputation throughout this country, towhich, if I attempted to add anything would be simply gilding refinedgold. But in 1870 the name of Bob Philp, accountant for James Burns, wasthroughout North Queensland a synonym for business ability, integrityof character, and kindness of heart. This reputation has not been dimmedby the passing of years. It is something of a pleasure to know Sir Robt. Philp, but it is a matter of pride to have known Mr. Philp "Lang Syne, "when men of ability, character, and generosity were not rare ordifficult to find. 

I have alluded several times to "partners, " or "mates, " which was themore popular term. These partnerships were quite common amongst carriersand diggers in bygone days. It was simply chums, owning and sharingeverything in common, and without any agreement, written or otherwise. There were many such partnerships involving large sums of money andvaluable property which existed only on a complete trust in mates. 

Among others on the Gilbert and Etheridge, were the mateship of Steel, Hunt and O'Brien. There were several such partnerships on the Palmer, notably that of Duff, Edwards and Callaghan. Of the high characters andgenerosity of all these men many interesting stories could be told. Idoubt if their prototypes now exist. In my own case, in carrying and inbusiness, I carried on with partners for many years without anyagreement. The partnerships were based on mutual trust. When it was feltbetween the partners for some reason or other--generally a mere likingfor a change--that the partnership might end, a friendly squaring-upwould take place; each would go his own way and probably enter intopartnership with some other party. With the exception of the partner Ihad in a claim on the Cape goldfield, I found all my mates or partnersto be men in every sense of the term. 

I had a very good black boy, a little fellow of about 10 years of age, anative of Cooper's Creek, whom I called Billy. On one of my trips to theGilbert, when passing Dalrymple, Billy Marks, the store andhotel-keeper, presented me with a well-bred cattle pup and a gin case toput him in. This I placed on top of the load. We had six miles to goover very rough basalt country to our camp. That day I had yoked asteer for the first time, and I intended to hobble him at night. When wereached camp I told Billy to bring up a quiet bullock called Darling, and this I coupled to the steer, instructing the boy to hold thewhip-stick in front of the steer to attract his attention whilst Ihobbled him. I had just put the hobble on the off leg, and was preparingto put it on the other, when the steer gave a tremendous jump, and theold bullock knocked me on my back on the yokes lying on the ground. WhenI rose I looked at the boy to see if he was laughing, but he was quitedemure. I then saw the pup on the ground. He had caused my discomfitureby jumping on the steer's back, the box having broken open coming overthe stones. When I returned from putting the bullocks on the grass, Isaw my mate laughing, and to my inquiry he replied: "When you left withthe bullocks I inquired from the boy what the trouble was?" The boysaid, "Puppy been jump down on the steer's back, and old Darling beenthrow 'em a good way. " My mate said, "You been laugh?" The boy answered, "Baal! me only been laugh alonga inside. " He thought I might have beatenhim if I had detected a smile on his face. While I was camped justoutside Dalrymple, I one day told the boy if anyone wanted me, to say Iwas in the township. I had just finished a game of billiards at thehotel, when a man entered laughing. He called me on one side, and saidhe had asked my boy where I was. He said "That fella along public houseplaying--he got 'em spear in his hand, and knock about things all a samelike it duck egg. " He added the boy had followed me and watched myactions. 

CHAPTER VI. 

I continued carrying to Ravenswood, Charters Towers, the Gilbert andEtheridge goldfields until October, 1872, when I loaded for the latterplace, delivering my load towards the end of the year, and just as thewet season set in. My travelling mate at this time was Billy Wilson, andhe, wishing to return to port, left me in charge of his team. I campedon the Delaney River, and as there was abundance of grass, the bullocksgave no trouble. On Wilson's return, we decided to purchase two loads ofstores from Clifton and Aplin's branch store, to take to the PalmerRiver rush which had just broken out, owing to William Hann's report onhis exploration through the Peninsula becoming known. 

William Hann was a first-class bushman, but it is quite evident he wasvery much astray in one portion of the trip, which led to the great golddiscovery. On page 13 of his report, referring to his following up theNormanby River, he stated he crossed the divide between the Normanby andEndeavour Rivers, and followed a gully for nine and a-half miles; ... When it became a considerable creek which he called Oakey Creek, itbeing the first place he saw the familiar oaks. Under date 21stSeptember, 1872, he reports:--"Running this creek down in an easterlydirection, and being compelled to cross it several times until itjunctioned with a large river running north and south"; he adds "thisriver was, of course, no other than the Endeavour, of which so much hasbeen said and heard from time to time. " In this assumption he was farout. Owing to the rough country, Oakey Creek had to be crossed threetimes, and while being only one creek its crossings were afterwardsknown as Big, Middle and Little Oakey. The creek forms one of theheads of the Annan River, so named by Dalrymple. This river coming fromthe south-east falls into the sea some miles south of Mount Cook, which, with its spurs, divides it from the estuary of the Endeavour. Althoughthere was a qualified surveyor in the party, it does not appear that heput Hann right. I do not mention this with any other desire than to showwhat difficulties our early explorers met with. 

[Illustration: JOHN MURTAGH MACROSSAN]

The manner in which Hann extricated his party from the terrible roughcountry at the heads of the Bloomfield and Daintree Rivers stamps him asa fine bushman, resourceful and dauntless. 

We had a very exciting trip passing Fossilbrook, Mount Surprise, andFirth's Stations, crossing the Lynd, Tate, Walsh and Mitchell Rivers. These were all running strong. When we arrived at the Walsh, two horseteams had been camped there for a fortnight, and the owners told us theriver was uncrossable. After putting the bullocks on grass, my mate (whowas a splendid bushman), rode into the river. The water being clear, hewas able to zig-zag a sand bank, avoiding deep water, and found we couldget the waggons across by putting the goods on the guard rails. This wedid that night unknown to the owners of the other teams who were campedfarther on, but out of sight. In the morning we yoked up, and passedthem, stating we were going to attempt crossing. This they declared wasimpossible, but came down to see us make the attempt. We only had ourshirts on, and rode our horses bare-back. We made the crossingsuccessfully, and camped on the northern bank. The river came down againthat night, and delayed the horse teams another week. When we reachedthe Mitchell River, we found there were forty teams of all sorts andsizes waiting to cross. The next day my mate said that the river wasfordable, and he would cross. We led the way, followed by the others. Quite a little village of people of both sexes camped that night on thenorth side of the Mitchell. Our troubles were now over, and we hadthirty miles of easy travelling, past Mount Mulgrave to the PalmerRiver. 

There was such a quantity of stores arriving at the one time that wecould not dispose of ours, so it was arranged that Wilson should takehis team to Cooktown, and purchase a load jointly for us, and that Ishould remain, put up a tarpaulin store for the goods, and dispose ofthem as opportunity offered. To do this I decided to sell my bullockteam and horses, as I did not know how long I should remain. 

In the meantime, another diggings called Purdie's Camp broke out fortymiles up the river, so I purchased some more stores and engaged a horseteam to carry all the goods there at £40 per ton. The only grass on theroad was that known as "turpentine. " This the horses would not eat, consequently we had to feed them on flour and water. On arrival, Idisposed of everything at high prices. Thus flour, 200lb. Bag for £20, and other things at like values. 

When at Purdie's camp, a packer--that is, a carrier using packhorses--came in with his horses, one of which had thrown his shoe. Thisrendered the horse useless to travel over the stony ridges. The packerwanted horse-shoe nails, so, as a joke, a carrier named Billy Yatesoffered to let him have five horse-shoe nails for their weight in gold. The offer was accepted, and I saw the nails put in one scale and thegold in the other. The packer was receiving one shilling per pound forpacking goods eleven miles, and on that day's trip the horse took150lbs. , thus giving him £7/10/-, less the price for the nails. I forgetthe value of the gold paid for the latter. 

I was one day in a store kept by a man named T. Q. Jones, locally knownas "Three Two, " when a digger came in to buy a needle. He demurred atthe price asked, one shilling, when the storekeeper remarked, "Good God, man, look at the price of carriage. "

Query--at 1/- per needle, what would a ton cost?

I had only my gold bag--which was fairly bulky--and my black boy, andhaving again met my old acquaintance Fitzmaurice, from Peak Downs, whohad also sold his loading and had sent his teams down to Cooktown, wedecided to walk the forty miles back to the Lower Palmer, carrying thegold in our blankets, which we slung over our shoulders. When we reachedthe township, which was then unnamed, we heard that the cost of carriagefrom Cooktown had risen to £130 per ton of 2, 000lbs. For 165 miles. Ilearnt that there were some teams camped at the Mitchell River, andhaving borrowed a horse from a friendly teamster, rode out to try andmake a deal for one or more teams. I succeeded in buying 24 bullocks andtwo old drays, with three horses, for £400, agreeing to take the carrierand his wife to Cooktown, and paid a deposit. The owner had not heard ofthe high prices ruling for loading. When we reached the township and helearnt this, he offered me £50 on my bargain to repurchase the teams, but I refused the offer. I then bought a new waggon for £60, and soldthe two old drays to the blacksmith for £20. This enabled me to have onevery strong team. 

I found out afterwards that this was necessary, as the road was veryheavy, notably fourteen miles of sand, known as the "Welcome Water-holeSand, " in which the wheels were buried to the axle. 

Billy Wilson, my partner, arrived with our joint loading at Palmervillejust as I arrived with my newly-bought team, and not liking the idea ofremaining as a storekeeper, I preferred to accompany him on his returnto Cooktown. We decided to sell our joint load at a price which nettedus £70 per ton for carriage. 

Before I reached Cooktown I met a storekeeper from that town who engagedme to take four tons of goods to what is now called Palmerville, at £120per ton. This price enabled me to engage a Chinese cook, so that I coulddevote all my attention to looking after the bullocks. 

After delivering my £120 loading, I made all haste on my return andsucceeded in obtaining another load of four and a-half tons at £100 perton. 

Cooktown at this time (towards the end of 1873), was composed wholly oftents. Diggers, who had been more or less successful, were arriving ontheir way to "the Bay" (Townsville), or farther south. 

I think that the Palmer was the last real alluvial gold rush inAustralia, and the class of men who followed such rushes in the searchfor gold is now extinct. Imagine to oneself the "lucky digger" in cordpants, top boots, red shirt, and sash with fringes hanging down, thewhole topped by a wide-rimmed felt hat, and we have a man who may beseen in present-day picture shows. There were some doubtful charactersamong the diggers, but they were as a general rule a fine stamp of men, slow to form friendship, but this once made, was loyally given andmaintained when fortune smiled, and not withheld when she frowned, onone or other. The digger of the past was not often known to desert orturn down the man or woman to whom he once gave his friendship. Somewere highly connected in other countries, some had been "'Varsity men. "I once assisted to bury the remains of one whose real name could neverbe learnt. From the clothes found in his camp, it could be seen thatthey originally had been marked, but the name had been cut out from eacharticle. I found two volumes from which the names had also been cut out;these were "Sheridan's Works" and "Cicero's Works" in Latin. Manypassages in the books were well marked with marginal notes in pencil, and both showed signs of being well studied. 

Carriage was invariably paid in gold at the standard of £3/15/- perounce. On sending the gold to the Sydney mint through the banks itrealised £4/7/6 per ounce, which, at the time, was considered to be arecord price. The bank and shipping charges, and insurance, etc. , amounted to 7/6 per ounce, so that we had a clear profit of 5/- per ounceon the gold by sending the gold to Sydney instead of paying it into thebanks. 

At Palmerville I met, for the first time, Dr. Jack Hamilton, afterwardsM. L. A. And whip for the National Party in the Parliament of 1888. Amongthe Palmer diggers Hamilton was extremely popular because of his prowessas an athlete, and his medical ability, which was given gratuitously toall. He was said to have been concerned in some of the many SouthAmerican revolutions, but although we were friendly from this time untilhis death, he never alluded to such an occurrence. I realised, however, that he was very reticent as to his early life, and the gossip may havehad some foundation. 

I delivered my load just as the wet season set in, so made my camp sixmiles down the river from Palmerville. My black boy caught a cold, which, in spite of the medicines I gave him, developed into pneumonia. He was very weak, and as he refused to accept food from anyone butmyself, I was a prisoner in camp. One evening he called me over, andmade a confession of what he said were lies he had told me at differenttimes. Once when I had sent him to muster some of my horses on the AnnanRiver, near Cooktown, he had returned saying he could not find them. Henow told me that when he had reached the river, he saw a lot of Myallblack fellows, which so frightened him that he gave up looking for thehorses, and camped until sun-down, thus leading me to think he had beenlooking for them all day. Several other little instances that I hadquite forgotten, he told me were lies. In the morning he was dead. Iburied him, and put a wooden cross over the grave. He was a splendidlittle fellow, and I missed him greatly. 

On returning to Cooktown in 1874, I offered to make an agreement with aChinese storekeeper to carry for him for twelve months at the rate of£50 per ton. After consulting Joss, he agreed, and I thus had constantemployment at a lucrative price. 

The Chinese storekeepers had sent to China to import a number of cooliesto pack their merchandise from Cooktown to the Palmer. 

The Government had just completed wharves and sheds at the landing, andrented these to Mr. F. W. J. Beardmore, stock and station agent there. 

This gentleman hearing that a steamer from the north was about to arriveconveying 400 Chinamen, came out to the four-mile, where a number ofcarriers were camped, to ask if we would assist him at the wharf, as heintended to levy a poll tax of one shilling per head on each Chinamanwho landed, and to bring ropes with us. After a consultation, we decidedto help him, as these coolies were competing with our trade. Before theship arrived, we had stretched our ropes across the exit, and marshalledour forces to prevent any leaving the wharf without paying the tax. Astormy scene then ensued, as the coolies strongly objected to theimposition, ending by the swag of each man being confiscated and placedin the shed until payment was made. In carrying this out, we were ablyassisted by the sailors and sympathetic civilians. Several of theChinese attempted to escape, but were caught by their pig-tails andbrought back. After a controversy between Mr. Beardmore and the Chinesestorekeepers, the latter paid £20, the sum demanded for the release ofthe swags. The Chinese had no sympathisers to assist them in obtainingredress. 

The Chinese storekeepers generally packed their goods by their owncountrymen, who carried them in baskets hung on bamboo sticks slungacross their shoulders. The Chinese packers, through fear of the blacks, invariably travelled in numbers and in single file. Many a time theywould draw down anathema of carriers by parading on the off-side of thebullocks, which were being yoked up, dangling their tins in an offensivemanner to the animals, which often resulted in the drivers hunting themaway with their bullock whips. As a further protection against theblacks, the Chinese kept up a loud conversation, which, if notunderstood, might be heard some time before they were met. 

On their return from the diggings these packers were believed to carryback gold in payment for goods. In a similar way it was thought thatgold was largely transferred to China. 

The value of gold known to have been obtained from the Palmer, isestimated at about six millions sterling. If there was such a secretexport by Chinese, the value would probably be very much more. 

Shortly after making my first trip from Cooktown, I met Dr. O. Quinn, the then Roman Catholic Bishop of Brisbane, who was visiting the Palmer, and who with much glee told me he had just come safely through the"Gates of Hell. " This was a short cut from the original track fromCooktown, and was opened up by Inspector Douglas to avoid the manycrossings of the Palmer during the wet seasons, but was abandoned owingto the hostility of the blacks. Many a digger and several packers weremurdered on this route and their remains eaten by the blacks of thislocality. It is a sort of long passage, or cut through the rocks, justabout wide enough for a pack horse to pass through easily. Overheadlarge boulders here and there are lying across the passage. 

CHAPTER VII. 

Owing to depredations and murders committed by the blacks betweenCooktown and the Palmer, it was found advisable for teams and packers totravel in numbers for mutual protection. On the trip to Palmerville, Itravelled in company with nine other teams, and after crossing theNormanby River we camped on the bank. Our bullocks strayed some milesdown the river, and on mustering them in the morning we found the trendof the river was towards the Deighton, one of its tributaries, and inthe direction of where the old road crossed it. A party was formed, ofwhich I was one, to ascertain if it was possible to reach the Deightonwithout going through the "Welcome Water-hole Sand. " We found good, firmcountry which made it practicable. On returning, we rode our horsessingle file, thus making a good pad for the bullocks to follow. Ourfirst night out we camped between two lagoons. A mate and I went out toget some ducks or geese, which swarmed on the lagoons. We had previouslynoticed that the blacks' tracks had formed beaten pads, like sheeps'tracks, round the lagoons. 

We crossed a soakage running through sand; there were dense patches ofscrub near the lagoons, and I had an impression that it was not safe togo farther on foot, and said I would go back. My mate at first demurred, but eventually yielded. When we came back to the wet sand we saw blacks'tracks over our boot prints. It was evident we had been followed, andhad we not returned would most certainly have been speared in someconvenient place. That night dogs were barking incessantly. My waggonbeing on the outside, I let the tarpaulin down and slept on the groundinstead of on the bunk, rigged up between the spokes of the hindwheels--there was less likelihood of a spear catching me there. 

After crossing the Deighton we met some empty teams coming down, andtold them of the new road we had opened up. The carriers said they wouldgo that way. We cautioned them to be careful of the blacks, as therewere numbers of them in the vicinity. Some time after the carriers toldus they found that the blacks had covered the road with bushes, sticksand small trees to screen their hunting grounds. They also said they hadmet a German, his wife and little girl, at the turn-off on the Normanby, and advised them not to go on the new track as the blacks were bad, andthey had no firearms. However, the German, whose name was Johan Strau, persisted, saying he was not afraid of blacks, as he had been used tothem. 

On arriving on the Palmer, we met two carriers who were riding down withtheir gold. We told them also of the new road we had opened up, and theydecided to ride that way. 

We also advised them to be careful as the blacks were numerous near thelagoons, which they would pass. They said they had a revolver, but onlythree cartridges, which they deemed sufficient for protection, as theywere riding. 

Later these carriers had reported to the police, that on reaching theopen space around the lagoons I have mentioned, they saw a large numberof natives, and thinking mischief had been done, they discharged therevolver amongst the blacks, who decamped. When the carriers reached theabandoned spot they found Strau's body beneath the dray. The dead bodyof his wife was a little distance away. A spear had been driven throughher mouth, and had pinned her to the ground. Both bodies were warm. Three horses were lying dead, but there was no sign of the little girl. 

The carriers immediately galloped on to the fifteen-mile bend of theNormanby River, where a number of teams and packers were camped. In themorning a well-armed search party was formed. On arrival at the scene ofthe murders, scouts were posted to give notice if the blacks werereturning. A grave was dug, and the bodies lowered into it. While thiswas being carried out noises were heard in the scrub. The partyproceeded in the direction of the sound and found the little girl, alarge gash across the forehead, her stomach ripped up by the blacks'wooden knives, and her eyes picked out by crows. The body was broughtin, and buried with the father and mother. Flour, sugar, tea, gunpowder, etc. , etc. , were heaped up on the ground, but there was no sign of thedray. Inspector Douglas, in charge of the native police, was informed. His detachment followed the murderers across the Normanby River, wherethey overtook and dispersed them. Portions of the dray, stripped of allthe iron work, were also found. 

The police learnt, through the troopers from some blacks who werecaptured, that Strau's party was camped for dinner when the blacksattacked them. The man was speared while reading a book beneath thedray, and the woman was sewing, sitting against the wheel of the dray. Before being killed outright, the woman was subjected to horribleoutrage by the blacks. It was intended to keep the little girl, but twoold gins quarrelled over her possession, and it was decided to kill thechild, and so avoid dissension among the tribe. From these murders thelagoons were known as the "Murdering Lagoons. "

On my way back to Cooktown I camped near the grave. That night I laiddown in the centre of the bullocks when they camped after feeding, holding my loaded rifle and horse by the bridle. Bullocks are verysensitive to the smell of wild blacks, and will almost certainlystampede should any be about. Camping among the bullocks is consideredthe safest place one can find. 

Some time later, while at this camp, I was mustering my bullocks on theplain between the scrubs, when they stampeded. I looked, I could seenothing, but I knew that blacks must be the cause. On returning to thewaggons, I was informed that three troopers, who had run away from CapeYork, had been to the camp. They had no clothes, but rusty rifles, andhad fought their way through the wild tribes of the Peninsula. Mybullock bells were the first sign of civilisation they had met for threemonths. 

Mr. William Hann had just arrived at Palmerville with a mob of fatbullocks from his Maryvale Station. I purchased 13 steers from him at£16 per head. The cattle were very quiet after their long droving, andas I was returning to Cooktown with my empty waggon, I was enabled tobreak them in. At that place I bought another waggon, and with sparebullocks from my first team, I was able to put two full teams on theroad. 

Sub-Inspector O'Connor's camp was at the Laura River. On one occasion, when dispersing some blacks, the troopers, who were all Fraser Islandnatives, saw the shiny, black skin of an aboriginal hiding in the bushsome distance away. They fired, and a little fellow about six years ofage got up and ran towards them. The troopers picked him up, and hebecame a favourite with them. They delighted in instructing him in drilland discipline, and he proved an apt pupil. O'Connor and myself becamegreat friends, and many a happy hour I've spent at his barracks whenpassing to and fro to the Palmer. Knowing I had no black boy, he gave methe little fellow he had so well drilled. I bought a pony for him toride, and it was laughable to see him, if we happened to meet thetroopers on the road, straighten himself up and salute the officer. 

O'Connor told me an amusing incident which occurred at Government Housein Sydney, when his cousin, Sir Hercules Robinson, was Governor. Invitations had been issued for a reception, at which Captain St. John, the aide-de-camp, called out the names of the guests as they arrived. Presently, he called out "Mr. Smith!" In response, one of those presentwalked towards the Governor, saying, "I don't think your two-year-oldfilly will win the Stakes this year, " and went on talking racingmatters. The captain relieved the situation by informing him that therewere refreshments in the other room. When all the guests were assembled, Sir Henry Parkes, the then Premier, asked Captain St. John, how thatman, pointing to Mr. Smith, came to be there, and said, "Do you knowthat he is one of the greatest scamps in Sydney, " and added, "For God'ssake get him out of here, or there'll be a scene. " Captain St. John saidhe only knew that his name was Smith, but acting on Sir Henry's advice, he approached him, stating that he had by mistake received theinvitation intended for another Mr. Smith. The man retaliated by sayingin a loud voice, "Oh, ah, very well; I've had two whiskeys and a soda, which comes to eighteen-pence. Here is half-a-crown; you may keep thechange yourself. "

In 1875, I loaded my two teams for a new diggings which had broken outabout 40 miles S. W. Of Cooktown. The township had been called Byerstown, after Johnny Byers, who had established a business there. Mr. Byers, many years after was appointed Government Land Agent at Hughenden, andsubsequently Land Commissioner there. He is now stock and station agent, doing good business in that town. 

Finding carrying paid well, I purchased another waggon, and by breakingin more steers, established my third team. These I now loaded forEdwardstown. This was the popular name for the main township, about 40miles up the Palmer River from Palmerville. It was officially known asMaytown, but the diggers would not recognise the latter name. To reachthis place we had some very rough country to negotiate by a new roadopened from the Laura, over what was called the Conglomerate. Althoughnot as good as the road _via_ Palmerville, it was much shorter. Onreturning to Cooktown I loaded my three teams for Blacksoil, wherethere was a store kept by Sam Burns, who, I understand, is still in thatlocality. 

The wet season set in much earlier this year, and caught us in theflooded country beyond the Normanby River, but by double banking theteams, and working in the rain, we reached an anthill flat which was soboggy that it was impossible to cross unless we made a sound road. Wehad passed two teams camped, but as I was within 15 miles of mydestination, I determined to push on. My drivers and I cut downsaplings, and made a corduroy, across which we sledged the twelve tonsof loading. This was rather risky, as we had a quantity of dynamite on, the explosive caps of which were inserted in 50lb. Bags of flour. Duringour work, which took three days to complete, the other teamsters wouldfrequently ride past and say, "That's right, boys, make a good road forus, " but did not offer to help. This riled me and my men. 

Sub-Inspector O'Connor, knowing we were close, rode over with histroopers to give us a hand. When we had got the last of the waggonsthrough, and put the loads on again, it was quite dark. After supper Isaid it would serve the other fellows right if we took up the saplingsand burnt them. The idea caught on with the men, and by the aid of thetroopers, we took up every stick and, with some trouble, made a hugebonfire of them. As they were saturated with water it was difficultsetting them alight, and the rain continued the whole time. However, byabout midnight we completed our job, tired out, wet through, and no dryblankets to sleep in. Next morning, we were yoking to move on when theowner of the other teams came up and threatened us with revenge forburning the timber. When he saw O'Connor and his troopers he calmeddown, and returned to his teams, regretting he had not assisted us. Henow had to do as we had done, but with all the saplings which had beenin close proximity cut down. The next day we reached our destination, and formed a good camp at the Blacksoil to enjoy our Christmas dinnerand a well-earned rest. 

I now began to feel a tinge of rheumatism in my arms through wearing wetclothing continuously. About the new year one of my saddle horses cameinto the camp with a portion of a spear stuck in his rump. We threw himand cut out the barbed head of the spear, but the wound afterwardsremained a running sore. I caught the camp horse, which we always kepthobbled, and started in search of the others. In following the tracks, Ifound where the blacks had rounded them up--killing two, one myfavourite hack--and had taken away the meat for consumption. 

After mustering the others, I reported the matter to O'Connor, who hadjust received the information of the murder of two packers, and waspreparing for a long patrol. Six troopers, O'Connor and myself, started--all being fully armed. I took them to where the blacks hadkilled two horses; the boys then followed the track by instinct, as Ithought. The rain had washed out all signs to me. When crossing a highridge, so bare and hard that our horses left no tracks, two of thetrackers were riding ahead, the others driving the pack horses behind. Isaid to O'Connor, "I don't believe they are on the tracks. " "Well, " hesaid, "I can't see any, I will call them back. " He called out "Sambo!"which was the name of the Corporal, "Where track?" Sambo pointed to ablade of spinifex. I asked "Where?" He answered, "There. " So I got offmy horse, and there was a tiny speck of blood which had dropped on theroot, and had not been washed off by the rain. It turned out the Myallshad been carrying the flesh of my horses, and the blood had dropped hereand there. 

We came to where the blacks had had a great feast on the bank of theKennedy River. At this spot it was rather wide, with a sandy bed, thewater running over it about two feet deep. I found the shoes, tail, andmane of my favourite horse on the bank. We held a consultation, and itwas decided to send two of the boys with the pack horses back somedistance from the river, and then to travel parallel with it, as thecountry close to this river was very broken. The rest of the party wereto follow the river down towards Princess Charlotte's Bay. We had a boyout on each side to see if the Myalls had left the river bed. They knewwe could not track them in the water. We followed the river down for twodays, and I shall not forget the torture of walking bare-footed oncoarse sand with water running over it. I tried walking in the waterwith my boots on, but the sand came into my boots and made my feet quitesore. O'Connor was in the same plight as myself. 

On the afternoon of the third day, the boys saw smoke rising about amile ahead. We immediately left the river and put up our tents for acamp, short hobbling the horses with no bells on, but could not boil thebilly, as smoke from the fire would be seen. The moon rose aboutmidnight, and as the rain had ceased, we decided to start about 2 a. M. , leaving our horses and belongings in camp. 

It was a rather weird procession as we made our way along the river. Five naked black troopers in single file in the lead, their only dress acartridge belt round the waist and cap on head. They were mostparticular in wearing it when going into action, otherwise there wouldbe difficulty in recognising them or each other. O'Connor, myself andthe corporal brought up the rear. 

After travelling some distance through grass, which in places was overour heads, we heard a peculiar chuckle on an island in the bed of theriver. It was decided to send the five boys round to the other side, whilst we, O'Connor, Sambo, and myself remained, and waited. Towardsdaylight we heard shots apparently about a mile down the river, and ranin their direction. We had not gone far when a big black fellow sprangup from the river, disappearing in the long grass before I could bringmy rifle to the shoulder. I then heard a shot behind me. We afterwardsfound the Myall dead, and eventually reached the place where the blackshad camped. The boys had previously dispersed most of them. If at anytime I felt a compunction in using my rifle I lost it when I thought ofthe murders of Strau, his wife and daughter, and the outrages committedupon them, and again of the murder, and eating, of two packers a shorttime before. 

We burnt all the blacks' weapons and several dilly bags containing thedead bodies of infants which they carried about with them. The stench ofburning human flesh was sickening. 

I went with one of the troopers down the river, where the soil at theroots of a large gum tree had been hollowed out by the water. Underneathit resembled a huge cave. Without saying anything to me, the trooperfired two shots into the cave. I then asked, "What are you firing at?"He replied, "Two fella sit down there. " After which he hauled out thedead bodies of two blackfellows. 

On our way back we met the troopers from the Palmer, who were also outfor the same tribe. The Palmer police went on down the river, and wereturned to the Laura Camp quite tired out. The troopers told us thereason they did not stop at the island on their way down was because itcontained only a mob of old gins, who had knocked up the previousevening, and could not make the camp. 

When preparing to return to Cooktown, O'Connor prevailed upon me to waitat the police camp while he and the troopers patrolled the road pastMurdering Lagoon. On his return, he told me the blacks had been thereduring the wet season, and had dug up Johan Strau's grave, and carriedoff the bodies. When I arrived at the place with the teams, I saw thestains made by the chest of tea the blacks had pillaged off the dray onthe day of the murder. 

Sub-Inspector O'Connor was a cultured Irish gentleman. Being possessedof a private income, he would provide money prizes for shooting amongsthis troopers, and despite being only possessed of the old Snider rifle, they quickly developed into good shots. Probably this and their knowncapabilities in tracking induced the Victorian authorities torequisition their services to track the noted Kelly Gang bushrangers in1878. Mr. O'Connor and his boys, with Constable King, from Maryborough, were at Glenrowan when Ned Kelly was taken prisoner, and the remainderof the gang burnt in the public house. 

[Illustration: NORTH GREGORY HOTEL. ROBT. FITZMAURICE, LICENSEE. 1879. ]

On reaching Cooktown I again loaded my three teams for Maytown, returning to Palmerville empty, where I sold one of my teams. On thetrip my rheumatism became so bad that I determined to take a trip toSydney, leaving my teams to camp during the wet season now commencing, in charge of one driver and the black boy. 

I left Cooktown in the E. And A. Company's s. S. "Singapore" in December, 1875. On board I made the acquaintance of Captain Pennefather, latelyComptroller of Prisons, who, at that time, had a fleet of boats atThursday Island, engaged in pearl fishing. On arrival at Townsville, John Dean (late M. L. C. ), came aboard, and we renewed an acquaintanceformed some years before when he was butchering at Townsville, and whereI had purchased steers from him. 

It was my first trip on the coast, and with fine weather, I wasdelighted with the beautiful scenery. Owing to the early rains thenumerous islands were clad in their richest verdure, especially did theWhitsunday Passage appeal to me. Most of the islands in the passage wereinhabited by aboriginals, who made a practice of coming out in theircanoes to the steamers, picking up food, etc. , thrown to them from theship. One of our crew threw out a loaf of bread, which was attached to apiece of rope. A blackfellow and his gin in a canoe close by the shipcaught the loaf, but the moving of our boat tightened the line, whichpulled him out, his canoe being capsized, and he and his gin werestruggling in the water. However, as they were good swimmers, they soonrighted their canoe with the loss only of the loaf of bread. During thetrip lunch was spread daily under the awning on the top deck. This wasmuch more pleasant than down in the stuffy cabin. After leaving MoretonBay the sea became rough. A water spout formed not far from the ship, and it appeared large enough to swamp us had we been under it. The windmade it hard to light matches for a smoke, so Captain Pennefatherintroduced his flint and steel, and lit a stick composed of dry buffalomanure; this we found very useful with which to light our pipes. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

We arrived at Sydney on a Friday night early in January, 1876. John Deanrequired a rig out, and being a man of 21 stone weight could not buy aready-made shirt, so had to be measured. We stayed at the OccidentalHotel, in Wynyard Square, and hearing that "Our Boys" was being playedat the Theatre Royal, took seats in the orchestra stalls, whichconsisted of wooden spring seats. We arrived when all was quiet and theplay in progress. As John sat down every screw came out of the seat, andhe plumped on the floor to the amusement of the audience. The fun wasgreater when he was seen slowly, but successfully, to lower himself intoanother seat. 

After the performance, thinking we had sufficient bump of locality tofind our hotel without inquiry, we walked, and continued walking untilwe found ourselves down at the wharves, which, we had been told, was anundesirable quarter at any time, but especially late at night. From apasser-by, we learnt that the hotel was a long distance off. Afterreceiving instructions, we reached our lodging just as the bar was beingclosed at midnight. Dean suggested a drink, which we ordered at a sidewindow, and asked the barmaid to bring the liquor into an adjoiningroom. A man calling himself Count Bismarck, and who was greatly excitedabout something, was in the bar. He said to Dean, "Aren't you going toshout for me. " Dean replied, "No, " at which the Count remarked, "Oh, never mind, I have plenty of money. " Dean replied, "You must be a meanblooming beggar, then, to ask me to shout. " Dean and I sat at a smalltable discussing the play, when a revolver shot rang out and somethingseemed to strike us. We immediately rushed for a green baize door, butsaw no one. On returning to the room, the barmaid, who was quite pale, asked "Are you dead?" I answered, "No. " At the moment I did not realisethe absurdity of the question, or that the answer was unnecessary. 

We failed to find the German, who had disappeared. Mr. Yeo, thelandlord, ran in to inquire what the trouble was. When we returned tothe room I found a bullet under the chair I was sitting on. It hadstruck the ceiling, and brought down the plaster. Later, in Melbourne, John Dean heard that Count Bismarck had been sentenced to two years'imprisonment for shooting a man. 

After a very pleasant time in Sydney, I found the rheumatism had leftme, so I deemed it desirable to return north, and to work. On my arrivalin Townsville I found the wet season was not yet over. Many friendsprevailed upon me to stay back in Townsville, where I put in a mostenjoyable fortnight with some of my old pals. 

At the end of the fortnight, the s. S. "Banshee, " a boat of about 100tons, was advertised to sail for Cooktown, _via_ the HinchinbrookChannel. I booked my passage by her, and was informed she would sail at5 a. M. On a certain day. 

I was staying at the Criterion Hotel, on the beach, where the eveningprevious to my intended departure, I was given a send-off, which lastedinto well-advanced morning. Owing to this I missed the boat. 

A few hours afterwards it was blowing a cyclone. Spray came over thehotel. It was thought the "Banshee" could not live through the blow, andwe were not surprised when we learnt very quickly that she was wreckedabout 3 p. M. The same afternoon. It was ascertained later that, findingher engines were not powerful enough to make headway against the wind, the captain tried to weather a rocky point on Hinchinbrook Island, sothat he might beach her in a sandy bay beyond. She failed to get aroundthe point, and lifted by a wave over the rocks, became fixed in a cleft, where she soon bumped a hole in her hull. Such of her crew andpassengers who were not lucky enough to be thrown far inland weredrowned, or crushed to death. One passenger, named Burstall, crawled outon a boom, from which the waves swept him high on to the rocks. Afollowing wave put him out of danger, but left him considerably bruised. Out of thirty-seven on board, sixteen were saved, one a stowaway, who, it was said, walked out of the hole made in the ship's hull by therocks. 

A few days afterwards I returned to Cooktown by the s. S. "Singapore, "and saw what was left of the "Banshee" in the distance. In February, 1877, the "Singapore" ran ashore on L. Island, off Port Mackay, andbecame a total wreck. 

I had left my riding horses in Cooktown, and a day or so after myarrival, I went on to Palmerville to send my teams down to the Port. Having done this, and started them two days ahead, Mrs. Jackson, whom Ihave mentioned as having met some years previously in the Peak Downsdistrict, asked me to take 200 ounces of gold down to the bank. I agreedto do so, carrying it in my valise on the saddle. I was very glad when Ireached the waggons to get rid of the gold, as it proved a very deadweight on my legs. 

During this wet season (1876), the Government had sent a boat to theLaura River to carry travellers across. These were very few. The boatmanwas very much alone, and I found that the blacks had taken theopportunity of eating him. While driving the leading team up the bank, Isaw numbers of blacks' tracks all around the boat. We drew up a shortdistance from the bank, and after unyoking, I made my customary visit towater, with towel and bucket, which latter was filled for the cook. Thewater in the river was running in a channel on the opposite side, andwhen I was close to it, I heard a chuckle such as the blacks make. Looking towards the crossing I saw a mob of blacks bathing, and onerunning towards the bank. Without a second look, I dropped the bucket, and sprinting across the sand and up the bank to the waggons, I calledout, "Get the rifles ready! The blacks are at the crossing. " Afterwaiting some little time we saw Sub-Inspector Townsend and his blacktroopers riding towards us. He stayed for dinner, and from mutualexplanations I learnt it was his troopers' tracks I had seen. They werereturning from an inspection down the river, and had camped at thecrossing over night. They decided to have a bogey before dinner, and theboy I saw running, went to get his uniform cap to denote a trooper. HadI taken a second look, I should have seen Mr. Townsend with them. Helaughingly described me racing, hidden with sand which my feet werescooping up, in my haste to get the firearms. 

Up to now, carrying had been so remunerative that one would have seenone-time station managers, ex-inspectors of police, old naval men, andall sorts and conditions of other men wielding the bullock-whip andmaking good earnings, but as competition became keener, carriage fellmuch lower and more difficult to obtain. The goldfield was falling off, and more in the hands of the Chinese. I had a very hard time to keep mythree teams in employment during the year. 

In December, 1877, I again suffered severely from malaria, and havingpreviously sold one of my teams, I decided to make another trip toSydney, leaving the driver to bring down the two teams to the Laura, andcamp there until my return. The wet season was setting in, consequentlywe could not procure any loading. I had an uneventful trip down toSydney, and again met with John Dean at Mona House, in Wynyard Square. 

I returned to Queensland about the beginning of March, 1878, the malariahaving left me. 

Passing through Townsville, I met Fitzmaurice, who told me that carryinghad fallen away between Cooktown and the Palmer, and that he had leftthat district. He suggested that I should join with him in carrying tothe western country, and added that he had been informed by a squatterthat there was a good opening for a store at the Conn Waterhole, on theDiamantina River. This is about forty miles down the Western River, fromwhere Winton now is. 

The suggestion appealed to me, and it was agreed that I should go on toCooktown, start my two teams overland to Townsville, then return anddrive one of his three teams on our western trip without loss of time. 

On my arrival in Cooktown, I went to the Laura, where the teams werestill camped. Everything was in order, and my bullocks fat. I startedthem on their long trip overland to Townsville, where Fitzmaurice and Ihad purchased sixteen tons of assorted merchandise from Clifton andAplin. Arriving in Townsville in a few days by steamer, we loaded up forthe far and, to most Queenslanders, what was then unknown country. 

Both Fitzmaurice and myself were well known to the firm through ourcarrying for them from the Port to the several diggings. They generouslygave us the goods without our paying any cash, and without giving eventhe scratch of a pen. When I returned to Townsville at the end of 1879to purchase more supplies, I signed a promissory note for the cost ofall the goods at four months. Practically, Messrs. Clifton and Aplingenerously gave us the sixteen tons of goods on a credit which extendedover twelve months, and which were only paid for when the note matured. 

It was my fortune to have now met in Townsville a man who was thenbearing a high reputation in North Queensland, but who was soon tobecome famous farther afield. By some reason I cannot even nowunderstand, the diggers very seldom put their confidence or trust in thewrong man, and in John Murtagh Macrossan, they found their idol. Mentally big, physically small, his eloquence, ability and couragebrought him, on their behalf, into conflict with strong and powerfulinfluences. 

I met him later in the Parliament of 1888. In this were many able men, but none, not even the great chiefs McIlwraith and Griffith, couldovershadow Macrossan. 

In his private life, which was most exemplary, I foundMacrossan--although it was said he was otherwise--to be most tolerant toall who might differ from him in social and religious matters. Like mostof his countrymen, he was, however, in politics, a strong, bitterpartisan. Once a question became political, if one did not agree withMacrossan, he made an enemy. Between him and McIlwraith a close, personal friendship existed for years, but towards the end ofMacrossan's life they became estranged. This was due to the strong, independent stand Macrossan took on a political matter which gaveMcIlwraith offence. 

In a conversation I had with McIlwraith just prior to his leavingQueensland, as it turned out to be, for ever, he spoke most feelingly ofMacrossan's memory and their earlier friendship. 

Although Macrossan had many chances of enriching himself, he died, in1891, as he had lived, a man, poor in the world's goods, but rich in theesteem and respect of all, not excepting those who very widely, andstrongly differed with him on political, national, or religious matters. 

Had he lived in latter years, I doubt if he would have become a popularleader of what is generally designated as "The People. "

He was not an opportunist, and he could not submit his independence ofmind, character, or principles to any person or junta. 

His breach with Sir Thomas McIlwraith proved this. 

If an impartial biography of John Macrossan should ever be written, itwill prove interesting and instructive reading. 

CHAPTER IX. 

We started the teams from Townsville about the end of July, 1878, andpassed a gang engaged on construction of the railway line to ChartersTowers at Double Barrel Creek, now known as Toonpan, 17 miles fromTownsville. 

Our destination was Collingwood, more widely known as the ConnWaterhole, where the Government Surveyor had laid out a townshipsituated about 40 miles west of Winton. 

Having heard that the business men of Charters Towers were offering areward of £50 to any carrier who would open a more direct road to thewestern country, and that a road party had left to mark the line, wedecided to try and win it. On our arrival at the Towers, we interviewedthe merchants, who disclaimed any knowledge of a reward having beenoffered for opening the road. We decided to follow the road party, whohad marked a line to junction with the old Flinders road. On the journeyI found a tree on which I had cut my initials when travelling to theGulf with sheep, some twelve years before. Owing to double banking theteams through the heavy sand bordering "Billy Webb's Lake, " we had tocamp without water that night. There was green picking on the water-lesslake for the bullocks, but they had to be watched. The road party hadleft an empty cask where they had camped on the lake, and one of thebullocks, a poly, smelling water in the bottom of the cask, forced hishead into it. On lifting his head, the cask came with it. The bullock, being unable to see, made for his mates with their bells on, and then ageneral stampede of the bullocks took place in all directions. Finally, a bell bullock made for the timber, the poly followed him, and runningagainst a tree, smashed the cask. Thus ended an amusing incident, withno damage done except to the cask. 

The road party left the old road and made a ploughed furrow across thedowns to Rockwood Creek, which we followed, and camped the night there. 

Fitzmaurice, whilst riding after the bullocks, met Mr. Bergin, the manin charge of the party, who told Fitzmaurice that he was instructed tomark a direct line to Collingwood, on the Western River, and that heintended going up Thornhill Creek, cross the divide between theLandsborough and Diamantina Rivers, and then run down Jessamine andMill's Creeks to the Western River, and thence to Collingwood. 

We took the road up Rockwood Creek to its head, and crossed the samedivide as the road party were going, only farther north, striking thehead of Manuka Creek, which we ran down to its junction with Mill'sCreek. This we followed to the present site of Winton, which we reachedat the end of October. The new road opened by the road party had so manypatches of heavy sand on it, and long stages for water, that it wasnever used by carriers, and some years later Ramsay Bros. Obtainedpermission from the Government to close that portion of it running downJessamine Creek, on the Oondooroo run. 

A few years later the Government made tanks on the road betweenHughenden and Winton, after which all traffic from Townsville to Wintonand the west generally, came that way. 

Mr. Tom Lynett, whom I had previously known on the Palmer, and who wasbacked by Burns, Philp and Co. To start a store, had left Townsville forthe same destination as ourselves, if the locality was found to besuitable. 

He did not overtake his teams until they reached the Twelve-mile Hole, on the Elderslie road, where he stopped them while he rode on toCollingwood, the newly-surveyed township, to inspect. 

He concluded the country was subject to floods, so he turned his teamsback, and decided to build on the spot on which we found him camped whenwe arrived with our teams. 

We also met a man named Bob Allen, who had been located in theneighbourhood for two years or more. Allen was an ex-sergeant of police, who left Aramac about 1875 to start a store and public house on what isknown as the Pelican Hole, one mile west of the site of Winton. Veryheavy rains fell in 1876, and we were told he was compelled by floods toremain two days on the wall-plate of his building. 

When the water allowed him, he shifted what was left of his hotel andstore, and re-erected them on the present site of the QueenslandNational Bank, Winton. 

Allen, Lynett, Fitzmaurice and I discussed the removal of the building, and forming the town back on higher ground. 

We offered to do the work without cost, but Allen and Lynett decided toremain where they were. We had to accept the position, and agreed tobuild in line with the others. 

This formed the base upon which Mr. Surveyor Jopp laid out the townshipafterwards. 

After putting up a skeleton shed covered by tarpaulins, I obtained fromAyrshire Downs two loads of wool for our teams, returning to Townsville. In the meantime, Fitzmaurice had disposed of £600 worth of goods. I wasoccupied a whole day pasting the pieces of the torn and damaged cheques. I then started for the nearest bank, which was at Aramac, 250 milesaway. 

A drought being on, I had many difficulties in getting through. 

There were only 5, 000 sheep on Vindex, and these were camped on awater-hole which had been filled by a stray thunderstorm. The remainderof the sheep from the run were travelling for grass and water on thecoast near Townsville. As a compliment, I was allowed to replenish mywater-bag, and to obtain one drink for each of my two horses. 

My next camp was off the road on East Darr Station, where a mob ofkanakas were cutting down scrub for fencing. 

When I reached Muttaburra, I found the hotel to be a grass hut. Itproved to be a very rowdy place, so I decided to camp on the ridgeoutside the town without food, and have my breakfast when passingthrough in the morning. 

I carried £600 worth of cheques in my trousers pocket. This I thoughtwas the safest place. 

I was very pleased when at last I reached Aramac, after bank hours, andhanded the money to Mr. Fulton, the manager of the Queensland NationalBank, and the next morning found only £30 of them dishonoured. 

Immediately on my return to Winton, I started for Townsville to load mytwo teams with timber and iron to build an hotel. I travelled withFitzmaurice's teams to assist them over a dry stage to Rockwood. 

We camped close to Oondooroo Station and when bringing the bullocks into be yoked in the morning, one of them jumped and tossed his head inthe air, and I then saw a tiger snake disappear in a hole near by. Thebullocks were yoked up, and after going a short distance the off-sidepoler of one of the teams dropped dead. On examination, we found twosmall punctures in the nose. It was the bullock I had seen jump andthrow up its head. 

When we reached Manuka Station there was only one water-hole near theroad. The owner of the station was preserving this for his stock. Thedistance to the next water was 20 miles, so it was absolutely necessarywe should obtain a drink for the bullocks before we tackled the longstage. 

I interviewed Mr. Anderson, the owner, and having explained ourposition, asked to be allowed a drink for the bullocks. He flatlydeclined to allow this. 

After about an hour's pleading, he gave his consent subject to theproviso that the bullocks should be watered in batches of ten at a time, and so preserve the hole from being puddled. We watered the stock in theevening, and by travelling all night, managed to reach Rockwood withoutmishap. Here I was told I would get water for myself and horses 25 milesfurther on. 

The next water after that would be 55 miles to Hughenden, on theFlinders River. 

I left the teams to make a long road round Tower Hill, which was agood-watered route. When I reached the 25-mile, where I was told I wouldget water, I found the ground just glassy, the water having evaporatedin the December sun. 

Knowing the distance I would have to go without water, I decided tohobble the horses out on dry grass, and dodged the sun round a treeuntil the afternoon, when I saddled up. In about ten miles I passedCameron Downs Station, which was deserted. I reached the water abouteight the following morning, very thankful to have come through the 80miles safely. It had been a glorious moonlight, by which I could see thetracks of numerous snakes on the road. I felt that if my horses werebitten it would mean a perish for me. 

I remained at the water until about 5 p. M. , when I rode into Hughendentownship, which was formed on the spot where I had camped with the sheepsome twelve years before. I put up at Magnay's hotel, and was glad tohave a square meal for dinner. 

In the morning I resumed my journey, and having previously travelled thetrack frequently, went miles off it to obtain better feed for the horsesto camp. 

I overtook my own teams between Dalrymple and Townsville, and drove oneof them to the camp outside the latter town. 

After engaging another driver, the timber, iron, a billiard table andsome stores were duly loaded and despatched. I remained to sign the fourmonths' promissory notes for these and the goods previously referred to, and to give the teams time to negotiate the 30 miles to Thornton's Gap, as the crossing of the coast range was called at this place. At the footof the Gap I joined them, and assisted in getting them to the top. Ileft the teams here and rode on to Winton. 

On my arrival, I found that Fitzmaurice had sold out of most of thesupplies except the grog, which he was keeping for the hotel. He thenstarted on horseback for Townsville to give delivery of the wool, andload up his three teams with stores, etc. ; also more timber and iron tobuild the store. He would also bring his wife and child with him. 

At this time Winton was the rendezvous of some of the worst charactersof the west; fights were frequent on the then unformed streets. 

The rowdies threatened to take the grog in the store, and as there wereno police nearer than Aramac, I deemed it best to dispose of all theliquor to Allen, the local publican, who jumped at the chance to obtaina supply. 

A few residents formed themselves into a vigilance committee. 

The late Mr. J. A. Macartney passed through to visit his property, Bladensburg Station, and seeing how things were, wrote to the HomeSecretary asking for police protection. 

My teams had now arrived with the building material, and carpenters wereput on to erect the hotel. This was not finished until the end of 1879, when it was opened under the name of North Gregory Hotel. 

Great difficulty was experienced with the floors, there being no timberfor them. We puddled the mud and got the black gins to tramp it down, adding a picaninny to their backs to increase their weight. 

About July of this year, Fitzmaurice returned from Townsville with threehorses and a light dray on which he had brought his wife and littlegirl. 

Taking a plan of the hotel with me, I started for Aramac to interviewMr. Sword, the P. M. (afterwards member of the Land Court), to obtain aprovisional license. This he refused to grant until the building waserected. 

When I returned Winton was entirely out of liquor, and Allen did a greatbusiness in selling bottles of painkiller as a substitute. It waslaughable to see men take a bottle out of their pocket, saying, "Have anip, mate, it's only five shillings a bottle?"

About March, 1880, the Western River was in high flood, and ran mileswide. 

Sub-Inspector Kaye, of the native police, and Mr. John Haines, themanager of Elderslie Station, were in town, and wished to get to thestation 40 miles down the river. 

We put our carpenter on to make a boat, which carried them and thetroopers safely to their destination. 

Shortly afterwards Sub-Inspector Fred Murray came out from Blackall, bringing with him Sergeant Feltham, who formed the police station in asmall building which I rented to them. 

There was only a log to which offenders were chained. One day Felthamwent down to the store, leaving a prisoner chained up. Shortlyafterwards he was surprised when he saw his prisoner (who was a verypowerful man) marching into the public house carrying the log on hisshoulder, and call for drinks. It took three men to get him back to thelock-up. 

Fitzmaurice's teams arriving, we were enabled to complete the storebuilding, stock it, and the hotel, and resume business, which had beensuspended owing to running out of goods, etc. My teams had gone downempty, and were now on their way up with more loading. 

The original name for the town--now known as Winton--was PelicanWater-holes. Bob Allen, the first resident, whom I have mentioned, actedas post-master. The mail service was a fortnightly one, going west toWokingham Creek, thence _via_ Sesbania to Hughenden. There was no datestamp supplied to the office, but by writing "Pelican Water-holes" andthe date across the stamps, the post mark was made, and the stampscancelled. This was found to be very slow and unsatisfactory. 

Allen was asked to propose a name, and he suggested that the P. O. Shouldbe called "Winton. " This is the name of a suburb of Bournemouth, Hampshire, England, and Allen's native place. 

We had kept one of Fitzmaurice's teams to haul in firewood, and posts tofence a paddock on Vindex run, the lessees, Messrs. Scott and Gordon, having given us permission to do so. 

The manager of Elderslie also gave us permission to fence in a piece ofground at the Pelican Waterhole for a vegetable garden. 

The team obtained employment at Bladensburg, where Mr. Macartney wasbuilding a stockyard. As I felt clerical work to be hard on me, I wouldtake an occasional trip with the bullocks to relieve the drudgery. 

During this year the member for Gregory, Mr. Thomas McWhannell, passedthrough Winton, and opportunity was taken to bring under his notice thenecessity for a water supply for the town. The disabilities we sufferedunder were pointed out. We had to procure water from a hole in MistakeCreek, two and a-half miles away, the water of which was frequentlypolluted by numbers of dead cattle. By his efforts a sum was passed byParliament for water conservation. 

[Illustration: WESTERN RIVER IN FLOOD. LOOKING SOUTH FROM RAILWAYSTATION. ]

The Oondooroo bullock team had come in for supplies, but the driverstarted drinking, and was unable to take the team home. 

Not having forgotten my old avocation, I took his place, and therebybegan a close friendship with the Schollick Brothers, who werecompletely out of rations when I arrived. 

During this year the town and district were invaded by a plague of rats, travelling from north-east to south-west in hundreds of thousands. 

The vermin would eat the buttons off one's coat when camping out. Catsand dogs were surfeited from killing them. I told the Chinaman cook ofthe hotel that I would give him a pound of tobacco if he caught ahundred rats. That night, as I was sleeping on a stretcher at the backof the store, I was several times awakened by what seemed to be astamping of feet. In the morning I found that the Chinaman had obtainedan ironbark wooden shutter, and rigged up a figure four trap with baitunderneath, and by this means had obtained a wheelbarrow full of deadrats. 

These rats had bushy tails, and apparently lived on the roots of grass. These devastated the country through which they passed. It was unknownwhence they came from or whither they went. 

The rats were followed by a plague of dead cats in the water-holes. Therats had gone and the cats having had plenty, did not follow, but diedin the water-holes. 

Our team driver was James Gordon, one of two brothers who owned theselection which later became famous as Mount Morgan. We sold this teamto Warenda Station, and James Gordon went with it. 

During this year (1879), Vindex Station was purchased from Scott andGordon by Chirnside, Riley and Co. , of Victoria, who, like otherinvestors, spent money lavishly to develop the country. 

The manager was Mr. J. B. Riley. This gentleman died in 1889, but isstill affectionately remembered throughout the district. 

To those who knew him, his death was felt as that of a staunch personalfriend. By none was his death more regretted than by those who workedfor him, either as permanent or casual employees, and by whom a monumentto his memory has been erected on Vindex. 

Outside the property he controlled, J. B. Had three personal hobbies, agood horse, the Winton Divisional Board, and the local Hospital. Ofthese three hobbies his principal one was the hospital and its sickoccupants. On his death it was felt that the most appropriate monumentto him would be a new ward for eye complaints to be added to thehospital. 

This was generously subscribed to by all classes, and the J. B. Rileyward of the institution served to remind us of one who, by his charity, goodness and generosity, was a good man, but whose shyness did not allowof this being known. His brother, Mr. F. W. Riley, and Mr. R. L. Chirnside, who were closely associated with him, carried on his goodwork, and became as deservedly popular. 

Throughout this year (1880) the town and district had made progress, andnew people were coming in. 

We were now doing a good business in both store and hotel, consequentlywe had to depend on drivers for our teams without supervision. 

It was decided that I should follow the teams to Townsville to in someway dispose of them, and also to bring up a man to assist Fitzmaurice inthe hotel. 

When I reached Dalrymple I learnt that one of Fitzmaurice's teams hadbeen swept over the rocks while crossing the Burdekin River, and thateight of the bullocks were drowned. It appeared that the river, thoughnot a-swim, was running strong at the crossing. 

The first team crossed safely, but on the other reaching the strongwater, the driver of the team rode around to the off-side to keep thebullocks up the stream. His efforts were unavailing. With his horse hewas carried into deep water, from which they were rescued in anexhausted condition. Not so with the team. 

The bullocks were all drowned, and the waggon wrecked on the rocks. Fortunately, being empty, only eight bullocks were yoked to the waggon, but they were the pick of the team. This accident strengthened ourdesire to dispose of the teams. 

I sold Fitzmaurice's remaining team at Townsville at a satisfactoryfigure, and my own two teams were sold on their arrival to one of thedrivers on terms. 

The agreement was that we should provide him with loading fromTownsville to Winton at the rate of £30 per ton, until he had paid thepurchase money of it. This he did in a few trips. 

These teams could not carry the whole of the goods I had purchased, so Ileft an order with Clifton and Aplin to forward the remainder bycarriers as soon as they could despatch them. I engaged a suitable manto assist Fitzmaurice, and we left with saddle and pack horses forWinton, taking the shorter road _via_ Charters Towers. 

This we left at Rockwood, to make a still shorter route across the Downsfrom Culloden Station, over which the road party had ploughed a furrowacross to cut the head of Jessamine Creek, at the back of OondoorooStation. 

In crossing the divide between the Landsborough and Diamantina waters, we rode over virgin country which was infested with bush rats, andnumbers of tiger snakes gorged after eating them. 

In one place, which was 25 miles from water, the snakes were so numerousthat we had a difficulty in getting our pack horses safely through them. Yet it is argued that snakes are never very far from water. 

In 1880, Cobb and Co. Bought up a number of mail services throughoutWestern Queensland, and the general regularity and convenience of theircoaches served to open up the country. Cobb and Co. Carried out itscontracts under great difficulty in times of flood, but more frequentlyof droughts, and their record is one of which the company and itsservants might well be proud. Their coaches are now practically of thepast, but the time was when Cobb and Co. 's name was a synonym forefficiency and, when humanly possible, for punctuality. There were manyless enjoyable ways of realising life than by, say, to be leavingBarcaldine for Aramac in the dark of an early morning on the box seat ofa coach behind a spanking team of greys, driven by a master hand withthe whip and ribbons. And then if one stayed the night at a stage, wheretwo or more drivers met, and exchanged experiences of the trip, theirhorses, but more than all of their passengers, what an interesting timemight be passed. 

It was remarkable how observant of passengers the drivers would be, while the passenger all the time laboured under the impression that thedriver's time was taken up with his horses. 

The idiosyncracies of passengers would be discussed by drivers, and itmore than once happened I have heard of the peculiarities of certainpassengers at places hundreds of miles from where they came underobservation. 

Nearing Charleville, on a road I had not travelled before, I had a tripI had made from Normanton towards Croydon related to me by a driver whomI had never seen until then. 

I learnt he was told the story by the driver of the Blackall coach, whohad heard it in Barcaldine from Tommy Thompson, who was told it inWinton by Tommy Cahill, who received it at Hughenden from MartinWarneminde. 

I was quite satisfied and did not inquire further. 

Judging by the way they fulfilled the requests at different mail stages, these men must have been gifted with wonderful memories. At one stage adriver might be asked to call at Smith's, the storekeeper, and "tell himto give you a couple of pounds of tea and some potatoes for me;" atanother to get a pair of boots, size three, for the missus; at Jones', to get a bottle of eye lotion, and so on. These orders would befaithfully given on arrival, and the goods obtained before the driverwould attend to his own comfort or pleasure. 

From personal knowledge of Cobb and Co. 's men, in fact to westernmailmen generally, one might lift one's hat with respect as a tribute tohonesty and faithfulness for work well done and duty honourably carriedout. 

CHAPTER X. 

In 1880, our young township was becoming heard of, and was honoured withits first police magistrate in the person of Mr. Robert Johnstone. Thisgentleman had been a Native Police officer, and was associated withDalrymple in his explorations on the coast north of Cardwell. Dalrympleso much appreciated Johnstone's work that he named the outlet of one ofour great sugar districts--and a most beautiful stream--after him. 

I believe there is only one copy of Dalrymple's narrative of hisexpedition extant, and that is in our Parliamentary library. Thisnarrative should be re-published as a school paper so that present-dayQueenslanders might know something of the history of discovery withintheir own country. I doubt if many children, or even adults, know of thework done by Dalrymple, Hodgkinson, Landsboro, the Jardines, and manyother Queensland explorers. 

At this time the Court House and lock-up were in the same building, opposite our store, in the main street. It was built originally for aboarding house. 

All the Winton streets were named after the stations which lay in thedirection in which the streets were running. For instance, east andwest--Elderslie, Vindex, Cork and Dagworth. Those facing the north werecalled Oondooroo, Manuka, Sesbania and Werna. 

Mr. Johnstone conducted the first Government land sale this year, atwhich Lynett and ourselves secured the allotments facing ElderslieStreet on the north side, extending through to Vindex Street at theback, comprising an area of about three acres each. We had put a highfigure on our improvements, and we purchased the land at the upset priceof £6/10/- per half acre. Allen had only a half-acre facing the samestreet, and this was purchased by the Queensland National Bank. The bankimmediately opened business in a Coffee room, which Allen had erected atthe back, pulling down the public house to erect banking chambers in itsplace. Mr. Doherty was the first manager, succeeded by Mr. Alexander, and by Mr. Arthur Spencer a year or so later. 

In 1879, Julius von Berger, a refugee from Schleswig Holstein, to escapePrussian rule, commenced business as a chemist. He was clever in hisprofession, unassuming in character, and behind his retiring dispositionwas a fund of kindness and simplicity which endeared him to all. Hedied, much regretted, a few years back at a ripe old age. 

The Government had now let contracts for building a court house andpolice barracks in Vindex Street and post office in Elderslie Street. 

In 1881, a contract was also let by the Government to excavate a tank of15, 000 yards, to a man named Collins. He quickly commenced operationswith his plant at Magpie Gully, about half-a-mile from the town. When hehad made a hole of about 12 feet deep, a very heavy thunderstorm filledthe excavation with water. Previously, he had to cart his water nearlythree miles, and he was now desirous of utilising the water in theexcavation for his camp and horses. With difficulty he obtainedpermission from the Government Inspector supervising the work to makeanother roadway on the opposite bank. When this was allowed, he was ableto continue the work until he had got to a depth of 19ft. 6in. , or 18in. More than the specified depth of 18ft. He then removed the earth fromthe opposite side to the required depth of 18ft. When completed, he putin a voucher to be paid for the extra 18 inches, which the SupervisingInspector refused to certify, unless the whole depth across was 18 feetin accordance with the specifications. The earth was taken from one sideof the bottom of the tank and deposited on the other, to reduce thewhole depth by 18 inches. "Great is Red Tape. "

There was a change of management on Elderslie by the appointment of Mr. Alexander Gordon. He was a splendid specimen of a man, 6ft. 7in. Inheight, built in proportion, and most popular. I first met him betweenEvesham and East Darr Stations. I inquired the distance to the latterstation, which he was then managing. He replied, "Oh! a couple ofcanters and a smoke. " It is told of him that when he was travelling onthe coach between Charters Towers and Hughenden, he stayed one night ata stage which was a lignum hut, rather small in size. The driverinformed the other passengers that when he called Gordon at 4 a. M. , hefound that he had stretched himself during the night, and that his feetwere through the lignum, and so far outside that fowls were roosting onhis legs. 

About this time many of the properties were changing hands. TheSchollicks still retained Oondooroo; Elderslie was held by Sir SamuelWilson; Dagworth, by Fairbairns, who shortly afterwards sold out toMacpherson and Co. ; Bladensburg, by John Arthur Macartney; Sesbania, byManifold, Bostock and Co. ; Manuka, by Anderson and Nicol, who sold outto Baillie, Fraser and Donald; Ayrshire Downs and Cork, by McIlwraithand Smyth. The latter gentleman had camped with us when we were on theroad to Winton in 1878. He was taking out a blacksmith named Morgan forAyrshire Downs Station. Morgan afterwards started a blacksmith's shop inWinton. 

Mr. Smyth was afterwards elevated to the Upper House, and although of aretiring nature, was of a friendly disposition. 

All these investors were pouring money as if from a stream, anddeveloping their properties. 

The greater proportion of the capital so spent was from Victoria, and tothis State Western Queensland must be grateful for its development. 

Of all the then owners I have mentioned, and most of whom were residenton their properties, only one remains--John Bostock, of Sesbania. Ifthose men did not win success they deserved it, and no one was moreworthy (and there were many worthy men) than John Bostock. Schollick'sspent over £100, 000 on Oondooroo, and left it practically penniless. Macpherson drove from Dagworth with all his belongings on a buck-board, leaving unprofitable, and lost many thousands of pounds. Fraser, ofManuka, who came a little later, died of a broken heart. WesternQueensland is greatly subject to mirages, and it is of the nature ofthese which deluded many men with bright hopes to spend great fortunes. These men battled on to the end, but being of fighting races, when theywent down they were still fighting with never a word of despair or ofdefeat, and John Bostock alone remains. 

In this year Sir Thomas and Lady McIlwraith passed through Winton ontheir way to Ayrshire Downs. The whole of the inhabitants turned out tomeet them at the police water-hole (six miles from Winton) after dark. An address was read to Sir Thomas by the aid of a lamp on the road. Ihad the pleasure of having them as guests in my cottage. 

This was my first meeting with McIlwraith, and I was greatly struck withhis personality. He was a man, big and broad, both physically andmentally. Yet like most strong men, he was very head-strong andimpatient of obstruction to or criticism of his proposals. Neither couldhe understand that it was not given to every man to see quickly and toact promptly, attributes he possessed in a remarkable degree. 

At this time he had his Trans-continental Railway in mind, and hepatiently tried to get me to realise how closer settlement of thewestern country by smaller areas would obtain under it more than itwould, under the conditions by which it was then held, that is, in verylarge areas. The then short experience of residents of the westerncountry were conditions of drought, and I must admit that I thought hisideas were visionary. I have, however, lived to see the success of thegrazing farm system and the great improvements effected by undergroundwater supplies. In 1881, these were practically undreamt of. It islikely that McIlwraith could see farther into the future and dreamdreams unthought of by others. 

The publication of McIlwraith's scheme without doubt gave the hint toDutton, whose Land Act of 1884 was the inception of our present systemof grazing farms. It was unfortunate that the most bitter opponents ofMcIlwraith's scheme were of the squatting class, who generally resentedthe cutting up of the vast areas held by them. Had the squatters of theday not defeated his proposals, the grazing-farm system would probablyhave come into existence some years earlier than it did, and long agothe Gulf country would have had an overland railway. That country wouldbe maintaining a large and prosperous population instead of being, as itis now, almost deserted, and open to danger of occupation by colouredraces, and a menace to the safety of Australia. McIlwraith was a farsighted statesman, having the interests of Queensland at heart, and nota politician ready and willing to secure votes. 

In this year, Fitzmaurice's sight became affected, and he made a trip toSydney for expert advice. The whole business of the store and hotel wasnow thrown on my hands. It was found on Fitzmaurice's return, after anabsence of six months, that he was almost blind. By mutual arrangement, it was decided I should buy him out, and he left Winton one of thebest-liked men connected with its foundation, and as I found him, a goodfriend and an honest partner. The life of a hotel-keeper did not appealto me, so I found a purchaser for the hotel at a satisfactory figure, in Mr. W. B. Steele, of Aramac, who took delivery in April, 1882. 

William Brown Steele was a strange character. I believe he had qualifiedas a chemist, but followed the different gold rushes from California toVictoria, New Zealand, and Peak Downs, thence to Aramac and Winton. Hisdelight was to be accused of being an unscrupulous gambler--of the typedescribed by Bret Harte. I know he was fairly successful at a game ofcards, but this was due more to superior playing than to good luck ormanipulation. Still, if one who thought he was Steele's equal, proposeda game, the latter would ask:--"Shall we play the game, or all we know?"If the former was agreed to, the game was strictly honest. If the latterwas decided on, well, there was some wonderful playing on both sides. Inever knew of Steele playing with one inexperienced, or of transgressingthe rules of the game unless he was first challenged by his opponent. Then he did play all he knew, and that was something. For many yearsSteele ran a consultation on the Melbourne Cup which was wellpatronised, until the anti-gambling legislation, which drove Adams fromQueensland, suppressed it, but did not stamp out gambling. 

I arranged a partnership with Mr. W. M. Campbell, traveller for Stewartand Hemmant, of Brisbane. He and his wife and family were settled inFitzmaurice's house by the end of this year. 

The Bank of New South Wales had also opened a branch in a small buildingon the south side of Elderslie Street. Mr. Barnier was the firstmanager, succeeded afterwards by Mr. Alf. Thompson. 

Major Lewis, a veteran of the Indian Mutiny and Papal war, and a fineold Irish gentleman, arrived to succeed Mr. Johnstone as policemagistrate. One of the first cases brought before him was a claim forthe return of money, under the following circumstances:--I had receiveda letter from a man on Hamilton Downs Station, stating he was coming inwith the station dray for a load of rations, and was anxious to getmarried. He asked me to look for an eligible female who was willing toyoke up with him, and enclosed his photograph. Treating the matter as ajoke, I read the letter to the girls employed at the hotel. Thelaundress, a big strapping woman, said she was willing to negotiate withhim. On the man's arrival I took him round and introduced him. After acouple of days' courtship a date was fixed for the marriage. As anearnest of his good faith, the man gave the woman a cheque for £26 tobuy her wedding trousseau. When the day arrived she refused to carry outthe promise of marriage. The man came to me for advice, stating that shewould not have him, neither would she return any of the money advanced. 

I wrote Mr. Conran, the owner of Hamilton Downs Station, explaining thecause of the man's delay, and as the station was short of rations, Conran came in. He and I interviewed the woman, pointing out herdishonesty, but we were told to mind our own business. Mr. Conran thenwent to consult the P. M. The sergeant of police told Conran the P. M. Wasengaged, and asked could he do anything for him. Mr. Conran said he hadcome up about a girl appropriating a sum of money given as a conditionof marriage. The sergeant said, "An' shure, an' won't she have yez now. "Conran enjoyed the joke of being taken as the rejected lover. 

Major Lewis and the police eventually recovered a portion of the money, and the man returned sadder but much wiser, and I renounced for thefuture any desire to act as matrimonial agent. 

About October, 1882, we received a wire from Hughenden, advising thatsome teams which were carrying our loading had been caught in a floodedcreek, and the goods damaged. I immediately started for Wongalee Creek, about 25 miles the other side of Hughenden, or 170 miles from Winton. Ifound on my arrival the ground in the vicinity covered with drapery, boots, ironmongery, besides nearly empty salt bags, etc. , etc. , put outto dry. It appeared these teams had crossed the creek and camped on theflat below the bank. A heavy thunderstorm had fallen up the creek duringthe night and brought the water down a banker, submerging the waggons, and destroying about £1, 000 worth of goods. We had no redress againstthe carrier, the accident, or incident, being considered an act ofProvidence. The merchants assisted us by renewing our bills for fourmonths longer. 

In the same year, we ordered a large consignment of goods fromTownsville. It was a dry year, and the teams carrying them were stuck atHughenden. 

In those days the Government had not made the water tanks on the roadbetween Hughenden and Winton, and on the high, open downs countrypermanent natural water was not obtainable only at long distances. Hearing of the teams being stuck up, we immediately wired a duplicateorder to Rockhampton. The latter goods were despatched by rail toBogantungan (the then terminus of the central line), and loaded onteams. The drought conditions, although not so pronounced as in theHughenden district, also existed in the Central. These teams were alsoblocked. 

In about six months after the first order was given, the whole 14 teamswith the Rockhampton and Townsville goods arrived on the same day atWinton, and I was called upon to pay £2, 000 cash down for carriagealone; while our summer goods arrived in the middle of winter. 

Fortunately we were able to meet our liabilities. 

In 1882, we had a visit--and the first--from a clergyman of anydenomination. 

He asked me if there was a place in which he could hold service onSunday. I told him that the only place was the billiard-room at thehotel. I prepared it for the ceremony by draping a blue blanket over thetable, and I put a red one opposite over the cue rack, thinking it mighthelp him to put a little fire into his discourse. When all was ready, Iobtained the bullock bell from the kitchen. The Chinaman cook, who was asporting character, said:--"Wha for, nother raffle, all ri, put me downone pund. " He refused, however, to give the money when he learnt it wasfor a church. 

When the clergyman was leaving, we decided to present him with a purseof sovereigns in Campbell's house, and I was deputed to hand it to him. 

In making a short cut to the house I had to pass the hotel stables, intowhich a squatter in the orthodox breeches, boots and spurs, was riding. He called out:--"I say, Corfield, what are you wearing a coat for?" Ireplied, "There's a function on; I'm going to present these sovereignsto a parson. " He asked, "Any champagne?" I replied, "Whips of it. " Hethen said, "Hold on, till I put my horse in the yard, and I'll come withyou. " On reaching the house, I introduced him to the parson prior to thepresentation, and we had some champagne. With a few words I presentedthe purse of sovereigns, when we naturally concluded we would bethanked, but instead the parson said, "Let us pray. " We all then kneltto our chairs. Suddenly, as if from one in great pain, I heard the word"Ker-ist. " Thinking the parson had been bitten by a snake or something, I looked round, but he appeared quite at ease. I then saw over in thecorner the young squatter with blood oozing out of his pants. He had satupon his long-necked spurs. The parson went on with the prayer, butthose present were more occupied suppressing their laughter than inlistening to the parson's prayers. 

CHAPTER XI. 

In 1883, Judge Miller, with the present Mr. Justice Real as CrownProsecutor, opened the first District Court in Winton. Fred Riley andmyself had been put on the "Commission of the Peace, " and appearedbefore the Judge to be sworn in. We then decided that we should withoutdelay show that we were magistrates, and prepared to carry out ourduties. We found a good, hard-drinking man, and offered him tenshillings to spend in drink. He gladly accepted the offer, and shortlyafterwards we were asked by the police to sit on a case of drunkennessand disorderly conduct. Our man had kept to his agreement, and wasbrought before us. We severely reprimanded him for his conduct anddischarged him. Judge Miller hearing of it, frequently recalled the joketo my memory, and we had many a good laugh over it. 

Early in this year, Mr. Griffith (afterwards Sir Samuel) and Mr. Dickson(afterwards Sir James) made a tour of the north-west, and travelled bycoach from Hughenden to Winton. The party was detained a night atStack's public house, about midway between the two towns, whilst themailman rode over to Sesbania with the mail. Mr. Griffith here made theacquaintance of Schofield, who was managing a store near Stack's forCharlie Rowe. Stack's house was not an inviting place, so the twoMinisters spent the evening in Schofield's quarters. The latter wasshortly afterwards appointed as Government agent on board the "Hopeful. "The history of this vessel is well-known in the Law Courts ofQueensland. Messrs. Griffith and Dickson were treated to a wine party inWinton. There was but little enthusiasm shown at the meeting, themajority of those present being strong McIlwraithians. 

Mr. Fraser, the managing partner of Messrs. Baillie, Fraser and Donald, of Manuka Station, had been in the army, and had served through theIndian Mutiny. He was highly respected by all, but was not popularexcepting among those with whom he was intimate. They knew him to bevery hospitable and kind, and a thorough gentleman. He came of a highScottish family, and was proud that one of his ancestral relations hadhis head cut off for loyalty to his King. I remember being a silentlistener to the relation of some happenings which at one time or otheroccurred in Ireland. The postmaster was a man who, rather young inyears, appeared to have had some experiences. He was telling Fraser ofthe ill-feeling which was existent between two British regiments in atown somewhere in Ireland, while he was there. One was the 65th, anEnglish, and the other the 89th, an Irish regiment. It seems that thelatter had been formed from the North Cork militia, which, I understand, bore an unenviable reputation from their conduct during the rebellion in1798. The townspeople had a long memory of this, and in the disturbanceamongst the soldiers, supported the English regiment against their owncountrymen. Fraser listened to it all, and then said, "By jove, wasn'tit bitter; I was captain of a company of the 89th, and some of my menwere badly knocked about. " I thought it made the world very small tohear such incidents being related in the far west of Queensland. 

Now that we had two banks, four hotels, a chemist, saddler, besidesother branches of industry, we felt that we were being drawn perilouslywithin the influences of civilisation and its drawbacks. 

[Illustration: SIR THOMAS McILWRAITH]

The manager of one of the banks, who was deservedly popular owing to hisgenial character, the kind way in which he could refuse one anoverdraft, and then suggest quite friendly and cheerfully to theapplicant: "What do you think; shall we put the gloves on?" Thisgentleman had a very peculiar hobby, to attend the sick and dying, andto bury the dead. Some incidents connected with his hobby, are asfollows:--A tank sinker from Ayrshire Downs died in the hospital. Thatday a new warder and his wife, who came from beyond Boulia, were put on. The doctor's instructions were that any person dying of typhoid fever, as did the man in question, was to be taken out of the ward and buriedas quickly as possible. Immediately the man died, the wardsman wastaking the body straight into the morgue, after sending word to theblacksmith, who was also the undertaker, to come up, and remove the bodystraight away for burial. Some of the patients, seeing the body beingcarried out, verbally assisted the new wardsman with their suggestions. Thus, the dead man was to be washed, shaved, and have a clean shirt puton. It was late in the afternoon; the wardsman did not like handling thecorpse, so the story goes, that he got a bucket of water and a mop, andmopped the body down. This he left on the table in the morgue, andforgot all about the clean shirt or the shaving. There was anunderstanding between the police sergeant and the bank manager that asthere were no clergymen of any denomination in the town, the sergeantwould read the services for the Roman Catholics, and the manager for allothers. The undertaker-blacksmith would notify the reader required, andfunerals were carried out at any hour, day or night. The tank sinker'sfuneral was timed to leave the hospital about 12. 30 a. M. For some reasonthe bank manager attended this funeral. The body was then in the coffin, and a start made for the cemetery. There were some of the dead man'smates present, and the bank manager heard them complaining that it was ad----d shame to bury a man naked. When the funeral reached thegraveside, the idea struck the manager that, as he was wearing a clean, white shirt, it would be the proper thing to open the coffin, put hisshirt on the corpse, and this was done. The action gave great pleasureand satisfaction to the men present, who, as a mark of gratitude, onreturn to town, wished to knock up the public-house people and shoutdrinks for all hands. 

One night there was a funeral at which the manager was to read prayers. The undertaker in this case had a small cart, used as a hearse, drawn bya mule recently broken in, and not too quiet. As the funeral party waswalking to the cemetery in the dark, some one struck a match. This wastoo much for the mule, which bolted across the plain at the back of thecemetery. He reached the edge of a small gully and propped. The weightbehind, however, forced him over the bank. The coffin fell out, and thetop coming off, the body rolled out on the ground. After extricating themule, the body was put into the coffin again, and the top put on, thenails driven home with stones. As the mourners objected to the furtheruse of the mule, the party carried the body to the cemetery much to thedisgust of the undertaker. 

Going home from Winton one night after a spree, a boundary-rider fromAyrshire Downs got off his horse a few miles out, and fell asleep. Hewoke up some time in the night, fairly sober, and found his horse gone, so he started to walk, but having got off the road, perished midwaybetween the 20-mile and the Cockatoo dam, well-known places on thisroad. The bank manager was assisting in the search for the lost man, andhappened to be with the police when the body was found, which was buriedon the spot. The dead man's wife lived in Toowoomba, and as the managerhad been remitting money from her husband to her, he informed her of thelatter's death. She acknowledged the letter, and expressed a wish thatthe body might be dug up and brought into Winton for decent burial. Sheasked how long the body would have to be buried before the flesh wouldbe off the bones and the remains could be brought in. The doctor advisedit would be fully six months. At the end of this time the widow arrivedin Winton to carry out her desires. Early one Sunday morning the widow, accompanied by the bank manager and the undertaker, left town to exhumethe remains. The party had a white table-cloth in a red gin case withthe cover on to carry the bones. It was an extremely hot day as theparty reached the grave, and hobbled the horses out. The manager related"that he and the undertaker soon had the bones upon the cloth in a nicelittle heap. The widow examined each bone as it was laid down, and shemissed one of the knee-caps, so nothing would pacify her until it wasfound. This we did eventually by rubbing the soil between our hands andbreaking the lumps. It was now near dark. We had arranged for the priestto be at the cemetery by sun-down, and that the grave would be ready. When we arrived about 10 o'clock at night the priest and thegrave-digger had gone. I then suggested that we should take the bones inthe box to Lynett's hotel, but the landlady wouldn't hear of the remainsbeing left at the hotel. Eventually we left the box and the bones in thegrave. The priest came out the next morning, and having read theservice, the remains were buried decently, and the widow was happy. "

The manager of one of the stations had died at the North Gregory hotel. The body was immediately carried into the manager's private quarters, atthe rear of the business part of the bank. The accountant was seenshortly afterwards protesting against the room, which happened to behis, being used as a morgue. He is to this day certain that from thespot where the hand of the corpse struck the wall as it was being putdown, knocking may still be heard on the anniversary of the incident. This bank manager was possessed of great energy and perseverance, and abusiness capacity seldom met with. He was highly respected and extremelypopular with everybody high and low throughout the western country, buthe is now the head of one of our principal industries. I often wonder ifhe still has the inclination to bury people. 

Our firm had been supplying goods and spirits to a storekeeper atBoulia, whose P. N. 's for a considerable sum of money were not met. Earlyin 1884. I decided to go out to look into matters. I was accompanied bya Mr. Howard, who was on the look out for a hotel. On my arrival atBoulia I found that the storekeeper had erected a building as an hotelon a piece of land which he had made several promises to purchase. Ifound the owner, bought the land, and claimed the building erected uponit. This I considered as equal to the money owing to us. Thos. Lynett, of Winton, had started a branch store in Boulia, and had been supplyingthe same customer with goods on credit, having the building as security. When he heard that I had purchased the land and claimed the building, hewired to Brisbane to stop the sale. However, nothing came of it. I soldthe property to Mr. Howard, and it was not long before he was able towipe out his indebtedness. 

Mr. Eglinton, late P. M. In Brisbane, then held a similar appointment atBoulia. A race meeting, which included a hurdle race, was being held. Inthis race all the horses baulked at the jumps and delayed the running. It was then decided to let the races wait while the visitors had lunch, etc. The judge joined our party. It was a hot day, even for Boulia;refreshments were generous, and in demand. The judge, in common with thevisitors, was a thirsty soul. When we next turned our attention to thecourse, a race was being run, so the judge decided to get into the box. A grey and brown horse had negotiated the hurdles and were coming up thestraight neck and neck. When they passed the post the Judge decided thatthe piebald horse had won. During my stay at Boulia I camped, by theinvitation of Mr. Coghlan, the manager at Goodwood Station, just acrossthe Burke River from the township. Mr. Eglinton, P. M. , and Mr. Shaw, manager of Diamantina Lakes Station, were also guests, and we were gladto retire to this retreat after the uproarious happenings incidental towestern towns during race time. 

Before leaving, the P. M. Asked Mr. Shaw and myself, who were bothmagistrates, if we would take a "didemus potastatum" to Monkira, about100 miles down the river from Diamantina Lakes, and swear in Mr. Debney, the manager, as a Justice of the Peace. We consented; it was anexcuse for seeing more of the country, and for a longer outing. 

After a few days spent at the Lakes, we started with my team and buggy, accompanied by Mr. Shaw's little daughter. We reached Davonport Downs, then managed by Mr. McGuigan. He told us there were several very heavysand hills to negotiate, and offered the loan of a pair of staunch heavybuggy horses. He suggested leaving my horses to spell. I accepted theoffer. Shaw and myself took it in turns to drive. At one of these sandhills the horses stuck Shaw up, and refused, in spite of hispersuasions, to budge. After giving them a spell, Shaw suggested Ishould take the reins. I had prepared my whip with a new cracker, butfailed to start the horses. I then addressed the horses in the languageof bullock-drivers, and stood up in the buggy to more effectually usethe whip. The horses started, and I kept them going. Just then a smallvoice was heard from the back seat of the trap, "Mr. Corfield, will youplease remember there's a lady in the buggy. " Shaw and I immediatelyretired into our boots, but the horses gave no further trouble. 

At that time I think Monkira was the farthest station down the river. Mr. Debney had come from Adelaide. He and Mrs. Debney gave us a splendidreception. The governess to the family afterwards became Mrs. R. K. Milson, of Springvale, and her eldest son lately was married to MissMorgan-Reade, of Winton. On our return to Davonport Downs, we found Mr. McGuigan laid up with fever, so I took him into Winton. 

In November, 1884, Sir Thos. McIlwraith, who had been inspecting hisstations, passed through Winton, but while at Ayrshire Downs he receivednews of his father's death, and refused all demonstrations. I drove himto Vindex. On the road out I told him I contemplated leaving for Englandthe following year. He gave me many hints for my guidance; also aletter of introduction to his brother, William McIlwraith, in London. 

The western country was now suffering from a very severe and prolongeddrought which brought ruin to many men, and heavy loss to those whopulled through. Taking advantage of the dry spell, I had a small tankexcavated in my paddock. A heavy thunderstorm, averaging a little overtwo inches, fell over the town, and being anxious to learn if it had anywater, I asked two friends to walk with me to the tank. We plodded abouta mile in the heavy soil. I was satisfied with the result of myinspection; not so my companions, who lost their shoes in the boggyground, and heaped anathemas on me and my dam. 

Altogether their language on the return journey was of a very luridnature. 

This was the first rain for eleven months, and to celebrate it, Wintonheld carnival for three weeks, during which time no business of any sortwas attempted. The time was devoted to sports and jollifications. Abouttwo miles east and west of the town ran wire fences, the road passingthrough gates. The peculiarity of this storm was that no rain fellbeyond the fences. It was a strange sight to see green grass on one sideof the wires and outside perfectly bare. 

I have somewhere in this narrative alluded to lignum, and it may not beout of place at this juncture to describe what it is. Lignum is a smallshrub which grows in the dry-water courses. It is much used as walls ofhouses--timber and iron being very expensive--roofing sheds, and suchlike. It does not keep out the rain, but is sun proof. With thethermometer running well past the 100 deg. In the shade, a roasting hotwind such as obtains in the western country, there are many worsepleasures to be enjoyed in the west than a lignum shed and a canvas bagof cool rain water. Had old Omar known of the canvas water bag, he wouldprefer to sing its praises rather than those of a jug of wine. Blessingson the man who first thought of it. 

CHAPTER XII. 

In April, 1885, I left Winton by coach on my way to England. Mr. J. D. Wienholt, of Warenda Station, and Mr. J. B. Henderson, late HydraulicEngineer, were fellow passengers. About 10 miles from Muttaburra we weremet by a cavalcade of people on horse back and in buggies to meet Mr. Henderson. The coach having stopped, some bottles of champagne wereopened, and Wienholt and I were invited to join in. Mr. Hendersonaccompanied the procession to town. Later in the day we were invited tothe dinner to him, to celebrate the completion of the town dam and tank, which were still quite dry. Muttaburra had not had rain for nearly ayear. Mr. Henderson left us here to be conveyed by private buggy toAramac, where we again met. I travelled down the coast from Rockhamptonby the old "Keilawarra, " afterwards sunk in a collision. 

The Russian war scare was on, and passing Lytton we had to undergo astrict examination to prove that we were not spies. It can be imaginedwith what prayers a number of sunburnt, outback Queenslanders paraded tosatisfy the defence authorities that they were peaceful and law-abidingcitizens. I remained three days in Brisbane, the evenings of which Ispent at the Exhibition, which was frequented by ladies and gentlemenindulging in the pleasure of roller-skating. I resumed my journey toSydney, and left this city by train a few days later for Melbourne. Thiswas my first visit to the latter city, and I enjoyed perambulatingthrough its streets. I joined the s. S. "Sir John Elder" here, and sailedfor England. 

Passing through the Red Sea, we met the New South Wales contingentreturning from Suakim, where they had joined the Imperial troops, justtoo late to take any active part in the Soudan campaign. 

When we reached Lake Timsah, half-way through the Suez Canal, we weredetained because of a dredge having sunk in the Canal and blocked thechannel. A party from the ship, having its headquarters at Shepheard'sHotel, was formed to visit Cairo and the Pyramids. 

The dinner at 9 p. M. Was held in a quadrangle of the hotel. 

The after-dinner scene was very charming. Chinese lanterns were hung inthe trees, the ladies in evening dress, the officers of the ImperialArmy in mess dress of different colours. 

Among those present were Lord Wolseley and General Macpherson. 

Coming down the Pyramid of Cheops, I had an Arab holding each hand, anda boy with a gourd of water behind. The boy had unwound his cummerbundto place under my arms by which to steady me in jumping down from oneledge to the other. Half-way down I suggested a halt, when one of theArabs accosted me--"Which fella country you come from?" "America?"

"No!"

"England?"

"No!"

"Australia?"

"Yes!"

"Ah!" he said, "very good kangaroo, you!"

We visited all the places of interest, including the battlefield ofTel-eh-kebir. 

We reached our ship, which was still blocked in the Lake. The Frenchpeople in Ismailia sent their launches out to the ships, so we continuedputting time in going ashore every day and riding on donkeys. Theseanimals were generally called after beautiful women celebrities. Minewas called "Lillie Langtry. " When we got clear, 40 steamers wereblocked. Our ship led the procession through the Canal. There was onlyjust room for us to pass where the accident had happened, and when weleached Suez 200 ships, including several men-of-war, were awaiting ourarrival to pass south. 

We spent a day at Naples, and in time I arrived in Plymouth Sound inmid-summer, having left it 23 years before in mid-winter. As I hadaccepted an invitation to visit my cousin, Mr. S. P. Newbery, whoresided at Plympton St. Mary, six miles out from Plymouth, so I left theship. This relative was land steward to Lord Morley. He had beenselected to judge the cattle at the Royal Agricultural Show at Preston, Lancashire, and I accompanied him. The warm, genial weather added to myenjoyment. We took up our quarters at Blackpool, as there was noaccommodation to be had in Preston. The Prince of Wales (late KingEdward the VII. ) attended the show, and Mr. Newbery was appointed toshow him round. I followed as if in the Prince's retinue, and enjoyedthe novelty of the situation. Returning to Devonshire I spent a glorioustime keeping my cousin's horse in condition, and occasionally followingthe hounds. Whilst there I made a trip to the Isle of Wight, and waspresent in Fotheringham Church when Princess Beatrice was married toPrince Henry of Battenburg. I need hardly say I was not present byinvitation. 

During my stay at Plympton St. Mary, the 1886 elections were held, andmy relative being in politics a conservative, took an active part in thereturn of Sir John Kennaway (who died a few years ago, father of theHouse of Commons). Mr. Newbery was chairman of many of his meetings atwhich I attended. A polling booth was at the school house at Plympton, and on the day of the poll, I was much amused to see gentlemen'scarriages being driven to the poll with the coachmen and footmen inlivery, and men in their working dress stepping out to vote. Presentlya Devonshire farmer drove up in his donkey cart. I noticed the donkeywas dressed in the Liberal colours. The farmer recorded his vote, andcame out on the porch, when he was accosted by another farmer, thus:--

"Wull! Farmer Symes, you been an' voted?"

"Yus, " he replied. 

"Wull, but how's this, I allus thocht ye was a Conservative?"

"So I be. "

"But look at yer dunkey ther' all dress'd up in the Liberal colours?"

"Ah!" he said, "I'm a man, but that's an ass. "

On returning to London I delivered my letter of introduction to Mr. William McIlwraith, by whose kindness I met many leading businesspeople, as well as Lord Randolph Churchill, who appeared to be built upof fine live wires. 

I left England in May, 1886, taking my passage through Cook and Son, _via_ America. From New York I made trips to Baltimore, Philadelphia, and Washington. After a week or so I joined the overland train forAlbany, visiting Niagara Falls, and other interesting places in thatlocality. Going on to Chicago, I spent a few days visiting the meatworks. Wonderful energy had been shown in re-building the city after thedestructive fire which happened a short time previously. From Denver Itravelled by the narrow gauge "Denver and Rio Grande" line to Utah. HereI spent a week amongst the Mormans, who are a remarkably industrious andenergetic, as well as peculiar people. One of the elders introduced meto a daughter by his tenth wife. I had frequent dips in the Salt Lake, in company with the Mormans, their wives and families. The water of thelake is so buoyant that one might throw up one's hands and remainupright. The body would sink only to the chest. 

The trains were crowded with men belonging to the grand army of theRepublic who were going to San Francisco, where the 20th anniversary ofpeace, after the Civil War was to be held. The Americans were all veryfriendly to me. I was invited to join them, and as I was much sunburnteasily passed as one of the veterans. 

I took up my quarters at the Palace Hotel, which occupied about fouracres of ground. I believe it was at that time the largest hotel in theworld. I managed to get a room at four and a-half dollars a day. When Ientered it I could see nothing but "Corfield. " There were mirrors allround excepting where the furniture stood. In the quadrangle, just belowmy balcony, a band played continuously. 

'Frisco was _en-fete_. Arches were erected in Market Street, and buntingwas flying everywhere. I spent a week in the city, having for acompanion a young doctor, for whom I had brought a parcel from hisparents in England. He obtained a _locum tenens_, and gave up the timeto pilot me round. We visited every point of interest, including theChinese gambling dens, in and around 'Frisco, which has a veryinteresting history dating from the time of the Spanish missions. 

On the trip across the Pacific we had a nice complement of passengers. Aday at Honolulu was spent enjoying the beauty spots. We tried to call onthe "King, " but as he was enjoying a carousal, he could not receive us. We called at Apia, in the Samoan Islands, and when crossing to NewZealand, we noticed that the sea was covered by what appeared to bepumice stone. On our arrival at Auckland we heard of the eruption ofMount Tarawera. Mr. Rutherford, a gentleman well-known throughout N. S. W. And West Queensland, the principal of Cobb and Co. In Australia, was apassenger with his daughter from 'Frisco. I accompanied them during thethree days the boat remained in Auckland. Shortly after our arrival atthe Star Hotel, Mr. Rutherford, who had picked up a "Queenslander, " saidto me, "Who is driving the coach from Muttaburra to Winton?" I said, "Macpherson. " "Well, " he said, "he won't drive it long when I get back. ""Why?" I asked. "Well, here is a paragraph in this paper, which says hecapsized the coach in Elderslie Street, opposite your office. "

We duly reached Sydney in August, 1886, and after spending a week there, I sailed for Rockhampton, and proceeded to Peak Downs Station, which mybrother-in-law, Edmund Casey, was then managing for the Messrs. Fairbairn. I found he had broken in to harness for me two Arab ponieswhich would trot their 12 miles an hour. I trucked these and a buggy Ihad purchased in Sydney to Alpha, the then terminus of the Centralrailway line, where my other horses--brought from Winton--met me. Goodrains had fallen in July, thus breaking up the long drought which hadcommenced three years before. I had plenty of grass and water all theway to Winton. I camped a night at Mount Cornish, and met Mr. And Mrs. Edkins for the first time for 20 years, having last met them on theFlinders River when they were on their honeymoon trip, as I have alreadyrelated. They now had quite a large family, and made me very welcome. Iarrived at Winton driving four grey horses, the two Arabs Mr. Caseybroke in for me being splendid leaders. 

A few evenings after my arrival I was the guest at a smoke concert givenby the Dramatic Club in Steele's hall in my honour. Mr. Dodd, postmaster, the president of the club, was in the chair. There was somefine speeches, and a splendid display of wit and repartee. On enteringthe room, my attention was attracted by the drop-scene on the stagerepresenting the Catskill Mountains in America. The members had given arendering of "Rip Van Winkle, " previous to my leaving for England. Thescene was a daub of colours with a hole cut in the sky, to which a pieceof calico had been affixed at the back to represent either the sun orthe moon, I forget which. On returning thanks to the toast of my health, I related many of my experiences since I left them in 1885, butapparently I made a hit when I described my sailing up the Hudson Riverfrom New York. Seeing a mountain in the distance, with numerous houseshere and there, the afternoon sun shining and throwing different shadesover mountain and river, I inquired from a fellow passenger if he couldtell me the name of that beautiful mountain? He replied the "CatskillMountains. " I said, "Are you sure?" "Sure enough, " he said. "Why?""Well, because I have seen a painting of it in Steele's Hall at Winton, and it's not a bit like that. " The laughter that followed easily made mefeel at home with the company during the remainder of a very pleasantevening. Dr. Hawthorne made a great hit in his speech in explaining theanomaly of a bashful Irishman. 

I found many changes had taken place during my seventeen months'absence. The Schollicks' had left Oondooroo, which had become theproperty of Messrs. Ramsay Brothers and Hodgson, with Mr. M. F. Ramsayas manager. 

Winton also had grown quickly. The _Winton Herald_ newspaper, with Mr. Maxwell as proprietor, was issued as a weekly. 

Roller skating was the rage. I remember one afternoon when passing theCourt House, I went over to see what was causing a noise there. Lookingthrough the window I saw all the benches stacked on one side, and thepolice magistrate practising on skates. He had a pillow strapped at theback of his neck, and another on a lower portion of his body forbuffers. He stumbled, and I saw the use for the pillows. 

The growth of grass in 1886 occasioned extensive bush fires in the endof this and the beginning of the following year. A very large fireoccurred at Vindex. I called for volunteers to join in putting it out. The call was readily responded to, and I headed a large party composedof all classes of men to assist the station hands. By our combinedefforts we succeeded in putting the fire out, but not until it had burntmany miles of country. In those days there was no ill-feeling betweenlabour and capital, or employers and employee. All united to work forthe common good. Subsequently the same generous help was extended toElderslie and Ayrshire Downs Stations. 

In 1887, I can say the residents of Winton were as if all were of onefamily. They made their own pleasures, at which all classes werewelcome, and invitations were unnecessary. This proved one of thehappiest times of my life. 

The new owners of Oondooroo were developing their property regardless ofcost. Amongst the many innovations introduced by them, but which nowhave become necessaries, was the system of private telephone lines overthe run. In connection with this system was an ingenious idea, somethinglike a compass card, by means of which bush fires were located, andwhich saved a great deal of unnecessary work and riding. With theexception of Norman, the youngest, who went "west" in France during thelate war, I believe the Ramsays are still in the land of the living. Itis a pity that Queensland is the loser by not having more men of thesame high character as the Ramsay's, of Oondooroo. 

In November, 1887, John Bartholomew, who was travelling manager for Cobband Co. , asked me--as their Winton agent--to accompany him to Croydon, to which place he was bound in connection with some coach accident whichhad occurred in that district, and I accepted the invitation. Wetravelled by coach to Hughenden 150 miles, thence down the Flinders toCloncurry, distant 265 miles, and on to Normanton, 240 miles. 

This latter portion was completed under great difficulties, the earlywet season necessitating our working day and night to keep contracttime. On our way we saw where a bullock-dray loaded with explosives hadbeen blown up. How the explosion happened was never known, but after itoccurred nothing remained of the bullocks; some of the iron work of thedray was picked up a mile away. 

Before we reached Normanton we were reduced to three horses, and therains having been heavier, we were continually digging the coach out ofbogs. At dark one evening I walked on to lessen the load, and oncrossing a plain I saw a log on the side of the road on which I decidedto have a rest. I sat on it in the dark, and feeling something move, Iput my hand down on the cold, clammy tail of a snake. His lordshipevidently had his head in a hole, or might have bitten me. The shockgave me increased energy, and I reached the groom's change at 10. 30 p. M. The coach arrived an hour later. We were all thoroughly done up, and hada supper of stewed galahs. The stage-keeper was without flour. 

When we arrived at Normanton we were in a sad plight from our roughexperiences. The next day Bartholomew and myself were the onlypassengers on the coach for Croydon. Unusually heavy rain had fallenduring the night, and the road was bad. We reached Creen Creek, half-wayto Croydon, that evening. Here we met the coach from that place on itsway to Normanton. The driver of this coach gave a bad account of theroad ahead. It was decided that Bartholomew and the driver should ride, and pack the mail on horses to Croydon. Mr. Bartholomew arranged withthe other driver to take me back to Normanton. The coach was full, and Ihad to sit on the splash board with my legs hanging over the two muleswhich were in the pole. We had not gone far before we got into a bog. The three horses in the lead were floundering so much that we had totake them out, but the mules stood quietly up to their bellies in thesoft ground. The passengers were all males and turned to. By leveringthe wheels on to the cushions, we got the coach on hard ground again. This happened so often that I decided to walk on. I came upon a bullockteam loaded with timber, bogged. With it was Fred Shaw, who at one timewas connected with Cobb and Co. , and who was taking the timber toCroydon for building. I offered my help to get the waggon out of the bogby assisting the driver on the off-side with a whip. We succeeded aftersome time, but not without the use of some language. 

In soft ground bullocks will stand up to their middle chewing their cudwhilst a clear passage is being cut through for the wheels, and if oncegot to pull together they will invariably get through. Mules arepractically the same, hence Cobb and Co. Using them. The moment a horseloses his footing he commences to plunge about, and so turns the groundinto liquid in which he has no footing. 

The coach camped at a wayside place that night. I walked on in themorning; the coach overtook me eight miles from Normanton, into which Irode, and was glad to reach the hotel and comfort once more. 

During the week spent in Normanton waiting the return of Mr. Bartholomew, and also the arrival of a steamer, I made the acquaintanceof Mr. Forsyth, who was the resident manager for Burns, Philp and Co. , and later on sat in Parliament for many years. 

At Thursday Island there was no jetty, so our steamer anchored out inthe channel. Here Mr. (now Sir Robert) Philp joined us from a tour ofinspection of the company's branches. He had not long before beenreturned at a bye-election for Musgrave. When leaving, he and I boardedthe steamer in a boat belonging to the company, with a black crewdressed in white shirts, which gave them quite a picturesque effect. Onreaching Cairns, Mr. Philp included me in his party to go by rail toRedlynch, the then terminus of the line. The construction of the line upthe range towards the Barron Falls was then going on, but we were unableto view the Falls. 

On our trip down, Mr. Philp mentioned that the McIlwraith party wouldrequire a representative for the Gregory in place of the late Mr. Thos. McWhannell. He hinted to me that probably my name as successor would beacceptable to Sir Thomas McIlwraith. I replied, "I know nothing ofpolitics, and have no desire to take them on. "

I remained over Christmas in Townsville, and arrived in Winton tocelebrate the new year of 1888. Election news was the absorbing topic. 

I asked Sir Thomas McIlwraith by telegram who was the party's accreditedcandidate, giving certain names which were spoken of. He replied, "Knownothing about the gentlemen mentioned; why don't you stand yourself?"Mr. J. B. Riley, of Vindex, happened to be in town. I showed him thewire, which he took, and went away. 

In the beginning of March, Mr. Riley, accompanied by others, presentedme with a requisition to become the McIlwraith candidate. This wassigned by nearly all the inhabitants of Winton and pastoralists of thedistrict. When handing it to me, Riley said, "Now, I give you two hoursto consult your partner, and give me your decision. " After consultationwith Mr. Campbell, my partner, I assented to the request, and called ameeting of the electors, which I addressed in the Court House in April, 1888. I then started in my buggy alone to hold meetings at the differentstations. At Elderslie one was held at the woolshed, where I had a baleof wool as the platform. At Vindex, the meeting was held in theblacksmith's shop, I standing on the anvil block of wood, and so on. 

Finally, when the nomination day came round, I was the only candidate. So I was returned unopposed. 

During the Easter holidays in April, 1888, a cricket match, Country _v. _Town, was held at Vindex Station. At any rate, this was the name underwhich invitations were given by the Rileys, Chirnsides, Ramsays andBostocks to the townspeople of Winton, as an expression of the goodwilland friendship which then existed among all classes throughout thedistrict. 

Vindex was noted for its hospitality at all times, but it now excelleditself. 

A lot of school-boys could not have enjoyed themselves more than did themany grey heads among the company. Woe betide any one, host or guest, who shirked, or did not join in the fun. A visitor from town tried to doso by fixing a nice quiet camp far away from the hurly burly. Hisactions were observed by the postmaster, who put his bull dog in thevisitor's bed, instructing the animal not to allow any one into it. Whenthe visitor who shirked, tried to retire for the night the bull dogtackled him, tore his pyjamas off, and left him as a subject for muchraillery. 

One visitor who had arrived from Rockhampton the previous day, was foundwandering in the vicinity of the big dam, where he said he was enjoyingthe salt ozone. 

The country won the match easily, but I think they took advantage of thetown. 

This will be understood from the fact that a dozen bottles of whisky, and a two-gallon jar of the same medicine were brought on the ground forrefreshments. The town went into bat first, and by the time theirinnings was finished, so were the refreshments. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

When returning from the Court House with my £20 deposit after thenomination, I was way-laid by Sergeant Murray, of the police, who inoily sentences of congratulation suggested that I should give half ofthe money towards the erection of a Roman Catholic church, then about tobe built. I succumbed to his flattery, although my own clergyman wasdaily expected, and my name was coupled with Father Plormel, theresident priest, on a piece of paper, and inserted in a hole in one ofthe blocks underneath the building. The church has been enlarged since, and I heard that the paper with our names, and those of the members ofthe committee, was found in a good state of preservation. This SergeantMurray was a man of great dry humour and shrewdness. 

One day I was speaking to him, when one of two partners in a racehorsecame up, and told us he and his partner had a dispute; the latter hadthe horse in his possession, in Lynett's stable, the door of which wassecured with a padlock and trace chain. Murray asked him, "Why don't yelock him up?"

"Hang it all, the horse is locked up already; what is the good of mylocking him up?"

"Well, as your partner has the horse locked up you can't get him out, and if you lock the horse up, then your partner can't get him out. "

"Oh, I see, " said the owner, and immediately bought the lock and chain. 

This advice was so novel to us that we all visited the stables and wereamused to see two locks and trace chains to prevent the removal of thehorse by either partner. It proved a common sense way of settling thedispute in a few hours, and the partners became better friendsafterwards. 

On reaching Brisbane to attend the House, I interviewed Sir ThomasMcIlwraith, who, after congratulating me on my return, said:--"I intendto put down an artesian bore at Winton. " I asked if I might make use ofthis. He replied, "Well, it rests on me and my party being returned tooffice. "

I felt certain that this would follow, so I wired to Winton that I hadbeen promised an artesian bore. The town was painted red on the news. 

At the opening of Parliament, Sir Samuel Griffith, seeing 45 members tohis 27, resigned the Premiership, and Sir Thomas McIlwraith was sent forby Sir Anthony Musgrave. On the House meeting again within a few days, Mr. Albert Norton was unanimously elected speaker, and Sir ThomasMcIlwraith asked for two months to construct his ministry. This wasgranted. 

I returned to Winton, and on arrival was accorded a typical westernreception for obtaining the promise of an artesian bore for the town. Atthis stage it was only a promise, but the residents had such faith inMcIlwraith that they accepted it as a fact. Parliament assembled in Julywith Sir Thomas McIlwraith as Premier. 

In the early part of the year a bush fire broke out on the road toAyrshire Downs, and parties were organised to extinguish it. The policepreceded us, and noticing fires springing up further on, decided to pushahead to ascertain the cause. They saw a man near the lighted grass witha box of matches in his hand, and arrested him on suspicion. Whenbrought before the Police Magistrate, the man was charged under theEnglish Act against arson. 

Through correspondence with the Attorney-General, it was learnt that theEnglish Act applied to artificial, and not to natural, grasses. Theoffender was discharged with a caution, as the evidence was really onlycircumstantial. 

Shortly afterwards he was caught red-handed firing the grass on WarendaStation, on his way to Boulia. He was brought before the Bouliajustices, who sentenced him to three months' imprisonment under the"Careless Use of Fire Act. " This was the maximum penalty that could beinflicted. On completion of his term the grass-burner was liberated, andvowed he would burn the whole of the d----d squatters out. 

The pastoralists hearing of it, put men to watch him through theirrespective runs. 

I returned to Brisbane with the intention of defeating his designs. Oninterviewing McIlwraith, he advised me to see Mr. Thynne (who was thenSolicitor-General), and explain matters to him, adding:--"Thynne willdraft a clause for you in the 'Injuries to Property Act. ' You can bringin the Bill for the Amendment yourself. " I did so, and found I wassaddled with an amendment of an Act of Parliament without any previousknowledge of procedure. However, through the kindness of Mr. Bernays(the clerk of Parliament), I was instructed in this, and successfullycarried through the second reading of the amendment to the Act. 

Under this a man found burning natural grass may be prosecuted under the"English Act against Arson, " which meant a maximum of 14 years'imprisonment. 

In committee, Sir Samuel Griffith suggested I should insert a clausewhereby it could be tried at a District Court, and so prevent witnesseshaving to attend a Supreme Court, held on the coast. The Bill, with thisaddition, went through committee. I was informed by Mr. Archer, M. L. A. For Rockhampton, that this was the first occasion in Queensland for amember to navigate a Bill through the House in his first Parliamentaryyear. 

I thought I had completed my work with the Bill, but was surprised whenMr. Bernays asked me whom I had selected to take it through the Council. I asked the Hon. William Aplin to pilot it through, and the amendment tothe "Injuries to Property Act" was assented to on the 23rd of October, 1888. 

On the second evening after my arrival I sauntered in the BotanicGardens to kill the time to dinner at 7 p. M. Being a stranger, I wasignorant that the Gardens were closed at 6 p. M. I noticed that the fewpeople I had seen on entering had entirely disappeared. As the dinnerhour approached, I went to the gate and found it locked, as were theother gates I tried to pass through. Continuing my walk, I found anopening in the hawthorne hedge, which separated the Gardens from theDomain, in which Government House was then situated. I crawled through, and when I reached the lodge gates, I was asked by a policeman stationedthere, if I had been to Government House?

I said, "No. "

"Then where did you come from, my friend?"

"From the Gardens. "

"And how did you get here?"

I then explained the circumstances. 

"Where do you belong?"

"Winton. "

"What's your name?"

"Corfield. "

"Yes, is that so? What are you?"

"I am one of the new members of Parliament. " Then the blarney came out. 

"Pass on, Mr. Corfield, your face would carry you anywhere, sir. "

And so ended the incident. 

In 1888, £50, 000 was put on the Estimates for sinking artesian wells, and a contract entered into with a Canadian company to sink 7, 500 feetat certain specified places. Wellshot Station was selected as one, toencourage private enterprise, to try for water at great depths. 

When at Winton, early in 1889, I was handed a telegram from Mr. Henderson, the Hydraulic Engineer, advising me that the sinking of thewell at Wellshot had to be abandoned, and as carriers were notprocurable at Barcaldine to take the plant to Winton, it had beendecided to send it to Kensington Downs. 

I immediately called a public meeting, and laid the matter before it. The meeting decided that I should go to Barcaldine the followingmorning. Owing to accidents to the coach, and want of sobriety atseveral of the coach stages, we were very much behind time in arrival. Ifound that I could obtain carriers to take the plant to Winton at areasonable price, and wired the Engineer, but, although I remained aweek in Barcaldine, I did not get even an unsatisfactory reply from thatofficer. 

I now received a hint that there were influences at work to prevent theplant going to Winton, and to send telegrams through another place. Iarranged a long explanatory wire to Sir Thomas McIlwraith, to be sentfrom . . . . The operator at that place cutting off Barcaldine while themessage was being sent, and the following day I was authorised by theengineer to arrange with carriers for the transport of the plant toWinton. 

It was very pleasant to witness the chagrin of the local people whenthey learnt how their engineering was defeated. 

I learnt now that some Brisbane ladies did not possess politeness, asone of them sat on my hat when it was on my head, and did not apologise. It happened in this way. In those days the Brisbane trams were drawn byhorses. I wished to go to Ascot. When near the Custom House I saw atwo-decker car just leaving. A lady was mounting the steps to gain aseat on the top. I ran and caught the car, following the lady up thesteps. At the turn of the road the driver gave the horses the whip, theyjumped forward, the sudden jerk caused the lady to lose her balance andher grip of the hand-rail. She sat on the hat on my head. The article, ahard felt, was pressed down with her weight. The sides opened up, andthe rim fell down and became fast over my nose. I saw stars, but not thelady's face. The conductor assisted to dislodge the hat from my nose, and I left the car to purchase a new hat. Probably, I saved the lady'slife, but she continued her way to the top, apparently treating theaccident as an every-day occurrence. I was unable to make a claim fordamages to my hat or self respect. 

Mr. Tozer (the then Home Secretary), was a lover of deep-sea fishing, and I frequently accompanied him in his excursions. One Friday, when theHouse was not sitting, I accepted an invitation to join him in a trip toa new fishing ground. I joined the "Otter" at the Queen's Wharf at 2p. M. Our party comprised Captains Pennefather and Grier, John Watson, M. L. A. , and Messrs. W. H. Ryder, A. A. McDiarmid, Primrose and myself, besides the officers and crew. We cruised along Moreton Island andcaught sufficient fish for our tea, after which we retired to our bunks, and the steamer made for the Tweed Heads. About 3 a. M. , we were awakenedby the cry of "Fish Oh!" On reaching the deck we found the officers andcrew hauling in schnapper as fast as they could bait their hooks. Wewere all soon engaged in the same sport. Each line had four hooks on, and the fish were so plentiful that often when a line was pulled upwith, as one thought, one big fish on it, there would be three or four, some hooked through the eye, others by the tail. We fished until 8 a. M. , and found on counting we had 1, 100 fish aboard. Tozer had caught thehighest single catch of 155, whilst mine, the smallest number, was 79. The sailors cleaned as many as they could on our return. When oppositethe South Passage we sent a boat to the Lighthouse to wire Brisbane forany person wanting fish to meet the boat at the wharf, and to bring bagswith them. Many did so, but all could not be taken away, and a quantitywas dumped into the river. This was the record catch of the season, andI have never heard of it being beaten. 

At this time, and for a few years afterwards, I had as partner in asmall pastoral property, a Mr. Wm. Booth. He was said to have been mixedup with some troubles connected with Irish affairs, and that the name hewent under was assumed. Whether this was so or not, I found him to be afine, straight-forward man, and was greatly affected when in 1894 hischarred remains were found on the run. The mystery of his death remainsundiscovered. On his death I wound up the pastoral partnership, andplaced the value of Booth's interest in the hands of the Curator ofIntestate Estates. Every effort was made to discover his relatives, butso far, I believe, his estate remains unclaimed. 

To those interested in constitutional law, the Kitt's case, whichoccurred in 1888, may prove interesting. This incident happened inconnection with a pair of boots, but from it was obtained the decisionthat the Governor should follow the advice of his ministers on mattersnot affecting the authority of the Crown. It was laid down that theywere responsible for giving the advice, not he for accepting it. Theincident was a small matter to define a very important point. 

I think it was about this time that the police were called upon to actin opposition to the Naval Forces of the State, under the followingcircumstances. The Naval Commandant of the time had a disagreement withthe Minister administering the Navy, and ordered the two war vessels, the "Paluma" and "Gayundah" to put to sea, contending he was under thecontrol of the Admiral in charge of the station, and defied theMinister. Steam was up on the vessels, when a rather large body ofpolice, fully armed, was marched down to the Botanic Gardens, and linedthe river banks ready to fire on the ships if they were moved. Meanwhile, the wires were at work. The Admiral disclaimed control overthe vessels, as it was a time of peace, and the Commandant retreatedfrom the stand he had taken. The matter quietened down, but theCommandant shortly afterwards retired from the service of the State. 

Mr. W. Little, more popularly known on northern goldfields as BillyLittle, represented the electorate of Woothakata in the Assembly. Whenspeaking on the railway which it had been decided should start fromCairns to Herberton, he argued, "S'help me G----, Mr. Speaker, they arebuilding a railway at Cairns over a mountain, down which a crow couldn'tfly without putting breeching on. " The simile convulsed the House, butdid not affect its decision. 

During this session I could not but admire the patience and courtesywith which Sir Samuel Griffith treated all, even his opponents, after heonce expressed himself on a measure. Time and again he would point outdefects, which his legal mind detected in the wording of Bills, butwhich were not perceptible to the ordinary lay mind. 

In 1889, when the Estimates were being formed, Sir Thomas McIlwraithinsisted that £40, 000 should be put on for building a Central RailwayStation in Ann Street, Brisbane. His colleagues dissented, holding theview that the then existing station would serve for a generation, orlonger. McIlwraith resigned the premiership, but retained the office ofVice-President of the Executive Council. 

Mr. B. D. Morehead succeeded him as Premier, but there were no otherchanges in the personnel of the Cabinet. 

During the recess of 1890, I left Winton in March, after a good, wetseason, to make a tour of my electorate, visiting the townships andstations throughout the district, and going close to Lake Nash, over theborder of the Northern Territory. 

I held meetings at the places visited, covering a distance of 1, 600miles, yet I was unable to visit the whole district. 

At Glenormiston, one of the stations visited, the blacks had justreturned from the Mulligan River, where they had procured their season'ssupply of "Pituri. " This is obtained from a small bush, and whenprepared for chewing, has an effect similar to opium. The "pituri" ismuch prized by the blacks. It is prepared for use by the seeds beingpounded up and mixed with gidya ashes, which the gins chew until itobtains the proper consistency. It then resembles putty, and when notbeing used as chewing gum is carried by the blacks round their ears. Ifthe native offers one a chew it is a sign of friendship and hospitality. This friendship was offered me, but declined with thanks. I obtained asmall bagful of the seeds, intending to give them to Mr. Bailey, Curatorof the Brisbane Gardens, but I made other use of it. I was compelled tomake easy stages on account of the heavy pulling. The season wasbitterly cold; camping on the open downs with no shelter was notpleasant. 

The distance from Boulia to Springvale is 80 miles, the only trafficalong it being the pack horse of the mailman once a week. One of theplaces I camped at was known as Elizabeth Springs. This spring is acircular hole of about three feet in diameter, in which warm water iscontinually bubbling up. The overflow runs into Spring Creek, and runsfor 15 miles, emptying into a large hole opposite the head station. Apeculiarity of this spring is, if one jumps into it, the force of thewater causes the body to rebound like a rubber ball, and small particlesof sand coming up with the water causes a stinging sensation. The depthof the spring is unknown. 

About 40 yards from this spring there is another hole, the water ofwhich is quite cold, and of an inky colour. This hole has attributesopposite to the other, that is--a body will sink quickly in its water. The blacks have a tradition that a gin jumped into it, and was neverseen again. These springs are on Springvale run. 

On arriving at the station, I found Mr. Milson was out mustering, butMrs. Milson, who remembered me at Monkira some six years before, made mevery comfortable. I left the following morning to cover the 37 miles toDiamantina Lakes Station. When I reached the Gum Holes, on the boundaryof the two runs, I decided to camp. Mr. Milson turned up here, and fromhim I learnt that the Diamantina River, which was about seven milesahead of me, was uncrossable, and that it was running about four mileswide. He instructed me that when I reach the river, I was to go to ahigh ridge two miles back, and make a large bonfire at night. I arrivedat the river the following day, when my man and I employed ourselves thewhole afternoon in getting wood, which was scarce and some distanceaway. The closer timber had been used by the mailman to attract theattention of the station people in flood time, as we were to do. 

The station was about eight miles from the ridge, and we had greattrouble during the night to keep the fire burning. The next afternoonMr. Shaw, the manager, came across in a canvas boat, and camped thenight with us. It was arranged I should return with him in the boat andleave the man with the horses, as it was impossible to cross them. Wewere out of meat, so Mr. Shaw promised to send some to the man thefollowing day. We started on our four-mile pull, Shaw with the sculls, and I in the stern to steer the canoe. In the shallow water between thechannels we had to be very careful, as patches of lignum were showingabove the water, and our boat being only canvas, a slight prick of thelignum would perforate it. However, we made the crossing safely, andarrived at the station at sun-down. I was very glad to get comfortablequarters once more, and Mr. And Mrs. Shaw and their family treated meright royally. 

After a stay of five days we found the water had gone down and leftseveral islands visible between the channels. When the flood allowed westarted, taking a long, strong piece of rope, provisions, and about tenblack fellows. Shaw and I paddled the boat containing the rope andprovisions. The black boys swam the channels, and carried the boatacross the islands, where we walked. We arrived at my camp in theafternoon, and prepared for an early start on the morrow. Whilst I wasaway a mob of travelling cattle had come to the camp. The men had killeda beast, and were making a boat of the hide to carry their saddles andprovisions across. The mosquitoes that night were something to beremembered, and my man looked as if he had measles. 

We had a good breakfast at daylight, and then commenced crossing in thefollowing manner:--Some of the boys would wade into the water until itwas up to their waist. I would then drive the buggy and four horses upto them, unharness the latter, putting the harness in the boat to berowed to dry land. The boat would then return for the provisions andevery movable article in the buggy. The horses were then swam over, after which the rope was attached to the axle of the buggy and run alongthe pole, a half-hitch being tied at the point. When all were across, and the rope brought over by the boat, all hands would pull the buggyacross. It would, of course, soon disappear beneath the water, and ateach disappearance I wondered if I should see it again. Had the polecaught in a stump, the probability was that it or the rope would break. However, we got it safely across the channels, which varied in depth upto 25 feet of water. It was quite dark when we reached the station, alltired out. The black boys behaved splendidly, so I gave them the"pituri" intended for Mr. Bailey. This gift they prized far more thanmoney or tobacco. The next evening I held a meeting at the station, andresumed my journey up the river the day following. Travelling was noweasy, the road being good, with plenty of grass and water for my horses. Meeting one's constituents in a western electorate is not a short, pleasant picnic. 

A rather serious crisis arose during the early part of this session(1890). McIlwraith introduced a measure to levy a tax on all woolexported over the border to New South Wales and South Australia. 

The intention of the bill was to divert the trade of southern andsouth-western Queensland to the Queensland Railways. The pastoralists ofthose districts obtained supplies, and sent their wool from and to thesouthern Colonies, where the rates were lower than those charged overthe Queensland lines. 

McIlwraith's argument was that Queensland was heavily taxed for theconstruction and maintenance of these lines; that this Colony was alsoincurring excessive expenditure for administrative purposes, and if thepastoralists would not give Queensland the necessary revenue towardsthese services, it should be forced from them. 

The bill provoked heated arguments from McIlwraith's supporters. TheOpposition looked on with some interest, anticipating a Governmentdefeat. The bill passed its second reading by the casting vote of theSpeaker. I voted with the Government. McIlwraith promptly tendered hisresignation, but was induced by Sir Henry Norman, the then Governor, toreconsider this. McIlwraith said he would reintroduce the bill incommittee, and make the recalcitrant members swallow it. He didreintroduce it, those previously against it voted for it, and it wascarried by a majority. Those members who were compelled to stultifythemselves did not forgive the Premier, and showed their resentment whenthe opportunity arose. 

The money collected by the tax was utilised in improving the main roadsto the railway, and when I was in that district some years afterwards Isaw these cleared two chains wide through the affected districts. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

In 1889, the Morehead Government had put on the Estimates £1, 000, 000 forunspecified railways. This the Opposition, led by Sir Samuel Griffith, strongly opposed. The sitting developed into a stonewall of 96 hours'duration. The Government withdrew the item at 10 p. M. On a Saturdaynight. Previous to its introduction, I had paired for the session withan Opposition member, as I was anxious to return home to review mybusiness operations, and did not suspect any party measures. 

At the opening of the 1890 session, I caught a very severe cold inBrisbane, which developed into "La Grippe, " and I was confined to myroom for seven weeks. During this time the Morehead Governmentintroduced a "Property Tax, " which met with strong opposition fromMcIlwraith--who was still in the Cabinet--and his supporters, of which Iwas one. Morehead carried his proposals by two. He felt that thismajority did not justify his continuing in office, so he retired. Thecoalition between Griffith and McIlwraith followed. Both knights offeredme a position in the Cabinet as Honorary Minister, but as I was to beconsidered as a Central member, I declined the honour. The Houseadjourned for two months. I decided to visit my electorate to inform myconstituents of the position, and at a meeting in Winton they endorsedmy action. I returned to Brisbane overland by coach, _via_ Barcaldine, thence rail to Jericho, and by coach to Blackall, Tambo, Augathella andCharleville, and on to Brisbane by rail. This route was in consequenceof the maritime strike, through which all steamers were laid up. 

[Illustration: SIR SAMUEL WALKER GRIFFITH]

At the close of the 1890 session, I made a trip to Melbourne, and madethe acquaintance of a gentleman who persuaded me to join him in a tripto New Zealand. We called at Hobart _en route_, and landed at the Bluff, proceeding to Invercargill by rail. By this trip I renewed theacquaintance of bygone years with many old friends from NorthQueensland, who had become residents of New Zealand. 

Before leaving the Dominion there were rumours of an intended strike ofshearers in Queensland. When I reached Sydney I found this hadeventuated, and as the House was in recess, I proposed visiting myelectorate, but was prevented doing so because of the heavy floodsstopping all traffic. 

During the Parliamentary session of 1891, there were many stormy scenesand debates in connection with the shearers' strike, which took placethroughout the pastoral districts of Queensland and New South Wales. Thecauses for the strike and incidents are of public history. It is, therefore, not necessary for me to do more than to mention it. 

After the coalition was formed, Sir Thomas McIlwraith announced hispolicy of a ten years' extension of the "Polynesian Act. "

Sir Samuel Griffith, as Premier, foreshadowed this would be broughtforward in the session of 1892. I was returned as an opponent of blacklabour, and thought it necessary to justify my support of the newpolicy. To do so I obtained a letter of introduction to Mr. Neame, theowner of Macknade, on the Herbert River. I had some practical experienceof what it was to work among cane, but did not give any hint of whataction I was going to take in the House. Eventually, I informed myconstituents of my change of views, and put myself in their hands. Fromthem I received a free hand to act on my own judgment. I voted for theextension, and the House passed the bill. 

1893 was the year of the great bank smash when so many institutions wentunder, and eventually had to undergo reconstruction. In this difficulttime, Sir Hugh Nelson as Treasurer showed himself as an able and capablefinancier. He received help and sympathy from the banks which weatheredthe storm, but from none more than the General Manager of theinstitution which held considerable Government moneys. 

Retrenchment was the order of the day. Members salaries were reduced to£150 per annum. Lively and acrimonious discussions continued during thesession, but Sir Hugh Nelson was firm in his resolutions to restoreconfidence, and backed up by the majority of the members, he soonallayed the panic. 

A general election took place in this year, and I was again a candidate. On arriving at Boulia, where I addressed a meeting, I learnt that Mr. Wallace Nelson had been nominated by the Labour Party to oppose me, butwhen I reached Winton after completion of the tour, I found that I hadbeen returned unopposed, Mr. Nelson's nomination paper being informal. At the opening of the session I was twitted by Labour members of havingobtained the seat by an informality. 

In those days I was not altogether a hardened politician, and feltsomewhat sensitive on the charge. I returned to Winton, called a meetingto consider whether I should resign and contest another election, orretain my position. The meeting, which was a large one andrepresentative, decided that I should retain the seat. I must say thatafter taking this course, my opponents made but little allusion to theway in which I had been elected, and then only in a joking, friendlymanner. The Government of which Sir Hugh Nelson was now ActingPremier--McIlwraith having gone on a health tour--submitted its railwayproposals to a private meeting of its supporters. Very much to mydissatisfaction I found that the Hughenden-Winton line was notincluded. 

I will explain here that during the previous session I was invited bySir Thomas McIlwraith to call at his office. He then explained to mewhat was in his mind in regard to railways in the west. This was anextension north-westerly from Charleville towards Barcaldine; fromLongreach and Hughenden to Winton; from Hughenden to Cloncurry; fromWinton to Boulia _via_ Llanrheidol; and from Winton in a north-westerlydirection towards Cloncurry and the Gulf, keeping to the higher country, but as low down the rivers flowing into the latter as would be safe. Themineral country which caused the present line to run in a south-westerlydirection from Cloncurry was then unknown. 

The terminus on the Gulf was to be on its western side, if possible inQueensland territory, but if necessary he might negotiate with SouthAustralia for a port in the Northern Territory, from which, ifadvisable, that Colony might join up with Port Darwin. Such a scheme, Sir Thomas said, would bring the three principal ports, Brisbane, Rockhampton and Townsville, in touch with their western back country, which would also have its choice of ports. Queensland would becomeconnected through its Gulf outlet with the Eastern countries; have amore direct route to Europe, and be practically independent of Sydneyand Melbourne. He added that whether the scheme would eventuate or not, it was his intention to have a line from Hughenden to Winton, so as tobring the district within reach of its natural port--Townsville, insteadof being forced to Rockhampton. He presumed he could count on mysupport, which I promised. I submitted the information as being strictlyconfidential to Fraser, of Manuka, who, as chairman of my supportingcommittee, would at his discretion disclose the matter to such as hemight consider reliable. When I saw Nelson after the meeting, hedisclaimed all knowledge of McIlwraith's promise as regards the Wintonline, and looking at a map from Townsville out, said the line would benothing but a "dog-leg business. " I explained to him that, acting onthe information given by McIlwraith, and with his knowledge, I had toldmy committee, who had built their hopes upon his promise, and informedNelson I felt so strongly on the point, that as I could not personallyoppose the Government policy on any other matters, I would resign myseat. I explained the position to Fraser, who consulted my supportingcommittee. It was decided that as the promise given to me by McIlwraith, who was still Premier, as regards the Hughenden-Winton line was notkept, and as they could not ask me to sit opposed to the Government, they considered there was nothing for me but to retire from the Housealtogether. I submitted the letter to Nelson, who then laughed, and saidhe had gone into the whole question, and found that McIlwraith hadpledged himself. It appeared that Byrnes was in his confidence, and"looking at it again, " Nelson said, "it is a good policy in westerninterests, but what a howl there will be in Rockhampton. " Finally, whenthe railway policy was made public, it was found that the first sectionof a line towards Winton was proposed. 

I do not think that any railway proposal received such a searchingcriticism from its opponents. It was very amusing to see an immense mapof Queensland hung in the chamber, and one of the Central members with along pointer showing the boundaries of the several districts, and howRockhampton rights would be encroached upon. However, in spite of all, the line eventually reached Winton, but that was the only part ofMcIlwraith's scheme which became finalised, which I think is a matter tobe regretted. 

In later years a scheme was adopted which put Sydney as near to the GulfTerritory of Queensland as Brisbane, and which, if carried out, willmake the first-mentioned the Port of Western Queensland. Theconstruction of the lines under Denham's and Kidston's schemes, is, however, making such slow progress that there is a hopeful probabilitythat they will never be completed. 

The Parliamentary session of 1894 was, I think, the most exciting inhappenings and bitter in feelings than any I experienced during my timein the House. This state of affairs arose out of the shearers' strike, which existed in the Mitchell, Gregory and Flinders districts. Soserious was the position of affairs in those districts that the Ministryfelt it was absolutely necessary to introduce such exceptionallegislation as would give far-reaching powers to the Government and itsofficers for the preservation of peace. Considerable damage had happenedto the property of pastoralists in those districts by fire. In one ortwo places firearms were used. 

When Nelson asked for the formal leave to introduce the bill, Mr. Glassey, who was leader of the Labour Party, bitterly opposed therequest. The time and circumstances were very serious, but it was highlyamusing to see the expression of surprise which came over Nelson's faceas he questioned the sincerity of any man who opposed the introductionof a Bill for the Preservation of Peace. The scope of the bill wasgenerally known to members, and the Opposition by Glassey at this stage, and the surprise by Nelson were the usual Parliamentary camouflage. 

During the passage of the bill through the Assembly, both in the Houseand Committee, it was very difficult to control the members on eitherside. There were many suspensions of members on the Labour side, whowere, of course, out to oppose the measure. The stormy passage of thisbill, which, when it became law, did Preserve Peace, may be read in_Hansard_ of the time. 

The Government in 1895 organised a Parliamentary tour of NorthQueensland to enable many members to see for the first time that countryfor which they assumed they were competent to legislate. The tour wasvery successfully carried out, and those who were strangers to theNorth, realised that they knew only a small corner of Queensland, which, compared with what they were visiting, was of comparatively less value. Amongst the 37 requests made to Mr. Tozer (who was Home Secretary) atCooktown, was one to erect a statue to Captain Cook. It was pointed outa monument had been erected to him, but owing to low finances the schemewas uncompleted. It was thought Captain Cook deserved a monument atCooktown; but Mr. Tozer, in reply, stated that he realised that Cooktowndeserved some recognition of the historical fact that Captain Cook'sonly lengthy stay in Australia was in the locality, but, he explained, "The position is this: down in Brisbane we have deputations ofunemployed asking us for bread; now I have come up here, and you haveasked me for a stone. " This reply settled the question. 

Returning to Townsville and Bowen, the party visited Cid Harbour, inWhitsunday Passage. At this place there was a camp of timber-getters. There were two families of women and children who had not tasted meatsince Christmas. It was now April. Two sheep were given from the ship, and in return we borrowed their fishing net, with which we caught abeautiful lot of parrot fish. Weighing anchor at mid-day, Captain Southtook us through the Molle passage, where, sounding the whistle, onecould hear the echo reverberating amongst the islands for some minutesafterwards. It is considered that although Cid Harbour has not theextent of Sydney Harbour, it is quite its equal in beauty. 

During the session, the plans and specifications of a line of railwayfrom Hughenden towards Winton were laid on the table of the House. Thisgave rise to a bitter discussion dealing with interests of Rockhamptonand Townsville, which were in conflict. Those of the western country andresidents were not considered. Nelson consented to the request of Mr. Archer, member for Rockhampton, for a select committee, to take evidenceas to the desirableness of constructing the line. The Central members onthe committee were Mr. Archer, chairman; Messrs. Murray and Callan, MM. L. A. This committee was the first to take evidence on a railwayproposed in the Assembly, and formed a precedent afterwards availed of. The committee sat for a week, and in the evidence adduced the majorityreport to the House was in favour of the line. 

The Central members, who sent in a minority report, stated that theWinton district belonged to Rockhampton, and asserted that the settledpolicy of the country was that the lines should be extended due westfrom the coastal ports. They were apparently oblivious to the fact thatthe coast line north from Brisbane trended in a north-westerlydirection, and owing to this trend Winton was 185 miles nearerTownsville than Rockhampton. The Minister for Railways accepted themajority report, proposed the building of this section, and thenfollowed an acrimonious debate, which resulted in an all-night sitting. I acted as Whip during the night, and allowed my supporters to camp inthe Legislative Council Chambers, whence as they were required for adivision, I brought them in, to the amazement of our opponents, whothought they had left and gone home. 

The proposal was carried at 7. 30 the following morning. 

CHAPTER XV. 

At the end of this year I returned to Winton to prepare for theelections to be held in May, 1896. I addressed a meeting at that town, and received a vote of confidence. I commenced a tour of the district. The season was very dry, and I had to send feed for my horses by Cobb'scoach to Boulia. I went over some of the same ground as in 1890, andwhen travelling between Boulia and Springvale I saw the tracks made bymy buggy in the wet of that year. This shows the scarcity of travellersin that country. At the election I was in a minority by three votes inWinton, but the outside places returned me with a substantial majority. Labour gained a few more seats at this election, and the verbosity onehad to listen to made an M. L. A. 's life, like a policeman's, not a happyone. 

Towards the end of the session the Minister for Railways laid the plansand specifications of another section of the Hughenden to Winton railwayon the table of the House. Messrs. Kidston and Curtis, MM. L. A. , led theCentral members in strong opposition to the proposal, but after a shortdebate it was carried. This section when completed brought the line fromWatten to Manuka, or, as the station is now called, "Corfield. "

The second sections of the railway from Hughenden to Winton wereconstructed by the late Mr. G. C. Willcocks, and in a record time. Hehad to carry ballast and water along the whole construction of 132 milesfrom the Flinders River at Hughenden. His system was to plough and scoopthe bed for the permanent way. This being done, a temporary line waslaid down alongside, upon which trucks were run to carry on the advancework, leaving permanent work to follow up. As a consequence he was twomonths ahead of his time, and the line being available to carry trafficon the unopened portion, the Government decided to give him a bonus tohand the line over. Compared with present-day railway construction, asregards expense in time and in money, the Winton line is a monument toMr. Willcock's ability and energy as a contractor, and to the relativemerits of contract and day labour. 

In 1896, Sir Hugh Nelson had been appointed President of the LegislativeCouncil, and appeared in his Windsor uniform at the opening ofParliament this year. Mr. W. H. Brown, the leader of the Labour Party, who was sitting next to me in the Council Chamber, in a whisper loudenough to be heard around, remarked:--"I am just thinking how manyounces to the dish Sir Hugh Nelson would pan out if he were boileddown. " Sir Hugh gave dignity to his new position, which was the rewardof years of distinguished loyal and successful service to Queensland. 

The Hon. T. J. Byrnes was now appointed to succeed Sir Hugh Nelson asPremier, and shortly afterwards visited England. Mr. Byrnes' career andsuccesses were well known in that country, and these, aided by a frank, charming manner, made his tour one of triumph. It was a blow toQueensland that he did not long survive his return to the State. Although Byrnes was not in Parliament when Macrossan was alive, yetthose who remembered the latter could not help comparing the two men. Ido not recollect having seen Macrossan smile even after a successfulspeech. On the other hand, beyond a passing frown scarcely perceptible, even in the bitterness of debate, I have not seen Byrnes otherwise thansmiling, but when one sat close to either and saw their eyes flashingfire, one could realise the strength and sincerity of both. 

It is possible that had Byrnes lived to take the field againstFederation, as it was thought he would, Queensland might not havebecome one of the States, except under certain saving conditions. I waspresent at the funeral ceremony in St. Stephen's Cathedral, and saw manyhardened politicians brushing tears off. It was felt that a great manand a good man had passed away. 

Mr. W. H. Browne, more familiarly known as "Billy" Browne, was a lovablecharacter. Firm in his belief that his principles were right and shouldbe maintained, but without being bitter to those who might differ fromhim. His death was no doubt a temporary loss to the Labour Party, ofwhich Queensland could easily spare others more bigoted, but lesssincere. 

Sir Samuel Griffith, after giving the best years of his life toQueensland, had now retired to the Supreme Court Bench, and his absencewas a loss to Parliament. 

Most members judged Griffith as being cold and distant, but personally, I have much to thank him for. I found him kind and sociable whenapproached, and at no time did he assume a patronising manner when doinga favour. Those who knew him intimately told me they found him to be thesame. Looking at him from the opposite side, he seemed to be always onthe alert to find his opponent tripping. I have known him, when he didso, to generously aid in putting them right, and apparently because hefelt it to be his duty to do so. He was different to his great opponentMcIlwraith, both in character and mental construction. McIlwraith was bynature impatient and irritable. Griffith, on the contrary, was verypatient, and maintained a great control of his temper. This enabled himto frequently have his views adopted when they might not be, if toostrongly forced. Had advantage been taken of opportunities, Griffithmight have been a wealthy man. But to his honour, and to that ofQueensland Parliaments, from the first even to the present, this Statehas been singularly free from what has been brought to light in otherStates. 

The artesian bore at Winton was now completed by the Intercolonial DeepBoring Company. The bore has a depth of 4, 010 feet, and a flow of720, 000 gallons of water per day, the temperature being 182 degs. Fahrenheit. It had many vicissitudes during its eight years' sinking. Two other companies went into liquidation in carrying out the work. 

In 1898, I induced the Government to grant a loan of £2, 500 toreticulate the town with water from the bore. As far as I can rememberthis session was uneventful in a political sense. 

The bad health of my partner, Mr. Campbell, made it necessary that Ishould return to active business. I informed my constituents that at theend of this session, which would be the last of that Parliament, Iintended to retire from politics. 

Following Mr. Campbell's death, Mr. T. J. O'Rourke became my partner, and is so still. 

I feel it would be out of place to express my personal opinion of Mr. O'Rourke. It is enough to say that he who can stand up against thecriticisms, and hold the goodwill of western men of all sorts andconditions, needs no expression of opinion or feeling from me. 

Although the Bush Brotherhood was founded by the Church of England at aperiod later than that at which I decided should end thesereminiscences, it may not be out of place to allude to the good work ofthe Brethren, and the success of their endeavours to promote thespiritual and oftentimes the material welfare of the west. The memberslived a life of hardship and self-abnegation, which was appreciated bypeople of all and of no religious beliefs. 

One of its most notable members was the Reverend Hulton-Sams--known asthe Fighting Parson--and who was the winner of many friendly fights. Hetravelled the west visiting stations and shearing sheds with his Bibleand prayer-book on one handle of his bike, and a set of boxing gloves onthe other, and after preaching an impressive extempore sermon, concluding the service, would invariably say, "Now, boys, we will have alittle recreation!" and invite his hearers to put on the gloves. He wasnot always the winner, however. His manly virtues, the sincerity of hislife, and the beauty of his character, made him one of the best lovedamongst western men. On his return to England, after the war broke out, he enlisted, and received a commission as a Lieutenant in the "Duke ofCornwall's Light Infantry. " He went with his regiment to France, and wasinstantaneously killed by a shell when seeking water for his woundedcomrades. He died, as he lived, a Christian hero, and nothing better canbe said of any man. 

The following account of his death, received by his sister, LadyWiseman, was published in the London _Evening News_:--

The Adjutant of a battalion of the D. C. L. I. , said:--"He died a gloriousdeath--that of a British officer and gentleman, commanding a company inan important position, and sticking it where many others might havefailed. We were hanging on to the edge of a wood, and the Germans weretrying to shell us out of it. That night the Germans attacked usagain--bombs and liquid fire. C. Company stuck to it, and through allthe terrific shelling they never flinched, although they lost heavily. 

"They were there at 10 a. M. , and I crawled to and talked to your brotherseveral times. He was magnificent and very cheerful. His last words tome were, 'Well, old boy, this is a bit thick, but we'll see it through, never fear. ' His company sergeant-major told me that at about 10 a. M. Your brother crawled away to see if he could get any water for the men, many of whom were wounded and very thirsty. 

"He was hit by a piece of shell in the thigh and side, and killedinstantly. He died doing a thing which makes us feel proud to haveknown him. He was a fine officer, a fine friend, and was worshipped byhis men. "

I was but one of a large number of members who, during 1888, entered theHouse for the first time. To one who had not had the inclination, evenif one had the time, previous to this, for politics, everything in andaround the House was novel and interesting, but it was difficult tounderstand why members should in the Chamber be so bitterly hostile toeach other and yet as friendly outside. There were, of course, exceptions as regards the latter, but I soon learned that a good deal ofwhat was being said and done was more or less theatrical. Sincerity wasto a great extent at a discount, and later years of experience inpolitics confirmed my impressions that the whole was a game to inducethe people to think that their friend was Codlin, and not Short. And thefarce is continued to the present time, only more so, and with the samesuccess. 

It seems to me that the end of my Parliamentary life might be the end ofmy reminiscences. The opening of railway communication with Wintonbrought new conditions into our lives. The days of pioneering, bullock-driving, the trips by Cobb and Co. , which were not always tripsof comfort or of pleasure, were things of the past. In place of thecrack of the whip and the rumble of the coach were heard the whistle andsnorting of the engine. We were now within civilisation, so far asconvenience might go, but whether we were morally and socially better orworse is a very open question. The great distances, the open plains, andthe loneliness and monotony which is generally characteristic of thewestern country, even in these days of comparative closer settlement, have formed the western character. It is a character hard, shrewd, andimpatient in good times, but strangely patient and resourceful in timesof floods, drought, or difficulty. Invariably maintaining a certainreserve, yet hospitable and generous towards strangers, and ready togive help without question where needed, the western-born man and womancarries a dignity and presence easily recognised, and a friend whovisited the west after many years, remarks:--"I say, you have a grandstamp of man and woman growing up in the west, but you are not givingthem encouragement to live in and develop their country as you shoulddo. "

The man of the west deserves much praise, but what might be said of itswomen. I have seen these following the waggon, or living in domicileswhich, even at best, would be a shame to cities. Yet very rarelyotherwise than patient, cheerful and hospitable, loving help-mates andmothers. "God bless them, " I say. 

I cannot help thinking that politics are the bane of the west. It issingularly free from religious rancour or animosity. The religiousbelief of the other man, or if he has any at all, concerns no one. Solong as a clergyman does not hold that playing cricket or football onSunday is wrong, even if he is not popular, he is at all timesrespected. 

I remember a Roman Catholic priest (Father Fagan) speaking at a dinnerof welcome, remark:--"A brother minister had asked him what good thesesocial gatherings did?" He replied:--"They did a great deal of good, andhe went so far as to say that one such gathering was worth twentysermons. They were simply putting in practice the virtues preached fromthe pulpit of hospitality, charity and gratitude. "

It is my sincere hope that such kindliness and charity might continue tothe end of time. 

 "FAREWELL. "

WATER DIVINING:

A POSTSCRIPT. 

"There are more things in Heaven and earth than are dreamt of in ourphilosophy. " Thus wrote Shakespeare, and as the centuries roll by, andthe marvels of invention and scientific research are unfolded, thistruth of the immortal bard becomes the more and more evident to thinkingpeople of all nations. 

The faculty or attributes of water divining--that is, ability to locatewater running in natural channels beneath the surface--is one which oflate years has received great attention in Queensland. 

In this material and matter-of-fact age it is difficult to place beliefin anything savouring of the occult--anything which cannot be explainedby recognised natural laws, or which is not readily understood. 

For this reason, and notwithstanding indisputable evidence of thegenuineness of the claims put forward by water diviners, many peopleregard them all as a huge joke, and laugh outright at the credulity oftheir patrons. Certainly it is true that the faculty is claimed by many, but possessed by few. After all, however mystifying it may be to theordinary mind, hard facts cannot be ignored, and proof positive hasrepeatedly been adduced of the good work done by men possessing thismarvellous faculty. 

In Queensland alone, many western landholders--shrewd, hard-headed, business men--have reason to be thankful that they secured the servicesof a genuine and expert diviner, whose "magic wand" quickly disclosedthe whereabouts of sub-artesian water. Thus, it has happened as a resultof the diviner's visit that a bore is driven, and presently by means ofa wind-mill, or oil pump, a sparkling stream is brought from the vastcaverns which have held it prisoner, turning the oft-times dreary wasteinto a smiling, life-giving oasis. 

In my opinion, what constitutes the faculty of divination is an inherentquality that cannot be acquired. Some people describe it as a sixthsense, while Dr. Grasset, a French authority, believes that the abilityto find underground streams proves the existence of a faculty belongingto a class of psychological feelings forming what he calls "psychismeinferieur, " the study of which is just beginning to attract theattention of the scientific world. 

Perhaps I should explain that, as a rule, a forked twig, the extremitiesof which are held loosely in each hand, is used to locate sub-artesianwater, and in this connection its movements, so far as is known, canonly be affected by natural running streams. The rod, or twig, does notwork if carried over water passing through drains, culverts, and suchlike. My explanation of the movements of the rod is that they are causedby electro-magnetism, the diviner being perhaps highly charged withelectricity. The water has absorbed the electricity of the adjacentbodies in the earth, the currents coming to the surface enters theair--ether--and the currents entering his body, he being anon-conductor, agitates him. Most people are conductors, consequentlythe current passes through them, and they do not feel it. The electrictwig in the hands of the diviner forms a part of the connection betweenthe body and the water, and by a law of nature, these two bodies musteither attract or repel each other. If the experimenter is a personwith a small amount of the electric fluid in his nature, that isnegatively charged, the water being positive will draw down or attractthe twig, hence the downward movement. If on the other hand, he issurcharged with electricity, or positive, the positive electricity ofthe water will repel the other, and the twig will bend upwards. Themovements of the twig may thus be accounted for, but, comparatively, solittle is known or understood of the marvellous influences and workingsof electricity that it is impossible to be dogmatic on the question. 

[Illustration: SIR HUGH NELSON AT WINTON BORE. 1895. ]

The forks of the twig should be held lightly between the second andthird fingers of the hands, pressing the thumbs on the side of the twigwith just sufficient force to give the ends a slightly-outwarddirection. If a person possesses the faculty, and water flows anywherebeneath him, the twig will turn round on its ends between his fingers. In my own case, should I hold the twig tightly over a naturalunderground stream, it will bend under and round in an endeavour tofollow out the movement I have just mentioned. It will, perhaps, beinteresting to know that now I only use the twig for the purpose ofindicating the presence of streams. The faculty is so sensitive in myhands that I can detect water if I am 20 yards away. I have found bycareful observation and study that I can far more effectively decideupon the actual bore site by the indications which my hands give. Holding them downwards, open, and with the palms facing, I have foundthat as I approach the strongest, and therefore the most suitable, pointin the stream for boring, they are thrust forcibly apart and upwards bythe same power, apparently, that acts upon the twig. I found this out ina peculiar manner. After marking a site with the twig, I happened toplace my hands together, and to my surprise they came up, and I couldnot keep them together. 

I must say it was only by accident that I discovered my possession ofthis faculty. About 1906, a water diviner visited the Winton district, and one day several friends and myself went with him in his quest forwater. He explained his methods to the party, and naturally we allprovided ourselves with twigs. 

After living so many years in the dry, western country, I was, ofcourse, very interested in the experiment, and closely followingdirections was astonished after walking about for some time to find myrod revolving slowly. Members of the party near at hand were equallyastonished, and called loudly to the others to "come and look atCorfield's twig. " They, thinking it was due to the twig alone, soonruined it, but I felt that I was possessed of some power, whichpreviously I did not know I possessed, as I knew I was not turning thestick myself. For about twelve months after that I closely studied everyphase of the phenomenon, and during that time I discovered good waterfor many residents in the district. 

In 1907, an opportunity came to me to employ my faculty for the benefitof pastoralists and the State generally. 

Mr. R. C. Ramsay, of Oondooroo Station, invited me to ascertain if goodwater was obtainable in a dry belt of that country, and in this I wasentirely successful. 

It is an interesting fact that I do not require to leave a vehicle bywhich I may be travelling in order to carry out my search for water. Whilst seated in a train, or motor car, travelling at the rate of 30 or40 miles an hour, I have by means of the rod located streams. If it werenot that the currents were in the air, as I have previously referred to, I should be insulated by the India-rubber tyres of the motor. 

Reverting for the moment to the extent to which the faculty may beexercised, a diviner is able to fix the breadth of these streams, theposition where their current is strongest, and to give a fairlyapproximate estimate of what their supply may be. Without doubt watercan be found by an expert at great depths from the surface (the greatestdepth water was got in any of my sites, that I know of, is 950 feet atSandy Creek, eight miles west of Birkhead, where it flowed over thecasing). If the water is stagnant the divining rod is silent. I do notprofess to be able to tell if it is salt or fresh, although books ondivining say this may be ascertained by placing salt in the hands. 

Before giving the particulars of my water sites, I would explain that Iwas under the impression that I could not feel water at a greater depththan 300 feet. 

I was engaged by the Gregory Rabbit Board to mark a site on very highcountry on Llanrheidol Station. I found a good stream not far from onepicked by another diviner, and I guaranteed that water would be struckat 300 feet. A well was put down to that depth, but no water obtained. On the strength of my guarantee the sinking of the well was abandoned. 

Later, I was engaged to mark sites on Vindex Station, and it was mainlydue to the perseverance of Mr. W. H. Keene, the manager, that water wastapped over 300 feet. He sunk on one to 500 feet, the water rising towithin 152 feet from the surface. It was tested by being pumped for sixhours, but the 20, 000 gallons per day could not be reduced. Water wasobtained at all my sites on Vindex. These results proved that my 300feet depth was wrong. 

I then contracted to test for water on the Nottingham blocks, which aresituated on very high downs country between Hughenden and Winton, at theheads of the Landsborough, Flinders, and Diamantina Rivers. My previousexperience led me to believe that about 600 feet was my limit, and boreswere put down to over that depth and abandoned without water. Eventuallythe owners selected a site, and put down an artesian bore, striking aflow at about 2, 000 feet. I felt sorry they did not sink on one of mysites to prove exactly how deep I could feel underground water. 

Another failure was at Vuna selection. The site was on a continuation ofthe high downs adjoining the Nottingham blocks. The bore was put downover 500 feet at a spot which another diviner had endorsed as being agood site. This and another one were also abandoned without water. 

At Glendower, near Prairie, on the Hughenden railway line, I selected asite guaranteeing water if there would be at 300 feet, near a site whichhad been put down 700 feet without water. The latter had been markedhaphazard, and I could not detect any indication of a stream. My site at300 feet was also a failure. At this depth the bore was abandoned. 

A controversy was started in Charters Towers over a paragraph in the_Northern Miner_, as follows:--"The Dalrymple Shire Council's well onVictoria Downs road, at the _head_ of the 10-mile creek, on the spotpicked by Mr. George O'Sullivan, was sunk to a depth of 38 feet, and atthat depth water became so heavy that sinking conditions had to bediscontinued. The water rises to within 18 feet of the surface. Thissite was stated to be barren of water by Mr. Corfield. " The aboverequires an explanation from me, which I now give. 

I was camped at Bletchington Park, where I had been marking sites forMessrs. Symes Brothers, who had just completed one I had previouslymarked within 100 yards of their homestead. They struck a supply of15, 000 gallons per day, at a depth of 70 feet. In the morning it wasarranged that Mr. J. Symes should drive me into Charters Towers, andwhen on the road, asked me if I would mind looking at Sullivan's site atthe 10-mile creek. He said he did not know exactly where it wassituated. When we reached the creek we saw some trees stripped of barkclose to the crossing indicating the spot, as we thought, but I couldfind no sign of water there. I did not go to the _head_ of the creek, where I afterwards learnt the site was. Hence the statement that I haddeclared the site barren of water. 

I have previously stated that water has been struck on my site in thiscountry at a depth of 950 feet, and I feel certain that in all theseinstances, if boring had been continued, water would have been struck ata payable depth. 

I will now relate some of my experiences of the efficacy of the diviningrod. 

It is my custom to use a compass to define the course of the undergroundstream, which I leave on paper with the manager or owner to show inwhich direction the stream is running. 

I was engaged by Messrs. Philp, Forsyth and Munro to mark sites for tubebores on their property at Thylungra Station. After marking severalsites on the station, when passing through Brisbane later, on my way toCowley Station on the same errand, I interviewed Messrs. Philp andForsyth, who told me there had been a well sunk on my site and no waterobtained, but that the contractor had sunk a three-inch bore, where mypeg was, and had obtained good water for his camp use. I may state herethat where water is unobtainable close to the workings, this was a usualoccurrence. As the three partners were about to visit the station, Iasked them to discontinue working, and I would meet them there at acertain date. This I did, and found in their presence that the well hadbeen put down two feet outside the breadth of the stream in the oppositedirection to which it was running. I advocated a new well being sunk inthe proper place, but they preferred driving in the direction to which Ihad placed the peg. Such action may prove a partial failure, as theymight not strike the strong stream. I have not heard the result of theirdecision, but it is certain that my directions of the course of thestream have not been followed. Either Sir Robert Philp or Messrs. Forsyth or Munro could corroborate the above statements. 

The Dalrymple Shire Council obtained my services to inspect a well whichhad been sunk at Oakey Creek, distant about 15 miles from ChartersTowers, which they told me would only water twelve horses and then thesupply gave out. I found the well was on the edge of a strong stream, the outer edge of which ran through the centre of the well, consequentlythe rod would not work at the outer edge of the well. I marked the sitefor a new one about six yards farther in. The members of the Councildecided to put down a circular cement well. They tapped the water under40 feet and obtained an inexhaustible supply. When I received the letterenclosing my fee, it contained a vote of thanks from the committee forthe good work done. No better place could be chosen for a demonstrationof the efficacy of the divining rod. 

Later, the Directors of the Carrington United Mine invited me to visittheir well at Lion's town, about 30 miles from Charters Towers, whichhad become dry. I found this well was not on any stream, but that adrive had been put in to drain the soakage from a sandy creek, which wasin close proximity, and the season being a dry one, this had also failedto give any soakage. I crossed this creek, and found a stream 13 yardswide, which I marked. Being located on a flat, I had the idea thatprobably there might be more water further over. My surmise was right, for on investigation I found another stream 14 yards wide, but runningin the direction as if it would join the other. This proved correct, thewhole width of the two streams measuring 27 yards. I told the manager, who was present, I could get him a good site at a spot most suitable tohimself. The site was marked in the centre of the 27 yards. 

Miners were put on to work night and day, as about 100 men had beenthrown out of employment owing to the failure of the water supply. Waterwas struck at 30 feet, which rose seven feet in the shaft in tenminutes. The sinking was continued to 40 feet, the water rising towithin ten feet of the surface. When one considers the well was six feetsquare, the supply can be imagined. 

Unknown to the man who was pumping the water to the mill, I latervisited the site and enquired if the water could be reduced in theshaft. He replied:--"I have kept the pump going night and day, butcannot lessen the supply. " I then asked him if I might lift the slabswhich were covering the well. I did so with his permission, and saw thewater flowing in a steady stream across it. This satisfied me as to thesupply. 

At Avon Downs Station, near Clermont, a large well had been sunk near acreek, with a diminishing supply of water. On investigation, I found thewell had been sunk on the edge of an underground stream. I advised adrive to be put in towards the centre of the stream (which I marked). Mr. Sutherland (the Inspector for the Australian Estates at that time)informed me later that my advice had been carried out, and they hadobtained very satisfactory results. 

At Gindie State Farm, I was accompanied by Mr. Hamlyn (the PublicService Improvement Engineer) to mark sites for the Department ofAgriculture. Mr. Jarrott, the manager, took us to a dry well sunk to adepth of 80 feet. I could not feel any indication of water there, but afew hundred yards away, on rising ground, I located two streams crossingeach other, and by the assistance of pegs, marked a site in the centreof the two streams. Some months afterwards I met the manager in Emerald, who said:--"Mr. Corfield, when you were marking that site at GindieState Farm, where the two streams crossed each other, the engineer andmyself were laughingly criticising your action, but never more will Idoubt your ability to find water. " The Secretary of Agriculture laterinformed me by letter that the top stream only yielded a small supply, but the second stream, struck at 165 feet, augmented the supply that itcould not be lowered by the pump more than 35 feet, and that theestimated yield of both streams was 10, 000 gallons per day. 

In 1907, I marked several sites in the vicinity of Winton, and betweenthen and 1911, I travelled by coach and train, but principally by buggy, an approximate distance of 20, 000 miles, marking sites at differentstations, ranging from Charleville in the south-west, to Granada in thenorth-west, in the back blocks of this State, besides locating water onseveral stations on and near the eastern coast, and was successful inlocating water to the satisfaction of those interested. 

On a site marked by me at Mayne Junction, the Railway Departmentobtained water at a reasonable depth, but the water on being analysedwas found to be unfit for locomotives, or for washing the carriages, consequently it was abandoned. 

I also found a stream within two miles of Nundah railway station, which, on a well being sunk, tapped the water at 30 feet. It rose 18 feet inthe shaft. This water is supposed to be of a highly medicinal character, beautifully soft and palatable to drink. 

I also marked a few sites in New South Wales, and some at BirralleeStation, out from Bowen. 

All this time I enjoyed perfect health, but in 1911 I began to get verystiff in the legs, especially about the hips. Thinking it wasrheumatism, I went to the Innot hot springs, near Herberton. These bathsgave me no relief, so I went to Sydney to consult Sir AlexanderMcCormack, who prescribed electrical treatment and hot air. This I triedfor four months without any good results. 

I then went to Rotorua, in New Zealand, consulting the doctor there, whoprescribed all the baths which are so efficacious in removingrheumatism. The doctor, hearing of my having practised water divining solong, diagnosed my case as neuritis, brought on by constant use of mynerve energy in following that profession. 

From this time I desisted from my occupation, and only used my powers togive a demonstration occasionally. 

I have tried since the Muckadilla bore water on several occasions, butcould obtain no improvement. 

An amusing incident occurred to me when marking sites on a cattlestation in the north-west of Queensland. 

I was being driven in a buggy drawn by a spanking pair of horses whichthe driver, who was the manager of the station, could well handle. 

The manager was a very smart young fellow, a splendid rider, and inevery way qualified to manage such a property, and bore a highreputation for considering the interests of his employers beforeanything else. 

He was driving me through some ridgy country where the grass in thegullies was very long and rank. I had located a good stream of water, and was describing its direction by the aid of the compass. 

My companion asked if I could follow it, explaining there was a flathalf-a-mile farther on which would be a better place for the site. Ireplied that I could do so, but asked him to drive along the outer edgeof the stream, so that I could detect if it curved away on that side. Wealso zig-zagged inwards, so that I might be certain it was still goingin the right direction. 

Presently we came to a gully, which was covered with grass, and to allappearance very shallow. On reaching it the horses jumped across it, pulling the front wheel of the buggy into a deep hole. The back of thebuggy, caused by the hind wheels lifting, caught me between theshoulders. I turned a somersault, and was thrown head first over thewheels, with my head on the bank, and my legs hanging over the hole. Having the rod in both hands, I was unable to break the fall. I yelledout, "For God's sake, keep the wheels from going over my head. " Thesudden jerk had also sent the driver over the splashboard, but like agood horseman, he steadied himself with the reins and landed on hisfeet. I then heard him say, "My God! I've killed him, and he hasn'tmarked the site yet. " Thinking of his employer's interest prevented himgiving me sympathy. 

When I found I was not hurt, and that I could rise without hisassistance, I could not but enjoy the situation, although the wheel wentover the rim of my hat whilst it was on my head. 

I eventually marked the site on the plain, but have not heard the resultof the boring. 

 Printed by H. Pole & Co. Limited, Elizabeth Street, Brisbane. 

 +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ | Transcriber's Note: | | | |The following typographical errors have been corrected: | | | |Page 10: A period was added after the sentence ending with "in an | |open yard. " | |Page 35: "eZaland" changed to "Zealand" (returning to | |New Zealand) | |Page 53: "myall" changed to "Myall" (he saw a lot of Myall) | |Page 59: "blackboy" changed to "black boy" (Knowing I had no black | |boy) | |Page 73: "lfting" changed to "lifting" (On lifting his head) | |Page 107: Apostrophe added before "Frisco" ('Frisco was _en-fete_) | |Page 111: "evining" changed to "evening" (At dark one evening) | |Page 125: "povisions" changed to "provisions" (strong piece of rope, | |provisions) | |Page 129: A period was added after the sentence ending with "the | |House passed the bill. " | |Page 130: "sesssion" changed to "session" (during the session) | |Page 139: "he" changed to "the" (the temperature) | | | |All other spelling and punctuation inconsistencies have been retained. | +----------------------------------------------------------------------+