SYDNEY
TO
CROYDON.
(NORTHERN QUEENSLAND.)
An Interesting Account of a Journey to the
Gulf Country with a Member of Parliament.
By “SALTBUSH.”
PRICE ... ONE SHILLING.
Sydney:
“CAXTON” PRINTING WORKS, 247 GEORGE STREET.
1889.
FROM SYDNEY TO CROYDON.
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By “Saltbush.”
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HAVING received letters and telegrams from an old mate of mine who hasbeen on the Croydon goldfield for some considerable time—in all ofwhich communications he strongly advised me to pay a visit to the fieldin order that I might judge for myself as to its richness and permanencyand its suitability for investment—it being in his opinion the grandestgoldfield ever discovered in Northern Queensland. I finally decided tomake the trip, and in company with a friend of mine, who with myself,had on a former occasion visited Normanton and the Gulf-country beforeCroydon was ever thought of, we started from Sydney on Monday, the 25thJuly, and as the incidents of our journey may prove interesting to manyothers who may visit the locality in the near future, I have ventured tojot down a few experiences and impressions picked up during the journey.We waited upon Messrs. Burns Philp and Co. in Sydney and made allarrangements as to return passage from Brisbane to Normanton, havingdecided to proceed overland from the capital of New South Wales to thecapital of Queensland, my friend, who had never travelled that route,being particularly anxious to have a good look at the New England andDarling Downs country, more especially as I was pretty well acquaintedwith it, and could furnish him with some information concerning it thatmight be eventually both useful and profitable. Having packed ourtravelling trunks and various necessaries for the voyage, and confiningourselves to such articles as were absolutely indispensable, in order tomake our “impedimenta” as light as possible—knowing from experiencethat too much luggage is a terrible handicap on a long journey—thefirst step was to secure berths on the Hunter River Steamship Company’sfine boat, “the Namoi,” which left the wharf at half-past eleven, forNewcastle. With the assistance of “Alick,” the well-known and genialbedroom steward, we secured a very comfortable cabin to ourselves on theupper deck, and a more obliging and attentive steward than the sameAlick I never wish to drop across in my travels, as nothing seemed anytrouble to him and he relieved us of all anxiety concerning our luggageby looking carefully after it whilst in transit on the steamer, andthen, on our arrival at the coaly city, by conveying it on board theNorthern train advertised to leave at a quarter-past seven, a.m., on themorning of the 26th.{4}
As we had half-an-hour to spare before its departure we stepped acrossthe street from the Railway Station to the Terminus Hotel, where weinterviewed a very old friend of mine in the person of Walter Sidney,and imbibed a refresher in the shape of a first-class glass of whiskeyand milk, which proved very refreshing in the sharp morning air, when westrolled into the main s