Sydney Morning Herald 27 June 1857

THE GOLD-FIELDS OF NEW SOUTH WALES.

FROM OUR SPECIAL COMMISSIONER

No. 11.

THE next morning I quitted Barnaby's at daylight. The rain of the preceding days had now given place to a hard frost, such a one as I scarcely remember to have before witnessed in the colony, and so severe that after I had been on the road for a quarter of an hour I was left in a state of perfect uncertainty as to whether I possessed fingers and toes or not. The route lay over an elevated country of short stony ranges, all white with frost oven to the tree tops, whilst every little puddle or collection of water was coated over with a sheet of ice fully half an inch thick. Crossing the old Cherry Tree Hill, the appearance was most beautiful, from the long spines of crystals of frost that stood out upon the fens and other thick undergrowth that here clothed the ground, hill and tree being all covered thickly with the hoar-frost, and all wearing one general livery of white. As the sun rose and obtained some little power, a continual dropping shower was kept up from the tree tops, through the melting of the frost. On descending the Cherry Tree Hill, and within a distance of about two miles, I got gradually out of the mud that had covered the road all the way up from Sydney, into dust, the first rising of which appeared almost phenomenon, from its great rarity. A few miles further on, the road comes down for the first time upon the Cudgegong River; thence to Mudgee, a distance of some 21 miles, runs down the course of that stream, now on one side now on the other, as either bank presents the greatest convenience for travelling. The greater part of the land on this stream has been sold. Mr. W. Bowman. M.L.A., being the largest proprietor in the neighbourhood. He has one or two pretty stations, one Tannabutta, being let as an inn, another the Big Hill, being a farming station. The latter is a most complete establishment, with a good eight horse mill erected upon it. I may mention as a proof of the quality of the soil here, that a large paddock has given a crop of hay for the last ten years in succession without so much as a plough or a harrow having been used upon it during that period. The crop last year was about 50 tons, the only expense attached to it being the making and getting in, I was informed that the stacks had been sold a few days before I passed, at the rate of £10 a ton, delivered at the stock, thus leaving a handsome margin of profit to the proprietor. Another instance of the great returns to be obtained from an apparently unimportant source struck me very forcibly. Some twenty or thirty food sized hogs, weighing, I should suppose, about 50 lbs. each, were running about the place. These, I was told, had been sold, at the same time as the hay for £4 a-piece. Only a day or two previously I had seen fat cattle on their road down bought at £1 10s. a-head; and £1 for a pig certainly looked after that a very high price, the more particularly as it was in a land perfectly teeming with swine. In fact, one of the peculiarities of this line of road was the vast quantities of pork, fresh, salted, and smoked, that seemed to be consumed by the residents. Eggs and bacon were a standing dish at every inn, and in places where such en amount of consideration was shown to the traveller as to consult his wishes relative to what he would choose to cat, something like this sort of conversation ensued: ~

"Waiter:" What would you like for breakfast, sir? (then, suggestively) nice pork chops, sir!"

Traveller:

"Have you no beefsteaks?"

Waiter:

"No steaks, sir; some splendid pork chops, sir!"

Traveller :

"Any mutton? "

Waiter:

"Only a cold shoulder, sir; but, fine pork chops!"

And so the traveller is brought down to the one standing dish of the country, pork. Seeing this the case everywhere, I have often wondered how a traveller, a strict follower of the Mosaic law would manage to subsist, because I verily behove that they could not fry a beefsteak without using lard to do it with. The rearing of pigs throughout the whole of the Western district, is attended with little if any expense. They are allowed to run free in the bush, where they reach to on enormous size, feeding on certain roots and grosses of so nutritious a kind, that that their flesh becomes as hard and firm, though not perhaps so white, as that of corn fed pork. From the Big Hill to Mudgee, a distance of ten miles, I rode through a cloud of dust, the dashed and muddy appearance of myself and steed.