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At length we are beginning to realise the enormous
national asset we have in the mighty River Murray. In the course of
the coming years we shall see the great part it is destined to play
not only in the welfare of the Commonwealth but in the tremendous
development of South Australia. In the past
State parochial claims and clashing political interests have prevented
the consummation of the grand work Nature ordained the Nile of
Australia to do, but at least these differences have been settled, and
in the valley of the Murray we shall see in the coming years many
thriving and prosperous settlements.
But what does he know of South Australia who only
Adelaide knows? The thought instinctively comes to one as, lifting
himself out of the city's bustle, he winds along the fertile banks of
the Murray, in whose waters, lies wealth beyond the reckoning for
generations yet to be.
By train to Morgan and thence by motor car to Berri,
the present headquarters are reached of a settlement that is rapidly
extending far out to newer areas beyond—areas that are fast developing
into a prosperous Diggers' Land.
Here gigantic preparations are in progress for
settling men who went forth to battle and are back home again, seeking
not the congested artificial life of the city but the fresh and open
spaces of a Land of Promise. These are the types of men who fought
shoulder to shoulder in the trenches and, with a comradeship forged in
the fire of conflict, are carving out their destiny in the fields of
peace and promise.
One has heard the call of the bush, but the call of
the settlements is stronger. people who shun the country miss more
than they think. Not every part of it is the dreary, unattractive
place that they might imagine , and Berri is a shining example.
few towns are more prettily situated. like a Garden
of Paradise it nestles in the valley of the Murray, a picturesque and
progressive village. The emerald green of the orchards makes an
arresting picture at the entrance to the town, a beautiful panoramic
view of which is seen from the hilltop looking down to the valley
beyond.
The lay-out of the plantations and the facilities
provided by the Government have been scientifically and thoughtfully
planned, though the township itself is altogether too cramped for the
size and importance of the district. the town allotment, however is
now being increased by the reclaiming of an area of cultivated land on
the eastern side of the present township site. The new blocks will not
be made freehold, but will be leased in perpetuity.
It was Crawford vaughan's time that the Berri
settlement was set in motion. Thus it is that the principal
thoroughfare bear such names as Vaughan, Vernan, Wallis and Crawford
Terraces and Conybeer, Wilson and Denny Streets.
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It was before the war in 1911 that Berri came to birth.
now channeling to serve about 8,200 acres has been completed. Already
6,633 acres have been allotted, and the balance of 1,545 acres of
irrigable land in this area have been cleared and planted and recently
allotted for soldier settlement. Construction
operations are now proceeding on about 3,000 acres at Lake Bonney, at
Barmera (nine miles out of Berri). At Cobdogla channeling has been
completed on the first section of the scheme to about 3,000 acres and
portion of the land allotted.
In the second lift portion of the Cobdogla area the
work is proceeding over a further 10,000 acres, and the land is being
cleared preparatory to planting for settlement by returned men. It is
estimated that the whole scheme, including Cobdogla, Lake Bonney, the
Wooshed, and Berri, will embrace about 50,000 acres of irrigable land
when completed.
Berri is scarcely 10 years old, but in that mere
span of time it has done wonders. Its growth has been magic. Down in
the valley of the river the little township nestles, surrounded by the
rich emerald green of a flourishing Garden of Eden.
But it is on the
outskirts of the town of Berri where the Diggers are being "planted"
on the soil that the newer interest lies. About four miles north-west of Berri
the soldier settlement of Lone Gum begins. This patch is now
officially called Monash, but it will probably never lose the name of
Lone Gum given it by the first soldiers who pitched camp there in
1916. Very appropriate, too, was the Diggers'
choice, for standing away in its lonely isolation three miles from the
river, like a faithful sentinel keeping watch in the scrub, is a grand
umbrageous red gum-tree, proud monarch of its surroundings. The boys
could see in that tree a sacred significance dear to their memory of
Lone Pine [Gallipoli], and so the spot at the old tree came to be
named and be known.
Thoughtfully has the Government decided
to reserve half an acre round the gum, which even more as the years
roll on will be distinguishing and hallowed landmark of this district.
This centre is in its embryo stage,
some of the plantations coming into crop for the first time this
season. In every direction acres of trees, vines principally,
are rearing their young branches and covering a wide expanse of what
was tangled bush and mallee but three years ago. Even in parts
hereabout grubbing operations are still proceeding, but for the most
part the land is now ready.
"Are you a
Digger settler!" the "Mail" man asked a small-statured man outside
whose humble "homestead" the car had pulled up.
"That's the only qualification for here", Mr. H. Berriman replied. "In
September, 1918 I planted my block of 24½ acres—20 of vines and 4½ of
apricots and oranges—and you see it to-day. In February next year I
shall be picking the first crop of grapes." |
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"You like the life?"
"It is the only life I've been used to, as I went to Mildura when I
was six years old. I am quite satisfied with the Government treatment,
and have no trouble of any kind."
Wheeling further along the roadway, fringed on each side by smiling
little orchards, the miniature cottage of a soldier clergyman is
reached. The Rev. W. F. Strachan was in
charge of St. Jude's Anglican Church, Brighton, but he got the "call" —this time not the call of the Church but of the land.
Capt. Chaplain Strachan went into the campaign with the boys, and now
he is sticking with them in peace times on the soil.
It was a tall sun-blackened, clean-shaven personality that courteously
greeted the "Mail" man. In the place of his clerical vestments were a
pair of honest moleskins, a navvy's shirt, and a cowboys sombrero, and
he looked the picture of happiness on his homely prairie.
Mr Strachan has 23½ acres—12½ of vines, of oranges, and 6 of
lucerne, but he is going to supplant three or four acres of his
lucerne with sultanas or Gordos.
"What made you leave the Church?" the writer curiously enquired.
"Well," said Mr. Strachan, "one can't get along on £200 a year, and I
have the future of my three boys to think about. After next year I
hope to be able to send them down to town."
"Have you experienced
hardships?" "Oh,", Mr. Strachan
philosophically replied, "I have been eating lucerne for the past two
years and feeding the family on it. It will be my first picking this
season, and things will be better then."
"What have been your hours?"
"From 4 in
the morning until 12 at night, but I am perfectly satisfied with the
Government treatment."
Mr. Strachan
fondly patted his horses, a pair of stanch, strong animals.
"I knew nothing about this work," he added, "until I came here, but
these have been good friends. They were skeletons, with their sides
almost together, when I picked them up. I gave £1 for the offsider and
£9 for the mare."
Such benevolent
treatment of the horse recalled Mrs. Wiggs' restoration of Cuby, a
mere carcase of an animal left abandoned on the common to die, through
the agency of some "turkentine," hot soup, and a bonfire. The old
horse, which had evidently seen a vision of the happy hunting ground
beyond, was thus brought back to sordid earth again.
Mr. Strachan is extremely popular with the men. He is secretary of the
Lone Gum branch of the Returned Soldiers' Association, president of
the Settlers' Club, the School Board, and the Anglican Church
Committee,
and vice-president of the Agricultural Bureau.
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