A QUEENSLAND ORANGE GARDEN

Otago Witness, Issue 2840, 19 August 1908, Page 40

A QUEENSLAND ORANGE GARDEN

fflr Will Lawsom.l

The hot mid-day sun shines down on the orange garden and on the gardens that surround it on every side, for there are miles of orange and lemon trees. The hushed land welters in the heat j at this hour of the day neither bird nor insect gives tongue j beneath a clump of gum trees on the verge of a dam which a tired stream trickles into some horses seek the scanty shade and switch lazily at the flies. In the dam two lads are swimming, the only sign of activity in this scene of sunshine. But even the swimming makes one tired, for the water is tepid, and when the swimmer emerges the baffled sunbeams, no longer thwarted by the water, pounce again on their victim and make him feel the hotter for the plunge. So the lads lounge listlessly over to the house, to sprawl on the verandah and gaze out to the hills, which look soft and cool beyond the sweep of the orange trees. The sweet, rich fragrance of the oranges is heavy on the air; in the darkgreen foliage they hang, hidden and halfhidden balls of red gold that tempt the palate. There are lemons, too. all hidden from view. Strange to think that beneath the blazing tropical sun there are among the heavy leaves of the thousands oi trees sweet nectar drawn by chemical legerdemain from the light dry earth. So does Nature mind her part, even as she sends the melon in the desert.

It is too hot to work. Lunch, or 'dinner, is taken, and then the pipes smoke on the verandah, while the content that comes of a comfortable, wellfed mind, prompts one or two efforts at conversation, efforts which languish until silence is supreme Presently the topmost leaves of the bluegums rustle softly, as though they dreamed in their slumber. The movement spreads to the lower branches, and soon the heavy-leaved orange trees take on a flutter of expectancy. It is but a gentle breeze — the breeze from the sea •which usually sets in during the afternoon, — yet what a change it brings. Away somewhere a parrot cries, harsh «nd shrill, and in the dam a bull-frog grunts, though how he knows the breeze is here it is hard to say. The men and lads rise from their recumbent potitions and assume an air that seems to tell of work on hand. And so there is — the task of picking oranges, oranges and lemons. It keeps them busy until dusk, -some gathering, some sorting and grading, «,ftd one man nailing the cases down when Tolled. In small orchards the grower's "wife and daughters will lend a hand in the fruit. While they work j-the sun, setting ever to the west, touches ifche ridge of the range with his lower •rim, and, like the "sudden opening of n. musical box, the bird and insect ,life finds voice. The "magpies" ■which are really black and white crows, fly overhead, returning to their rookeries in the hills ; parrots call and finches whistle, and the orchestra, of tree and swamp- and the big bright green grace frogs, sends out a volume of discordant sound. The range seems to be growing rapidly upward with the sun's orb. Soon there is no sun to see, and the glorious toghte that are his after-guard, the rear.guard in his march through space, change chameleon-like their gorgeous colours, till there is only a rapidly-fading pinkness . in the steel blue of the sky. There is but «n short twilight in Queensland ; no long delight "of soft lights as in Otago. The .workers of the garden have finished their ■packing of fruit; the cases are, 6tacked •in a 6hed, in readiness for carting in the ■morning. Lamps are lit in the house and men's hut (the native name is " gunyah "), and the Queensland Scots Greys, the regiment of mosquitoes which patrol the countryside, set out on their foragingparties in search of blood — human blood preferred. It is very early, in the cold hour just preceding the dawn, when a man turns out and goes in search of his horses. "Bringing them into the yard, he gives each a boxful of chaff, with a couple of Kstndfuls of maize to sweeten it, and gets himself some breakfast. Soon there are others stirring, for it is in the early morning that the men do their heavy work, resting or doing light work in the noonday hours. The cases are loaded into the two-wheeled spring-cart, and the horses, having fed, are liarnessed, one in the shafts, the other in traces from

a swingle-bar arranged to allow him to run alongside his mate. In the pale daylight the tree 6 loom dark and large. In the gums there is a twitter of waking •sparrows. Out of the yard and on to tpe road the horses are driven, the daylight growing brighter rapidly. Away to the east, splendid colours blaze in the eky, forerunners of the sun. Along the red-earth road the wheels roll and the 'hoofs beat in an atmosphere of oranges , «nd crisp, clean morning air, the valley «nd ranges lying cool and fresh in the growing light. In a tree near by a kooka-burra, the laughing packass, raises & chuckle and evokes a protest from hie mate, who eeems to think she might slumber awhile. The harness clinka end creaks, and the Tiorses blow smoke-

wreaths from their nostrils. Then on the crests of the gum trees bordering the road a red, rich light caresses tho dull, grey leaves, and the kooka-burra, no longer to be suppressed, bursts into a shrill cackle of laughter, his'mate joining in, reluctantly, in a bass monotone which gives the effect of hilarious, p-uttural laughter. The wliole world is awake now, the crows _ fly down from the ranges, whistling and piping, vbence their name, the Piping Crow; pariols shrifk flying overhead in flocks, all sc&rjet and green and gold, the stockwhip bird cj-apks his imaginary whip aivi fugh's of ooMfcr lards and teather-bssad« nfoße they WHf Jo their feeding gTOu-wif. ,&/•$ nee* lh# road passes a pinwippl* rtlxnfcfeoa. itften

and acres of pineapples growing in lines ] parallel and diagonally, and the fragrance of them is sweeter than that ot the oranjges. The sun is clear of the horizon, and already it is growing hot, and the driver whips up his horses so as to get ( to the railway and back before the heat j is great. i

This is a glimpse of the life on an orange orchard in Queensland during the picking season in such gardens as exist in the coast districts on the Logan and Albert and Pine JRivers and out towards the mountains a+ Gatton. There are many gardens elsewhere, but these are the districts the writer knows of personally, and in these places are great areas of orange trees. The life appears to be an ideal one, and co it would be were it not for the heat and the swai'ming insect life. The potentialities of Queensland will always cany a handicap in these two items. And. in these days of restless spirits, when the men it our south are moving north and the northerners cast eyes still further north to Queensland, it is well to bear in mind that though there are many lands of .greater areas and distances, yet for climate and comfortable independence there is none to equal ours : and you can giow oranges in Central Otago.