Читать книгу Rambles in Australia онлайн

39 страница из 43

Bridgetown is the centre of the fruit-growing district of Western Australia. Motor-cars were waiting to show us the neighbourhood, and we started in the golden light of the late afternoon sun to see something of the country. It was our first experience of Australian motorists. To enjoy motoring in Australia one must have an adventurous disposition. Except in the neighbourhood of large towns the roads are very rough; indeed, the long droughts make it impossible that they should be otherwise. The soft, dry soil crumbles away, the light dust is stirred up by every passing vehicle, leaving deep ruts, so that the same road is often on different levels, and a car runs along at a sharp angle, with one wheel poised on the edge of a rut, and the other in a hollow. Practised drivers achieve this difficult accomplishment with much skill and the minimum of jolting, but even so, the car often takes flying leaps. So we started on an apparently breakneck career, holding tight on to the sides of the motor, and dashed up and down hills that an English motorist would have hesitated to look at, red and rutty as a Devonshire lane in winter. We never knew the name of that kindly motorist, who so gallantly risked his own and our lives, not to mention his machine, in showing us as much as possible of the surrounding country before the light faded. He was one of the many, many unknown friends who did us some passing kindness on our rapid journey, leaving only a warm memory behind it. Hail and farewell to each and all of them!