TABLELAND - by Ray Salisbury

When the settlers sailed from England, in 1842
Their promised land had not been well assigned
Then the survey teams left Nelson, to find new pastures green
But Heaphy and Mackay failed to find (the)

Tableland... Tableland...
They’re searching for the golden Tableland...
To that land uplifted high, those islands in the sky
They’re looking for Mt Arthur Tableland

By 1863, the land was broken in
But many farmers struggled to survive
So Salisbury set off early, up and over Lodestone peak
He found a place where cows and sheep could thrive... (on)

Tableland... Tableland...
In rain and hail up to the Tableland...
In those golden tussock fields, all the way up to Mt Peel
They’re driving sheep up to the Tableland

Well, the news it spread like fire, they followed in Tom’s steps
The miners took supplies up Lodestone peak
They cut trees with an axe, to build their rustic shacks
Looking for the gold in Cundy Creek... (on)

Tableland... Tableland...
Prospecting for riches on the Tableland
They cooked in camp ovens, they perished by the dozens
The diggers are dying on the Tableland

In summer 1880, the Bishop’s party came
Youngsters on a camping holiday
They climbed the Pyramid, throwing snowballs like a kid
Singing all the songs that they could play

Tableland... Tableland...
They’ll tramp the Flora Track to the Tableland
They’ll camp by Bishops Cave, and search for Edwin’s grave
They’re happy to be on the Tableland

By the year of 1910, the hunters wanted deer
A herd was set free in the Flora valley
In the glory days, Harry Ferris was amazed
He shot ninety-nine in one day’s tally (on)

Tableland... Tableland...
They’re shooting all the stags on the Tableland...
From the fallows in Deep Creek, to the reds at Devil River Peak
They’re stalking deer on the Tableland

Now, some fossicked for gold, but in winter disappeared
But Henry Chaffey lived here till he died
The man was tough as boots; he ate what he could shoot
With his lover Annie by his side (on)

Tableland... Tableland...
They’re eating all the woodhen on the Tableland...
For forty years together, through the inclemental weather
The lovers living on the Tableland

Now, most believed there’s nothing new under Nelson’s sun
Well, the caving club proved that they were wrong
After crawling through the squeezes, and following the breezes
The caving teams came out and sang this song

Tableland... Tableland...
We're searching underneath the Tableland...
Through the Up ‘n’ Overs, to the Salisbury Underground
We're caving underneath the Tableland

Tableland... Tableland...
I’m going to the golden Tableland...
To that land uplifted high, those islands in the sky
I’m going to the golden Tableland