The Tree stands tall at the junction of the Cuballing, Wickepin, and Yealering roads, just four kilometres east of Cuballing, The Tree is a striking and historically significant White Gum that captures the spirit of the region’s early rural life. More than just a landmark, this impressive tree once served as an informal community hub where mail and parcels were left, collected, and passed on by farmers and travellers moving through the area.
Today, the Tree remains a meaningful stop for visitors interested in local history and the simple ingenuity of early country life.
Pause here to reflect on the past, enjoy the surrounding countryside, and appreciate a place that has long brought people together. The following poem adds further insight and reflection on the significance of The Tree and its place in the local story.
East of Cuballing there is a tree a knotty gnarled old whitegum
For meeting at this focal point, pioneer settlers often times would come
To discuss the districts progress, with many stories and yarns to tell
These meetings were mostly thirsty times till someone dug a well
The well became the Four Mile Well, the tree was just the tree
The parting words of settlers often were we’ll see you at the tree
The tree was where two roads met, an appropriate place to be
Because every settler who came that way would have to pass the tree
When parties met along the way, they’d tarry and chat a while
At the meeting place beside the tree they had named the Four Mile
No settler ever passed that way but would stop to see
If a message or a parcel had been left there at the tree
My last visit to Cuballing was in October 1993
Much progress had been made, the well I could not see
If the tree could speak, of stories of settlers who came and went
But the tree stands there in glory, a living monument
I tarried there a while in silent reveree
Thinking of the by gone days and the importance of the tree
If I could come back after a hundred years I would hope to see
Time and progress had been kind and had preserved the tree
The spirits of the pioneer settlers must still there dwell
At the place they called the Four Mile and the Four Mile Well
A memorial to the pioneer settlers the tree could ever be
The Four Mile would never be quite the same if it didn’t have the tree.
Written by: F W (Bill) Robinson
