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If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Colonial facts and fictions - Humorous sketches - -Author: Mark Kershaw - -Release Date: December 19, 2022 [eBook #69580] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Emmanuel Ackerman, Krista Zaleski and the Online - Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This - book was produced from scanned images of public domain - material from the Google Books project.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK COLONIAL FACTS AND -FICTIONS *** - - - - - - -COLONIAL FACTS AND FICTIONS. - - - - - COLONIAL - - FACTS AND FICTIONS - - Humorous Sketches - - By MARK KERSHAW - - - London - - CHATTO AND WINDUS, PICCADILLY - 1886 - - [_The right of translation is reserved_] - - - - -CONTENTS. - - - PAGE - - NORTH AUSTRALIA 1 - - QUEENSLAND 23 - - ADVENTURES WITH A BOOMERANG 64 - - DARLING DOWNS AND NEW ENGLAND 71 - - A NEWCASTLE LEGEND; OR, THE STORY OF THE DARK ROOM 82 - - THE ROYAL SOCIETY OF HULLOOMALOO 111 - - A WONDERFUL BATH 126 - - A CIRCULAR STORY 134 - - EARLY DAYS IN MELBOURNE; OR, CAPTAIN STRINGER - AND THE WATERS OF JOGGA WOGGA 147 - - TASMANIA 158 - - JOHNSON’S BOY 162 - - THE SMELTING WORKS 168 - - THE STORY OF A POST-BOX 179 - - NEW ZEALAND; OR, THE LAND OF THE MAORIS AND MOAS 192 - - THE RABBIT DIFFICULTY EXPLAINED 209 - - DICKEY ADAMS 223 - - ABOUT EARTHQUAKES 227 - - TRIP TO THE HOT LAKES 254 - - A SYSTEMATIC GUIDE-BOOK 284 - - THE JOURNEY TO NEW ZEALAND 286 - - COACHING IN NEW ZEALAND 288 - - THE HOT LAKES 290 - - THE COLD LAKES 292 - - SUNRISES AND SUNSETS 294 - - GENERAL ASPECT OF NATURE IN NEW ZEALAND 296 - - - - -Colonial Facts and Fictions. - - - - -_NORTH AUSTRALIA._ - - -Residents in foreign lands often think that it is an impertinence if a -passing stranger write about them. Those who have been for a long time -resident in a country seldom write a description of their experiences. -About many things they seem to have learnt how little they really -know, whilst to things of every-day occurrence they have become so -accustomed, that they do not think them worthy of description. The -persons who do write, and who delight to write about a place, are the -birds of passage. These persons know very little about their subject. -The very fact of only knowing a little about a place adds a charm to -an attempt at its description. If you know everything about it you are -inclined to write a series of facts, while if you only know a little, -there is room for the exercise of the imagination, and the production -becomes a combination of truths and untruths. - -Reading a book of facts is like reading a dictionary. To make facts -palatable they must be diluted as you dilute whisky. Never having been -blessed with a capacity for gleaning facts, I have gradually come to -dislike them. Now and again facts have been unpleasantly thrust upon -my attention. Some facts come out of two bottles. You take an inch of -one and dilute it with two inches of the other. In many respects these -facts may be compared to the high and low pressure cylinders of a -marine engine. Other facts come out of tall, gilt-necked bottles. First -they pop, and then they fizzle. When you have imbibed a lot of these -facts, at first you feel jolly. Afterwards you feel unwell. The facts -I picked up at Port Darwin gave me a headache. When I came to P.D. (it -is an Australian custom to abbreviate), I did not know the difference -between a kangaroo’s tail and a gum tree. I do not think that I knew -very much more when I left. - -The first thing that happened when we dropped anchor, was that the -anchor made a great splash in the water. This was followed by the -rattling of the chain, and a great deal of vibration. We had many -Chinamen on board, and as Australians dislike Chinamen, they do what -they can to keep them out of their country. At every port, wherever -we went, no matter whether the Chinamen were to land or not, they -had to pass a medical inspection. At some of the ports the doctors -also inspected the Europeans. ‘Let me look at your forehead, now your -chest--Um, no spots. That will do.’ - -The doctors hold their appointments from the Government; the Government -holds its appointment from the working man. The working man, the -horny-handed son of toil, bosses Australia. It is the ‘navy’ to whom -we must look for the stringency of the quarantine regulations of -Australia. At the present time it is reported in Australia that there -is cholera in China. That a ship has a clean bill of health, although -it may have come from a non-infected port, although China is as big as -Europe, although the ship has been nearly a month at sea, on arriving -at Sydney she must go in quarantine. You come from China, you have -Chinamen on board; we don’t want you, and therefore in the face of -reason and justice, we will do what we can to throw difficulties in -your way. But more of this by-and-bye. I am in a hurry to get past the -facts. - -The water at Port Darwin is dirty green, and it is full of sharks. When -people bathe they do so in a big thing like a bird-cage, and the whales -and the sharks have to snuffle about outside. These animals are said -to regard this treatment as unusually rough. The town at Port Darwin -is called Palmerston, but the two names are pretty well synonymous. -The place is located on the level table-land like ground above the -low cliffs which fringe the bay. Some of the houses, including the -Residency, the Government offices, and a town-hall, are built of -stone. Nearly all the other houses are built of corrugated iron. The -internal arrangement of these latter buildings, which are lofty and -gable ended, is quite ecclesiastical. The streets are wide and at -right angles. The houses occur at intervals along the sides of these -streets. Some of the streets have lots of grass in them. I heard that -it was suggested to run up a tall tower in the town to see the Russian -fleet approaching. The Russophobia has run throughout the colonies, -and I shall have to refer to it very often. There are about two hundred -whites in Palmerston, six or eight hundred yellow Chinamen, and a few -aboriginal ‘blacks.’ The ‘whites’ have in addition to the town-hall, -several hotels, a public library, a race-course, a cricket ground, two -or three tennis-courts, rifle butts, and a dramatic corps. There are -some wells in the place, but a lot of water is collected in corrugated -iron water-tanks. Many of the residents have an idea that the water -is not good, and in order to keep down the _comma bacillus_ and other -microscopic organisms, it is advisable to dilute it with liquors -imported from Europe. The place is called Port Darwin, because it was -evolved out of nothing. The town was called Palmerston because many of -the early inhabitants had a habit of carrying a twig in their mouth. - -One of the first things we did on landing was to make a pilgrimage to -the various hotels. Our object was to see the town, and to read the -latest papers. Many of these establishments would be creditable to any -town. All of them have mahogany bars, garnished with long white handles -to pump up beer. These handles made a great impression upon me--in -fact they were indirectly the cause of my suffering from nightmare. -That night I had a dream that my head rested on a mahogany counter, -and while in this uncomfortable position a young lady, who had got me -by the back hair, gave me a series of vigorous pulls. While this was -going on, my tormentor smiled and inquired whether I preferred stout or -bitter? I should have remonstrated, but my nose was too close to the -counter for me to speak. Do what I would, backwards and forwards went -my face across the slippery board, and the musical ‘stout or bitter, -sir,’ kept ringing in my ears. At length the movement changed, and -instead of having my nose burnished, it was being bumped. This I was -told was because I had not replied to the fair persecutor, who, as her -anger increased at my reticence, appeared to expand like a concertina. -As she grew bigger and bigger, I grew less and less. Suddenly there was -a fearful crash, and I awoke to find that Peter’s hat-box had fallen -from a rack upon my head. My head with the rolling of the ship had been -sliding up and down against the side of my berth, and I imagine that -the ‘bob-e-te-bob’ of the screw had been the ‘stout or bitter, sir.’ -The blue-ribbon faction in Australia are at present trying to introduce -a bill for the abolition of barmaids in Australia. After my dream I -felt inclined to offer them my support. - -While at the hotel, Peter and I were introduced to an aboriginal. He -was black in colour, tall in stature, and had a curly hair. They called -him Charlie. I was told that he had been caught wild at a place in -the bush about one hundred miles back. When he was first caught the -landlord said he was a perfect terror. If you only looked at him, he -would snap his jaws, and grind his teeth together like a couple of -millstones, and when his passion reached a climax, he would swivel -his eyes round and round in circles, snort like a bull, and jump up -and down vertically. Charlie was now quite tame, and if we would give -him a bob he would take us to an encampment. The opportunity was too -good to be lost, for we might now obtain some authentic information -about the aborigines. Before starting, Charlie asked for the shilling, -remarking that it should not be squandered in the pot-house, but be -kept in remembrance of this visit. We recommended him to forward it -to some jeweller in Melbourne, who would mount the coin as a brooch -for his wife. Charlie thanked us for the suggestion, and said that he -would consult with his family on the subject, and let us know their -decision in the evening. The road to the encampment led by the side of -the cricket ground, after which there was a sharp descent to the beach. -Not having the agility of the antelope, the latter part of the journey -was very trying. As Charlie bounded from crag to crag, I observed that -the cartilaginous divisional membrane between his nostrils had been -perforated. Peter, whose attention I had called to this unnatural -aperture, was quite shocked, and remarked that the attention of the -Government ought to be drawn to this custom. - -The dwellings of the natives were made of a few bent sticks covered -with scraps of old bags, bits of bark, and butter tins. The average -height of one of these houses was about three feet. You had to enter -on all fours, and, when inside, you could enjoy a capital view of the -stars, or of the surrounding scenery, through the cracks and rents in -the roof and wall. As there was no room to turn round, you came out -backwards. The only inmate of the camp was Charlie’s wife--Mary--the -remainder of the tribe were away on a fishing excursion. At the time -of our arrival Mary was sitting in a hole she had scraped in the sand, -playing with a small fox terrier and six small pups. - -As we approached, Mary rose. She was dressed in a black skirt with -six flounces, and had on her feet a pair of French boots. Her back, -like the backs of all the native beauties in these parts, was done -in ridges. These ridges are produced by making cuts with a piece of -flint or glass, and then rubbing in a quantity of sand or gritty -earth. The custom originated by an endeavour to imitate the corrugated -iron buildings of the Europeans. Charlie said that his wife derived -considerable comfort from the ridges. A rigid surface freed itself from -water better than a smooth one; also, as Mary often slept outside, the -ridges raised her from the damp earth. He had heard that this custom -had been highly approved of at the Healtheries. - -‘Mary,’ said Charlie, addressing his wife, ‘allow me to introduce to -you a sample of the distinguished strangers from the _Leviathan_ now -anchored in our bay.’ - -‘Gentlemen,’ said he turning to us, ‘allow me to have the pleasure of -introducing you to my spouse.’ Mary gracefully inclined her head, and -blushed a whitish-grey. We bowed. - -‘Be seated, gentlemen, be seated. Make yourselves at home,’ said -Charlie, pointing to the sand, and then, turning to his blushing wife, -suggested that refreshments would be acceptable. - -While Mary was engaged at a decayed stump searching for the delicate -and creamy grub known to scientists as the _Vermiculites filiformis_ -on which to regale her guests, Charles told us the following touching -story of her capture. - -‘Well, it came about in this way,’ said Charlie, clearing his throat -and expectorating on the sand. ‘Mary and I had been married a month or -so when we thought we would take a run down to the seaside as a wind-up -for our honeymoon. For a week or so it was a blaze of sunshine, which, -gentlemen, is not unusual in these parts. All day long we wandered up -and down the beach, chasing little crabs and gathering up shells. At -night, tired with paddling in the water, we scratched a hole in the -sand, and slumbered. One morning I awoke and I found I was alone. I -didn’t think much of it at the time, for Mary had a habit of rising -early to catch a particular kind of worm for which she knew I had a -partiality. As time passed, I felt a little anxious, and looked about -me to see if it was possible to discover the direction which Mary -had followed. I tracked her to the beach, and then down to the edge -of the water, but as the tide had risen beyond this, her footsteps -had been obliterated. “Mary, Mary, my love, where are you?” I cried. -But no response beyond the lapping of the waves. That day I must -have travelled nigh on twenty miles to the Eastward, in the hopes of -discovering some sign of Mary’s whereabouts. At one time I thought she -had deceived me, and had fled with an unknown lover. I vowed vengeance. -That night I had to sleep in a hole by myself. Next day I travelled -well on forty miles to the Westward, when just as the sun was going -down, I came on tracks as thick as if there had been a mob of cattle -passing. The few minutes of daylight that remained, for you know, sir, -in these parts when the sun goes down, the light disappears as quickly -as when you blow out a lamp, I spent in examining the tracks to see if -I could find one corresponding to the hoof of my Mary. Just before -the light went out, I found the print of a toe which I thought might -have been hers. Beyond this there was another little round hole, then a -third one, and then a fourth one--one following the other in a crooked -line. After I had seen the series there was no doubt in my mind but -that I was on Mary’s track. But why was Mary travelling on one toe, and -in crooked lines? Had she been waltzing? Was she intoxicated? Had some -heathen lopped off her other toes? Who were her companions? While I was -thinking over this and a hundred other questions, it became quite dark, -and I sat down at the foot of a tree to wait for dawn. I had hardly -been there a couple of hours, when a low wailing sound came on the -breeze, which had just set in down a neighbouring gully. It was Mary’s -voice, and I was off in an instant. In twenty minutes or so I had -reached the side of my dusky bride, who, to my horror, I found lashed -to a tree. I quickly untied the bonds, and we wept upon each other’s -necks. Mary then told me how, when she had risen to capture the early -worm, she had suddenly been captured herself by a party of “whites,” -who, after putting a gag in her mouth, had carried her off to the place -where I had found her. As she was borne alone, she kept putting her -foot down to the sand, and thus the toe marks. Her captors were close -in the neighbourhood, and had gone in search of me. We must get off at -once. Our first move was to hurry towards the beach, where we should -be able to travel quickly. Arriving on the shore we almost immediately -ran upon a number of tracks similar to those I had seen yesterday. They -came _from_ the bush down to the edge of the water, and then appeared -to branch off in both directions along the shore line. Now this is what -I want you to mark,’ said Charlie, tapping the ashes out of his pipe on -the toe of his boot: ‘the tracks came down _from_ the bush. Not _up_ to -the bush. “It is impossible to travel on the shore,” said Mary to me; -“we had better take the opposite direction, and enter the bush where -the strangers came out.” Little thinking what was about to happen, -hand in hand we entered the bush. We had hardly passed the first -thicket, than there was a dreadful yell, and Mary and I found ourselves -enveloped in a net. The rest of the story was short: we were bound, -brought into Palmerston, exhibited for a week in a show, and finally -tamed.’ - -‘But how was it,’ said Peter, ‘that you made such a blunder as to think -you were going in the opposite direction to those who caught you?’ - -‘Well, it was just this way,’ replied Charlie: ‘those whites didn’t -act square, knowing if I came along the beach looking for Mary I was -not going to run into their arms; _they just walked backwards from the -shore up to where they had set their darned net_. The blacks are up -to this backward trick now, so the new dodge is to catch their wives -first, and tie them up to a tree as bait to catch their husbands. That -is why they call the black women “gins.”’ - -When we returned to the hotel, we asked the landlord if he had ever -heard the story of Charlie’s capture. He looked at us for a minute, -and then went off in roars. ‘Why,’ said he, ‘Charlie tells that same -old lie to everyone as comes. How much did you give him for the -entertainment?’ - -That night Peter and I accepted an invitation to dine at a house where -there was a collection of pet animals very closely resembling a happy -family. I can only describe those which made some impression on me. -One animal was a great slate-coloured bird like a stork. Usually it -contented itself with standing stock still, posing as a bronze image. -When you advanced to admire the beautiful workmanship, it would give -a little ‘sold again’ sort of wink, and walk away. Another remarkable -creation was a parrot who was always edging along sideways towards -you, as if desirous of seeing how near you would allow it to put its -eye to yours. I suggested that it should be provided with a cage. The -most remarkable animal of all was a male sheep. This had once been a -little lamb skipping about with a blue ribbon round its neck. Since -its early days it had grown to the size of a young ox, and therefore, -instead of wandering about the house, it had been placed together with -other sheep in a paddock inside. In going home that night we had to -cross this paddock. As it was close on midnight my companions said -that danger need not be apprehended, the sheep would certainly be -sleeping. I once thought of turning my attention to sheep-farming, but -after my experiences on that memorable evening I think that all sheep -ought to be kept in cages, or at least wear muzzles. In was 12 p.m. -on the 4th of July. When in future years Americans see me rejoicing -on the glorious 4th, they need not embrace me as a faithful citizen. -My thanksgivings will be to commemorate deliverance from the jaws of -a ferocious sheep. The name of this sheep is Billy. I first saw Billy -standing in the moonlight. The moment my companions saw him, there was -a general stampede. I am thankful to state that I kept well in the van. -As to what occurred during the next ten minutes I can only speak from -memory. There was no time allowed for taking notes. For two or three -minutes or so, I am told that I was seen passing very rapidly backwards -and forwards over and through some wire fencing. During this time I can -remember a snorting and rustling going on at the distance of about two -feet from my coat-tails. Each time that I slipped between the wires I -could feel the warm breath of my pursuer near my body. Once or twice I -heard some vicious, blood-curdling snaps. At last there was a pause. -I was on one side of the railings and Billy was on the other. About -two feet away from us was an open gate, which at once explained the -continued proximity of Billy’s nose to my coat-tails. After grinding -his jaws, he snuffed defiantly, threw his head in the air, and marched -away. Billy had certainly cleared the field. It took us fully ten -minutes to collect together, and then ten minutes more to clear our -pockets and shoes of dirt and gravel. The whole thing had been like a -thunderstorm. So much for the innocence and docility of sheep. I shall -say more about Australian sheep in another chapter. - -Next day a nice-looking fellow, called Pater, invited us to join a -shooting-party. This would give me an opportunity of seeing something -of the bush, so I embraced the offer. As Billy occupied the paddock, -it was necessary to make a detour, and we were in consequence rather -late for breakfast. We started in a buggy. The euphonious word ‘buggy’ -is applied to a vehicle not unlike a waggonette. The place we went -to was called ‘The Lagoons.’ I believe they were the lagoons of some -particular person, but I forget his name. It was a long drive of -perhaps ten or twelve miles, through tolerably open woods, made up of -gum trees and screw palms. The gum trees grew anywhere and anyhow, but -the screw palms grew with a corkscrew-like arrangement of their leaves, -and only in places where there is water. If everything could arrive -at a helical condition by imbibing water, what a time the sailors -would have! Our road lay along a proposed railway track, and near an -existing telegraph line. The railway line will lead to the mining -districts, about 150 miles away. The telegraph line leads to Adelaide, -nearly 2,000 miles distant. In position it is something like a line of -longitude. We thought of following the line of telegraph to Adelaide, -but as we heard that the journey usually took two years, our friends -persuaded us to give up the notion. - -Here and there we saw a lot of ant-hills. These ants have white bodies -and look like little grubs. I forget the colour of their heads. Most -ants are very active, and appear to be continually dodging about in a -variety of directions. These ants are very slow in their movements. -If you had not been told that they were ants, you would be inclined -to call them cheese-maggots. To all appearance they are without any -particular points, and as ants they are certainly below the average. - -The only thing which makes North Australian ants conspicuous is their -work. In the woods their business appears to be carting dirt. Five or -six ants club together, and having selected a site, they commence to -cart dirt, and they continue carting dirt until they die. Then their -children cart dirt. Finally the grandchildren cart dirt. And so carting -dirt is continued from generation to generation, until at last carting -dirt has become a family mania. All this dirt is piled up to make a -mound like a small volcano or a meat-cover. The meat-covers that I -saw would hold two or three fair-sized oxen. Of how long it takes to -make a meat-cover I am unable to give any exact information, but if I -had resided at Port Darwin for a few thousand years I might possibly -have obtained some exact date. For argument’s sake, if we suppose that -twenty ants, and I never saw more than twenty together in one volcano, -carry a pound of dirt per annum, and a given monument weighs two tons, -then to build this particular monument it must have taken at least -4,480 years. If, however, just for variety we assume, that a particular -meat-cover weighed forty tons, then, with the other assumptions, a -meat-cover must have taken 90,000 years to build. Look at the question -as we will, the Port Darwin ants possess a history that will vie with -that of ancient Egypt. - -In one or two places the ants had given a character to the scenery. -Some of them, instead of following the meat-cover plan of construction, -have built slab-like structures. A group of these erections looked like -a graveyard, where the form and position of the monuments had been -regulated by legislation. These ants were evidently of a melancholic -turn of mind. From careful meteorological observations, carried on -during a long series of years, it would appear that they had determined -the direction of the prevailing winds, and had placed these slabs end -on to this direction. These were magnetical ants, and might possibly be -able to correct a compass. - -What all these ants had in their heads when they first started these -structures, no one has yet discovered. Perhaps, having travelled over -the whole of the Australian continent, they had become disgusted at its -flatness, and therefore had endeavoured to alleviate the monotony by -building up towns. Maybe they feared a flood. - -These are the country ants. The town ants, having during the last -few years discovered that their structures form a good cement for -tennis-courts and other purposes, have adopted different tactics. -Instead of having their houses bored into, their great delight is -to bore into the houses of other people. They approach a house by -subterranean covered ways. Reaching a post, they bore up it from the -bottom to the top, only finishing when they have left a shell of paint. -Then they take a second post. Next they may attack a door. This they -eat out until it is as hollow as a drum. After this they attack the -stationary furniture, approaching everything by covered passages. -Somehow they manage to come through the floor just beneath the centre -of the leg of the table, or whatever it is they intend to devour. A -sheet of lead is no obstruction. I have seen sheets of lead eaten -away as if they had been so many pieces of woollen cloth. They began -with dirt, next they took to wood, and now they eat metal. They are -herbiferous, carniverous, metaliverous, dirtiferous, and all the other -‘iverouses’ that have yet been discovered. - -Not long ago a bank manager had to write to his directors that he -regretted to inform them that there was a deficiency in his treasury. -A large quantity of bullion had been devoured by white ants. The reply -came by wire, ‘File their teeth.’ - -The first bird that was shot was a great big white cockatoo. All the -other cockatoos, that were with the one we shot, fled away. This -happened at a small shanty standing near the edge of a lagoon. I should -have shot the cockatoo myself, but it looked too much like slaughtering -a domestic fowl. Cockatoos were good to eat, they make excellent pies, -and I must shoot every one I saw; but--and here my companions were very -impressive--be careful and not get ‘bushed.’ - -To get ‘bushed’ means to get lost. A direction was pointed out to me -where I might meet with some geese. Being in a strange land, surrounded -with strange sights, in the midst of woods which, for aught I know, -might be tenanted by blacks and bushrangers, I was a little nervous. -This was heightened by the caution I had received about getting -‘bushed.’ It wouldn’t do to show the white feather, so waving an adieu -to my companions, I put my gun on my shoulder, and started into a cane -brake which skirted the side of the lagoon. It was simply horrible; you -could not see where you were going to, or where you had come from. At -every step your feet plopped into water; now and then you received a -slap across the face from an unusually elastic reed that had slipped -past your gun barrel. Here and there the bottom became so swampy that -I felt I might be bogged. This led to rushing and jumping between bits -of hard ground and tussocks of grass. Once or twice I found that I -had become impaled by the nostril on a cane that had been sticking out -horizontally. To unthread myself I had to walk backwards. Perhaps this -is the way in which the blacks get their noses bored. After ten minutes -or so of earthly purgatory, I had advanced perhaps fifty yards. Not -having any intention of training for a bushranger, not even if I could -have shot all the cockatoos and geese in Australia, I picked out a dry -looking spot, and sat down upon a bundle of reeds. While mopping the -perspiration off my face, looking at my bird-cage like surrounding, -and, I may add, reflecting on my folly, I heard a loud crackling in -the canes. It was evident that some big brute was approaching. There -are alligators in North Australia, and perhaps this was one of them on -his way to get a drink. I would have shouted to my companions, but by -this time I knew that they were far away. Then my tongue seemed to be -paralyzed and my hair was bristling. Suddenly the noise ceased. The -brute had stopped, and I pictured it with its nose upon the ground -snuffing at my tracks. At that moment I would have given the whole of -Far Cathay, had it been mine, for a moderate-sized tree. The only trees -were in the direction from which my pursuer was approaching. Suddenly -the crashing recommenced. The animal had snuffed me out, and was coming -on in bounds. Another crash, and the monarch of the swamp stood before -me. It wasn’t an alligator, but a hairy, snipe-faced animal with -long thin legs and an elegant waist. It might have been a dingo or a -kangaroo. Anyhow, as it did not look very ferocious, I would try and -capture it alive. For some minutes we looked at each other. As it was -clear that it did not intend to open the conversation, and there was no -one near to give us a proper introduction, I put on an idiotic smile, -and holding out my hand said, ‘Poor doggy--poor ’ittle doggy’--‘poor -’ittle doggy woggy.’ The last phrase seemed to fetch it, for it waggled -its tail, but when I rose to make an advance it put its nose in the -air, gave a sniff, turned round, and bounded off. Later on, I found -that the animal was a Scotch deer-hound, belonging to a party who had -come out to the shanty for a picnic, arriving just after I had entered -the cane brake. - -When I got out of the cane brake I registered a vow never to enter -another cane brake while in Australia. The next place where I found -myself was in some tolerably open woods. Here I could see what was -coming, and if anything large appeared there were lots of friendly -trees. The first thing I fell in with were a lot of parrots. These were -of all sizes, shapes, and colours. From the manner in which they were -guffawing and screeching at each other, they appeared to have assembled -for an important debate. If each of them had been provided with a -little tin pot and a chain, the resemblance of my surroundings would -have been very like the parrot-house in the Zoo. Having been told that -cockatoos were game, I picked out what looked like a good-looking bird -of the cockatoo order, and dropped him as dead as a door nail. When I -picked it up, instead of being a cockatoo, to my great astonishment, -it turned out to be some kind of pink parrot. The parrots that had not -been shot, instead of flying away as the cockatoos had done, surrounded -me and my prize, and commenced a pandemonium of screeches that it will -take long to forget. Most of them sat in the trees, but others flew -over my head. What they said I could not well make out, but a lot of -it sounded like ‘Oh! you blackguard,’ ‘you blackguard.’ ‘Who shot poor -Polly?’ The confusion was only paralleled by that which overwhelmed -Baalam. But not being in a mood to be bullied by a parcel of parrots, -I picked up my game and marched towards the camp. All the way I was -accompanied by a flock of flapping pollies. Some went in front, some -came along on my flanks, while some were behind me bringing up the -rear--they were like mosquitoes. Every one of them was yelling and -squalling fit to break their throats. A pretty lot of companions. Now -and then, one bolder than the rest, would almost touch my head. At -one time I felt inclined to bury my game. The next moment I thought I -would shoot a few of the tormentors. This, however, might only lead to -greater trouble. It was certain I could not go into camp with a troop -of yelling parrots after me, but how was I to get rid of them? As we -went on they appeared to increase in numbers, and their yelling became -louder and louder. I now began to regret that I had shot a pink parrot. -When within a hundred yards or so of the shanty, I saw an old gentleman -with a lady and two or three youngsters seated round a table-cloth. -To complete the party there was my snipe-nosed friend of the cane -brake, looking out for the tail ends of ham sandwiches. Here a bright -thought struck me. If I were to drop my game near to the picnickers, -my infuriated companions might perhaps get mixed, as to who had been -the murderer. It worked beautifully. Holding the parrot behind my -back, I walked up to within ten or twelve yards of the unsuspecting -pleasure party, and, without stopping, dropped Polly and walked along. -What happened after my absence I did not stop to see; all that I knew -is that when I returned the picnickers had departed. The pink parrot -had also gone. Shortly after this I blundered on a second lagoon, -which was fringed with tall grass. Before me there was a flock of -geese. On the opposite side of the lagoon, and evidently stalking the -geese, there were two of my companions up to their arm-pits in water. -I felt extremely sorry for my companions, for the geese, on seeing me, -immediately rose, and I shot one of them. From the gesticulations of my -companions I could see that they were annoyed, so I quickly retreated, -congratulating myself at being out of gun-shot. After this I met with -a multitude of adventures. The greatest surprise, however, was on my -way back to the shanty, where we were to meet for lunch. That I met -with a wild beast, there is no doubt. It passed in front of me at a -distance of about six feet when I first saw it; its head was in the -bushes, and it appeared to be about as long as my gun. It was like a -log of wood moving end on. There was no crackling this time. It simply -slid along like a panorama, passing out of sight into a clump of screw -pines. For a moment I was rooted to the spot; my heart palpitated, and -my hair bristled. What was the phenomenon? Could it be anything less -than an alligator? If it was a baby alligator, where were papa and -mamma? Should I go on, or should I turn round and run? The way I did -go was backwards and sideways, the whole time pointing my gun at the -clump of screw pines. Each time that a leaf rustled or I saw a crooked -stump, I prepared for the final struggle. When I got back my companions -told me it was only an iguana, and I ought to have shot it. They made -first-rate curry. I spent the afternoon in keeping camp, watering -the horses, and washing up the plates. While doing this, I saw Pater -stalking some geese up to his neck in water, at the opposite side of -the lagoon to where we were encamped. He shot one of them, and then -putting his gun ashore swam about a quarter of a mile out amongst a lot -of water-lilies to retrieve the game. Until I saw him safe ashore I was -quite concerned about his safety. To be a successful sportsman about -Port Darwin you ought to be about eight or nine feet long, and not mind -wading. - -Everything having been nicely arranged about the camp, I took the -cushions out of the buggy, and prepared myself for a siesta. Then I -dozed. Just as I had reached the middle of an interesting dream, I -was awakened by crackling and a cloud of smoke. Here was a pretty go. -The bush was on fire, and within half a mile wild flames were leaping -up higher than church steeples. This was worse than alligators. The -horses might be saved by turning them free, but the buggy,--well, the -buggy might be saved if it was of cast-iron. To get a better view of -the conflagration, I climbed on the roof of the shanty. The wind was -blowing straight at me, and, at every gust, the flames would seethe -along fifty yards nearer. Nearer and nearer came the flames. Hotter and -hotter grew the gusts of air, thicker and thicker came the clouds of -smoke and smut, louder and louder grew the roaring. Oh! what an ass I -had been to venture into the Australian bush! Just as I was setting -the horses free, Pater turned up and asked me what I was about. ‘The -fire,’ said I. And then he laughed. ‘Why, we set it going ourselves. It -can’t possibly cross that patch of green stuff.’ - -This was the end of my first experience in the bush. We were all of us -awfully tired when we got back, and slept like tops. - -Port Darwin is by no means a bad place. For many years North Australia -was a white-elephant country, but now it is a land of promise. It is a -sort of colony within a colony, being attached to South Australia by -the same sort of bonds that South Australia is attached to England. At -present Port Darwin is the terminus of the cables from Europe, and the -land lines are the Australian colonies. Before a great many years it -hopes, by being the terminus of a transcontinental railway, to become -a San Francisco or New York. When this is made, the journey to and -from the colonies will be considerably shortened; six hundred miles -of line now run northwards from Adelaide, and very shortly there will -be 150 miles of line southwards from Port Darwin. This latter line -will open up a number of valuable mining districts, where gold, copper -and tin are already being worked. In addition to mining industries, -North Australia offers a good field for the squatter and planter. The -squatters, with herds of horned cattle, have already been successful. -The planters have, however, thus far failed. When they had good land -they wanted capital, and, where they had capital, they were unfortunate -in their selection of land. On the coast there are the pearl shell -fisheries. - -By-and-bye we shall hear that Port Darwin has become as famous as the -distinguished savant who gave to it its name. Port Darwin, Good luck! -and good-bye. - - - - -_QUEENSLAND._ - - -In my last letter I told you about our experiences at Port Darwin. It -took us exactly three days to get over those experiences. Those who -didn’t sleep, sat on cane chairs gazing at the Gulf of Carpentaria, -thinking of their past folly, and speculating when the next flying -fish would rise. There is not much excitement in tropical seas. You -seldom if ever see a ship, and birds, if there are any, are too languid -to take exercise. All is dead save the movement of the waters, and -the fluttering of flying fish. We had related all our stories, and it -was too hot to invent new ones. After about two hours of silence in -the afternoon of the second day, the lively Peter said he would bet a -new hat that we could not find in Dod’s atlas, islands corresponding -to all the days of the week. I forgot to tell you that one of Dod’s -chief amusements was to mark out his route in a big atlas which he -had brought with him. Peter’s proposal was accepted, and I am sorry -to record the fact that I lost the hat. I am sure that I didn’t lose -because the islands do not exist, but because Dod’s atlas was not -big enough. It did not even mark the great Thursday Island, which we -were approaching. If there had only been a detailed map of the north -end of Australia, I think I should have won. Tuesday, Wednesday, and -Friday Islands exist near Thursday Island, and the only island about -which I should have been doubtful, would have been a Sunday island. I -don’t think the people who live near the land’s end of the Australian -continent could harmonize with an island named after the seventh day. I -wonder if Peter looked at the atlas before he made the bet? - -Thursday Island is one out of a set of hilly islands forming outliers -off the end of Cape York. From a balloon they ought to look like the -commencement of a series of stepping stones, reaching from Australia -towards New Guinea. If the series were ever complete, the greater -part of it has been washed away, and all that remains is the southern -end of the line. As we steamed in between these islands, we passed at -the distance of about one hundred yards, a steamer coming out. The -waving of handkerchiefs was immense. A lady passenger not only waved -her handkerchief, but she fairly jumped with excitement, and beckoned -to us as if she wanted us all to jump overboard, and swim after her. -It was clear she recognised somebody, but, who that somebody was we -never discovered. For the next week we used to address our skipper as -‘the sly dawg who flirted with the lady on the _Greyhound_.’ It has -often astonished me how bold ladies become, and gentlemen also, when -there is some sort of a barrier between them. When a train is leaving -a platform, respectable ladies can sometimes hardly repress a smile at -respectable gentlemen, but, while the train is standing at the station, -both the ladies and the gentlemen are as solemn as petrifactions. - -The handful of people at Thursday Island had, like the inhabitants of -all the other ports on the Australian coast, made preparations against -sudden invasion. Practice was going on at a rifle butt, the lights -which guide the ships had been extinguished for many nights, and the -hulks holding coals and other stores by withdrawing certain plugs could -at a moment’s notice be scuttled. One old lady fearing that on the -approach of the Russians, she might have to take refuge in the bush, -kept her pockets filled with fishing lines and hooks. At least she -would have the means of supplying the camp with fish. - -On my second visit to Thursday Island, which was in company with -Captain Green, a skipper who is as lively, energetic, and entertaining -as any skipper I ever travelled with, I visited a number of the -neighbouring islands where we climbed trees to obtain enormous bean -pods, gathered orchids, and visited shelling stations. - -The bays and islets of Thursday Island and its neighbourhood certainly -form pictures above the average of Australian scenery. Near the beach -are groves of mangrove, while miles up there are rocky cliffs and -patches of withered herbage. It is said that nothing of any value can -be induced to grow on Thursday Island, while on the volcanic islands, -twenty miles or so to the northward, yams and other vegetables thrive -magnificently. One great difficulty which has to be contended with is -the want of water, the supply necessary for household purposes being -chiefly dependent on what is caught from the roofs. As the quantity -of rain which falls is but little more than that which falls in the -great Sahara, the price of washing may be imagined. After three days in -Thursday Island you feel that you have lived long enough to start upon -your autobiography. After a week you feel that you haven’t the energy -for such an undertaking, and you leave the task for posterity. - -From sidewalks which are over the tops of naturally formed sand dunes, -it may be inferred that there is no Department of Public Works in -Thursday Island. There is a nice sandy walk in any direction you like -to take. Now and then you may be stopped by a small mountain of old -bottles and meat tins. - -The persons who live here are of various nationalities. I saw British, -Blacks, Cingalese, Japanese, and Kanakas. There were also a few -residents from Damascus, and a Polish emigrant from Siberia. The chief -occupation is diving for pearl shells. This is done from small boats -with diving dresses. The divers hold a monopoly of their business. They -get from £3 to £3 10s. for 100 shells, and it takes 8 to 900 shells to -make a ton, which is worth from £130 to £150. White men provide the -capital for this business, but it is the dark-skinned people who do the -actual diving. If a white man insists on diving, the probability is -that an accident occurs. The poor fellow’s signals were not understood, -and he dies for want of air. The divers take as their perquisite all -the pearls they find, which they trade off to jewellers or at grog -shops. The pearls ought properly to go to the owners of the boats. At -the end of a year a diver, after having received all his food which -he insists shall be of the best description, and accompanied with the -necessary sauces, finds that he has from £300 to £500. Then comes the -‘knocking down’ and a general debauch, at which time those persons not -desirous of being converted into lead mines or sieves, retire to their -dwelling. - -Now there is a small church at Thursday Island, and the manners of the -cosmopolitans it is hoped may be softened. How they will get on at -their christenings without water, is a problem yet to be solved. - -Thursday Island is a young place, but still it has its stories. The -stories chiefly relate to enormous pearls and the adventures of divers. -I was particularly struck with one story I heard, partly because I had -reason to believe it to be true, and partly because the scenes referred -to were indicated by the narrator as the story went on. It was called: - - -Ah Foo, the Gardener of Thursday Island. - -Pearls and pearl shells are now getting scarce at and about Thursday -Island, began the narrator. In early days pearls were common enough -to be had for the asking. There are some of my mates here that have -had pearls given to them by the handful. They would get a few set in -rings for their sweethearts, the balance they would pass on to their -friends. The first who discovered this El Dorado was an Israelite from -Vienna. He came and bought up all he could, and then he went, and we -have never heard of him since. After the first Oriental there came a -second Oriental. This was a Chinaman. He called himself Ah Foo, and -told us that his home was in Shantung or Shanshi. I forget which. In -big colonial towns Chinamen are usually washermen. In the suburbs, -and in the country, they are gardeners. About half Australia depends -upon Chinamen for their vegetable diet. As Chinamen supply it, the -profession of a gardener has come to be regarded as an occupation by no -means comparable with true manhood. - -You point to the only fertile spot in a barren burnt up township, and -before you can ask what it is, you are told that it is one of those -gardens made by Chinamen. They are always making gardens. With the -manure they use they will poison some of us yet. Would you believe it, -they only use night soil. They are such a dirty lot. - -This is all the thanks a Chinaman gets for making a pleasant little -green oasis and feeding the whites on cabbages and peas. To be a -gardener is looked upon as a Chinaman’s profession. In fact pottering -about with a watering pot, and hawking vegetables, is the greatest -height to which a Chinaman’s soul is supposed to rise. - -Ah Foo, when he came to Thursday Island, started a garden. How things -were to be induced to grow, nobody could conceive. That was the -Chinaman’s business. If there is a second Aden in the world, it must be -remembered that it is well represented by Thursday Island. It seldom -rains at Thursday Island, but yet Ah Foo kept digging away at his -ground, expecting that some day or other it might produce a crop, and -the harvest he would get, for cabbages were worth five shillings each, -would well repay him for his labours. But weeks passed, and no rain -came, and the Chinaman for a month or so paused in his labours. From -time to time during this period of melancholy, he would descend from -his hut up the gully, and take a seat upon a bench within the little -Public. - -‘Well, John, and how’s the garden?’ the landlord would ask. - -‘Me loose plenty money. No catchee lain, water melons and cabbages no -makee glow,’ replied John;--and he looked sad enough for the first -mourner at a funeral. Several of the residents on Thursday Island, who -had travelled, knew that Chinamen succeeded in growing vegetables in -places where even a Mormon would fail. - -‘Just let John alone, we’ll have our cabbages yet. Why Chinamen can -raise peas out of a bed of salt in a baker’s oven.’ So John was -encouraged by a smile and toleration. Many of the older hands on the -island hadn’t tasted fresh vegetable for three years, and they regarded -John’s efforts with great interest. Now and then a resident who had -taken an evening stroll past Ah Foo’s patch, would, whilst taking his -tot of square face, casually refer to what he had observed. ‘That -garden up there ain’t doing much,’ one would remark. ‘Exactly as I was -saying to Smith, here,’ was the reply. ‘Plenty of stones and dirt; I -reckon he’s waiting for the rain.’ By-and-bye John’s garden became a -joke--in fact a sort of bye word for a bad spec. Still John pegged -along. Now and then he could be seen toiling up the hill with two -baskets filled with sea weed suspended at the end of a stick. This was -manure for the garden. - -Six months passed and still there had not been a sprinkle, and John -had never produced a single vegetable. Thursday Island was as brown as -a baked apple. ‘Curious folks these Chinee,’ said the old resident, -‘always industrious. Why if we had their perseverance we’d been -millionaires by this time.’ - -People next began to speculate as to what would be the price of John’s -cabbages when they did grow. - -‘I wonder how he lives? Why it’s half a year since Ah Foo came, and -he hasn’t sold a copper’s worth of stuff as yet. I suppose the other -Chinamen help him along.’ We heard that they are terribly clannish in -their country. In the midst of all the speculations as to the source -of Ah Foo’s income, there was a clap of thunder, and the rain fell in -buckets’ full. Everybody looked up towards the Chinaman’s cabin as if -they expected to see cabbages rising like the magic mango. - -A week or so after this down came Ah Foo from his patch boiling over -with tribulation. He said, the birds had taken his seeds, and, while -all Thursday Island was putting in a coat of green, Ah Foo’s patch -remained as brown as a saddle. ‘No makee garden up that side any more, -more better look see nother place. My flend talkee that island overside -can catchee number one land. I make look see.’ For two months after Ah -Foo was heard of cruising round about the islands. And as there were -a good lot of shelters knocking about it was surmised that John got -his tucker free. At last he returned still looking fat and healthy -let it be remarked, with but an expression more woebegone than ever. -More better my go away. Spose flend pay my money I go China side. No -catchee chancee this side. The rumour that Ah Foo was busted, quickly -spread, and a good deal of sympathy prevailed. Hadn’t he tried to -benefit them, and, in the endeavour, been ruined. The argument appealed -to the feelings of Ah Foo’s sensitive sympathizers, and as most of -the residents on Thursday Island are generous and tender hearted, a -subscription was raised to send Ah Foo back to his fatherland. And he -left us. - -Two months afterwards what do you think we discovered. Why we -discovered that Ah Foo had never had a garden at all, and he never -intended to have one. All the time he was here he was buying up pearls -from the black divers which ought to have come to us. _If Ah Foo took a -penny out of Thursday Island he took at least £30,000, and we raised a -subscription to get him carried off._ - - * * * * * - -When I turned out next morning, I found that we were steaming along -past a place called Somerset. So far as I could see Somerset consists -of one house. Many years ago it was intended that Somerset should be -the capital of this part of the world. Experience, however, showed that -a better location might be had on Thursday Island, and thus Somerset -was deserted, and Thursday Island adopted. The solitary house which -now remains at Somerset was originally the habitation of the Resident. -How deceptive atlases often are! The owner of Somerset ought to pay -Keith Johnston pretty handsomely for making the world believe that -his bungalow is of equal importance with New York or London. What the -Russians pay for having the Urals represented as a great big black -caterpillar equal to, if not bigger, than the smudge which represents -the Alps, I can’t say, but they ought to pay at least as much as the -owner of Somerset. I heard that Somerset was a good place to stay at, -and get sport amongst the blacks. Usually you can rely on getting two -or three brace per day. The great thing to attend to is to see that -they don’t get you. After a careful inquiry as to the population of -Somerset, I could only hear of one white man. His isolation has made -him famous, and the name of Jardine is known throughout Australia. As -we went south, the coast got lower and lower, until it finished as a -country of white sand hills. The Queensland Government regard these -hills as a future source of revenue. It is here, when trade becomes -more localized, that the glass works of the universe are to be erected. - -Beyond the sand hills we came to some rocky capes. One of them called -Cape Melville was made of boulders, each of which was from the size of -a college to a cathedral. It is one of the best bits in the world of -rockery work. - -All the way down this coast we had smooth water, in fact I believe that -everybody has smooth water. The reason for this is, that between us and -the open ocean, there is a range of coral reefs running parallel with -the land, so that we were sailing down what was equivalent to a huge -canal. The length of this canal is about 1,200 miles, and its width -from 10 to about 60 miles. If you get into one end of the canal there -is but little chance of getting out of it, unless by sailing straight -ahead or by turning back. There are certainly one or two openings -leading to the ocean, but, those who try to find them, usually find -themselves landed in a maze of channels formed by the parallel lines of -reef, which together build up the one great reef, which is marked on -maps as the Barrier Reef. An old gentleman on board, whom we picked -up at Port Darwin, gave us a thrilling account of his adventures in -the barque _Mary Ann_, which was wrecked on the outside of the great -reef in 1864. After the vessel had become a total wreck, he and his -companions were fifty-five days in a boat, sailing from reef to reef. -At first they subsisted on the few provisions saved from the wreck. -These being exhausted, death from starvation seemed to look them in -the face. From time to time they obtained a little moisture by licking -the dew which during the night was precipitated on their sails. Having -eaten their last boot, they felt their end was close at hand, and each -one, hoping that their remains would be discovered, scratched a tender -farewell to his nearest relatives on his pannikin. They were then -encamped upon a rocky reef. - -‘Before lying down to die,’ said the narrator, ‘as a last hope I -dragged myself to the top of the rocky peak at the foot of which my -companions were lying. The sight I saw was one never to be forgotten. -We were saved--saved! and I beckoned to my companions to join me. It -wasn’t a ship, gentlemen; it was a turtle.’ He called them ‘tuttles.’ -‘Tuttles are plentiful in those seas, but, like blockheads as we were, -we had never thought of looking for them. Up came my companions, and -there we lay flat on our stomachs peering over a rock, watching the -tuttle as it crawled along the beach. How our eyes followed the animal! -It was no good trying rushing straight at him, for the darned beast -would have rolled into the water. As for surrounding him, there was no -chance unless the tuttle went asleep. It was too flat for manœuvres -of that description. To make an attempt, and then to lose him, meant -starvation. So we had a discussion, everybody whispering his ideas to -his neighbours. If anybody only knew how fast a tuttle could run, we -might let him wander far enough back until we could outrace him before -he reached the sea. Sam, the cook, said that he had been told that some -tuttles had a very good record. In the West Indies they used to race -them for bottles of rum. The general opinion, however, was that we had -better not try the racing dodge; the tuttle might win. So we all took -in another reef of our belts, determined to hold on for half an hour -more. By this time, gentlemen, starvation had made us as elegant about -the waists as Italian greyhounds. When thus speculating as to the best -course to be pursued, Ah Sing, who was cabin-boy aboard, looks up and -says, “That tuttle makee new pigen.” We all looked, and we saw that the -black-looking rock which had been progressing slowly across the white -sand had come to a halt. Presently we saw it going in circles, for all -the world like a dog going to sit down. Then it snuffed the sand, and -began to scratch with its black legs, throwing up a shower of dirt in -all directions. At times the showers of dirt were so thick that the -motive power was invisible. “Tuttle’s gone mad,” said one. “By and by -he makee hole all same as rabbit,” said Ah Sing. Sam suggested that he -was going to lay eggs. Sam, I forgot to say, was an Irishman, and Sam -was right. For a moment we forgot our hunger, and just watched. When -he had made a hole about as big as a good-sized fish-pond, the turtle -squatted down, gave a duck of his head, and laid an egg. Presently he -gave another duck, and laid a second egg. Then a third, a fourth, and -so on, until in about twenty-five minutes she had laid seventy-two -great white eggs. This finished, she came out of the hole, or what -was left of it (for it was nearly full of eggs), scratched some sand -over her production, and, exhausted, fell on her back and dozed. We -caught the turtle, and also got the seventy-two eggs. It was this as -saved our lives.’ After this he told us how they reached the mainland, -where they had a narrow escape of falling into the hands of cannibals. -Finally they were rescued by a whaler. The story was filled with the -most circumstantial detail, and the telling of it took fully an hour. -When it was ended, the old gentleman, who looked like a colonel who had -seen service in the Indian Mutiny, remarked that he would go on deck -and have a smoke. ‘_Well_,’ said the skipper, when he had gone, ‘_I -was first mate of the “Mary Ann” from ’62 to ’64, and we never seed -no coral reefs. Folks at Port Darwin cultivates their imagination, I -suppose, I’d recommend ’im to be a poet._’ - -After three days’ steaming and three nights’ lying at anchor--for -our skipper was a cautious old man, and preferred camping at sundown -to waking up hard and fast on a coral reef--we reached Cooktown. We -dropped our kedge about six miles off the shore, and there we waited -lollopping about on a swell until we had been boarded by the local -doctor, who came to see if we had imported any disease. All that we -could see was Mount Cook, named after the famous captain, and the beach -on to which he had run his ship, the _Endeavour_, after jumping her -over several coral ranges when approaching the Australian coast. Mount -Cook is about 1,000 feet high. The beach is flat, and on the edge of -the water. After hearing about the famous navigator, we began to think -that after all there might be some historical associations connected -with Australia. Possibly behind Mount Cook there might be the relics -of a baronial hall, a drawbridge, a Roman aqueduct, a moat, or even an -ancient suit of armour. - -The medical inspection, so far as I could see, consisted in a lot -of frowsy men--who seemed, from their general unkempt appearance, -to require more inspection than anyone on board our boat--going -into the captain’s cabin. I suppose they went to look at the ship’s -papers. Anyhow, when they came out they were wiping their mouths. I -subsequently learnt that these people whom I have called ‘frowsy’ -were really very good fellows; and if we met them on shore shortly -afterwards, we might be wiping our own mouths. I regret not having -met them. After this, one by one we descended by a ladder of ropes -into a boat I’ll call a cutter. I don’t know much about ships, and it -may have been a brig. One thing I remember was that it had a thing -called a centre-board. Peter said that this was a substitute for the -keel, which had been left ashore by accident. No sooner was this -centre-board lowered and the sail hoisted, than the boat turned over -on her side, and off she set. I thought she was going to upset. Never -shall I forget that journey. Before us were waves ranged in tiers like -the Sierras of North America. Now and then a larger range, not unlike -the Rocky Mountains, would rise. All of these ranges were in motion, -and, like regiments of cavalry, came bearing down upon us. Whenever a -particularly big range of mountains approached, the man at the helm -smiled. We simply looked from the bottom of the valley, up the watery -slope at the fleecy heights looking down into our boat, with horror. -Then there was a rise, a crash, a deluge of water, and we sank, wet -through, down into the next valley. I never crossed so many ranges of -mountains in two hours before. All the time we were holding on like a -parcel of cats weathering a gale on a church spire. ‘It’s all right,’ -said the man at the helm; ‘we’ll beat the _Fanny_ yet.’ The _Fanny_ -was another small brig. ‘Just haul that jib-sheet in a bit, Jim, and -I’ll keep her to it. Sorry I didn’t bring some oilskins, gentlemen. -A walk ashore, and you’ll be dry in ten minutes.’ Then came another -drencher. To continually look at a series of colossal waves coming -along tier after tier, every one threatening to overwhelm you, was -perfectly appalling. It’s all very well for sailors to imitate the -penguin, but landsmen don’t like it. Just before we landed, the ruffian -at the tiller said, ‘Fares, please, gentlemen--six shillings.’ Six -shillings for having jeopardized your life and shortened your existence -by nervous excitement! There was no arguing the point. I always felt -helpless when the watchmaker, after looking through a magnifier at your -watch, said, ‘Wants cleaning; afraid the mainspring is broken; the -chain is off the barrel; two pivot-holes want renewing,’ etc., etc. -I have also felt helpless when the doctor, after feeling your pulse, -and choking you with a spoon whilst examining your tongue, remarks -that ‘Your liver’s a little out of order; am afraid there is a little -tuberculosis and spasmodic irritation of the diaphragm. Dear me! -cerebro-spinal meningitis. I’ll send you up some medicine to-morrow. -Next week you had better go to the south of France. In the meanwhile -be careful and only take gruel and a little beef-tea.’ - -I was, however, never so helpless as I was with the charms of Cooktown. - -What a mess we were in when we did land! I looked at the Major, the -Major looked at Peter, and Peter looked at Dodd. Then we mopped -ourselves with our pocket-handkerchiefs. Peter suggested borrowing a -clothes-line and paying a housemaid to hang us out to dry for an hour. -When I looked at the ladies we met in Cooktown during the afternoon, I -almost wept at the thought of the miserable wet blotting-papery figure -they must have cut when they first came ashore. Since that event, -however, their feathers had been dried, and some of them looked quite -stylish. - -The principal part of Cooktown consists of one long straight street, -about a mile in length, lined with a lot of wooden houses and shanties -of all sizes and shapes. Usually they are one story high. Here you find -confectioners, bootmakers, stationers, general stores, photographers, -a whole lot of public-houses, or, as Australians prefer to call them, -hotels, and six or seven chapels and schools. The greater number of the -latter were a short distance out of the main street, upon some rising -ground to the left. The juxtaposition of these two civilizers is very -marked in this part of the world. We visited one of the hotels, and -endeavoured to get some information about the place from one of the -barmaids, who told us she came from London. The Major was very desirous -of obtaining information about the aboriginals. He had heard of a -curious contrivance called a boomerang. They used it to catch fish, -and he was anxious to obtain one. - -On the wall we read a notice that a certain John Smith, being in the -habit of making himself objectionable to his neighbours by taking too -much stimulant, it was hereby officially notified that it was forbidden -to supply the said John Smith with any more liquor. - - (Signed) - A. B. } - C. D. } Magistrates. - -A similar notice was to be seen, we were told, in every hotel. John -Smith had moved to the next town. - -While here, a funeral passed. Nearly all the people were on horseback, -and, as an indication of respect to the deceased, wore a white band on -their hats. Some had it on their arm. - -From Cooktown there is a railway now in progress, which is intended -to put the Palmer Diggings in communication with the coast. In many -respects it appeared to be similar to an American line. It is to the -mines and a few squatters that Cooktown owes its existence. - -It took two days’ steaming, and camping amongst the coral reefs, to -reach Townsville. The coast was hilly, and the weather rough. The -morning tub began to feel cool once more. The place we anchored at -was called ‘Magnetic Island,’ and ‘Townsville is out there,’ said the -skipper, pointing at the horizon. After about two hours’ waiting, a -custom-house officer came off to give us permission to go ashore, and -to examine the Chinamen whom we had brought. In Queensland they charge -£30 per head on every Chinaman who lands. In all the other colonies, -excepting South Australia, where John is admitted without duty, the tax -is, I believe, £10 per head. The labouring man of Australia does not -believe in cheap labour, and as he returns the members of the august -Assemblies that rule the Colonies, he takes good care to see that -restrictions are put upon its introduction. He doesn’t mind buying his -provisions from a Chinaman’s store; in fact, in many places he buys -all his provisions from the Chinaman. This is because they are cheaper -than those bought from his own countrymen. He doesn’t recognise that -when a Chinaman builds a railway in the country, he leaves behind him a -cheap article. Had European labour built it, the first cost would have -been more, and to pay this, railway fares, taxation, or something must -increase, which would directly or indirectly fall on his shoulders. The -only thing he sees is the Chinaman as a supplanter, taking labour which -ought to have been his, but at a higher price. Then the Chinaman leaves -the country, taking nearly all his earnings with him. Where a Chinaman -fossicks about for gold or tin, and only leaves behind him heaps of -_débris_, the colonist may rightly object; but when the Chinaman leaves -behind him roads and important public works, when he feeds and clothes -the colonist, and does all this at a rate cheaper than the colonist can -do it himself, it is difficult to understand where the objection to -John arises. - -Many people that I met had prejudices against Chinamen without reason. -The steamers coming from China have Chinese stewards and a Chinese -crew. Everyone who has travelled on the best of these boats, and also -in the best of the Australian coasters, knows that there is greater -cleanliness and comforts to be obtained in the boats from China. On -the Australian boats, on account of the number of passengers, the -difficulties in the way of cleanliness are undoubtedly the greater. -This, however, does not apply to hotels. That Eastern hotels with -Chinese waiters are infinitely more comfortable than Colonial hotels, -there can be but little doubt. For one who has ever been waited upon by -Chinese dressed in spotless white and gliding about without noise, to -be transported to the clatter of plates, the squeaking and stamping of -boots, and general flurry of a large colonial hotel, the contrast is -very marked. One lady I met who had travelled in a China boat, remarked -that she wouldn’t travel in those boats any more. Too many ‘Chinkies’ -(her name for Chinamen) on board. They smelt. - -‘How do Chinamen behave in a gale?’ said a gentleman who was -present, addressing the captain of a Chinese steamer. ‘Are they ever -intoxicated?’ ‘Well,’ replied the captain, ‘I have sailed with Chinamen -for many years, and I have found them good men in bad weather; and what -is more, they are never drunk. British sailors are usually intoxicated -when they come on board, and for twenty-four hours after leaving it -often happens that there is hardly a man who could row a boat. For a -passenger-boat to go to sea with a crew like this is almost criminal. -As compared with the ordinary merchant sailor, the Chinamen on board my -ship are clean.’ This is what the captain said. - -So far as I could learn, the working man, ‘the horny-handed son of -toil,’ is boss of Australia. He usually belongs to a Union. Union men -are subject to heavy penalties should they ever be found working with -a man who does not belong to a Union. They hold shipping companies in -check, and they regulate the working of coal-mines. - -None of the Australian shipping companies are allowed to carry any but -white men as portions of their crew. If boats from other countries run -upon their coasts, they are not allowed to carry passengers to ports -between Cape York and St. George’s Sound. If they insist on carrying -passengers, the difficulties which are thrown in their way become so -great that hitherto the attempts to fight against them have failed. - -To give an idea of what some of the rulers of the Colonies are like, I -repeat as well as I am able, two short conversations I overheard. - - -First Conversation. - -‘Going to work to-day, Bill?’ said a strong-looking ruffian to -another who was leaning against a shed smoking. ‘Well, don’t know,’ -was the reply. Then after a pause and a spit, ‘Maybe I’ll turn to -at two o’clock.’ Then he shifted one of his feet as it was getting -uncomfortable, and remarked, ‘Was working all day yesterday. Didn’t -knock off until six o’clock.’ - - -Second Conversation. - -‘Just cast off that rope,’ said a mate of a vessel that was leaving -a wharf to a group of three untidy, dirty-looking men smoking on the -wharf. ‘You be----, cast it off yourself; we ain’t paid to work for -you.’ They continued smoking, and a man had to go from the ship to cast -the rope off. - -While I was in Australia, a large vessel of some 4,000 tons came -from Europe bringing heavy machinery. To discharge the machinery -without running any risk of accident, one of the crew was employed as -a winchman. This was too much for the other labourers, who insisted -that one of their number should be employed as a winchman, whether the -machinery were broken or not. The captain was defeated, and had to take -the responsibility of accidents occurring through mismanagement. - -At present the working man is boss, and until the Australian population -has increased he will remain as boss, and exercise a rude tyranny over -all who have to deal with him. - -Many of the members he returns to represent him are not unlike -himself, and I have heard respectable people affirm that the majority -of the more educated Colonials would refuse a seat in the Houses of -Parliament, even if it were offered to them without contention. I -am not quite certain that I believed them, and fancy that they only -wished me to understand that certain representatives of the working man -occasionally indulged in unparliamentary language. - -Although I have said much that is anything but flattering about the -ruler of Australia, if I were in his shoes I expect that I should -behave like him. - -To see a batch of Chinamen come into a district and take up contracts, -which I was unable to accept, would be exceedingly annoying if I and -my family were driven from the district in consequence of such an -invasion. I am certain that I should cast aside all views respecting -the general welfare of the colony, and be violent in what I should -call self-defence. Australia is for those who made it, and to be -supplanted by an alien would make me very angry. I should also be angry -if I found that I was bound to curtail my exertions by the rules of -a Union to which, if I did not belong, I might not be able to earn -a living. Unions may be used by the lazy to defend them against the -industrious. - -Here I have chiefly spoken about the lazy, loafing working man of the -Colonies; farther on I shall refer to the sober, industrious labourer. - -The getting ashore at Townsville was attended with as much discomfort -as the getting ashore at Cooktown. The difference between the two was, -that here I got nearly roasted; while at Cooktown I was nearly drowned. -I started in a thing shaped like half a walnut-shell. It had no seats -and was black with coal. In the middle of it there was a boiler fuming -and steaming with 55 lb. of pressure. In front of this there were two -little cylinders like a couple of jam-pots. This contrivance was called -a steam-launch. It took us nearly three hours to reach the shore. All -the time there was a blazing sun which cooked our heads, a radiation -from the boiler which cooked our middles, and a smell of oil and bilge -which upset our stomachs. The last part of the trip was up a narrow -river. On landing, the first thing which struck me was a hansom. I -promptly engaged it, and drove to an hotel. The next thing which -struck me was a confectioner’s shop filled with penny buns. I hadn’t -seen penny buns for some years, so I went in and bought one. To my -astonishment they cost a penny each. I thought that in this part of the -world a penny bun would at least have cost sixpence. It was just like -the penny buns you get in Europe--brown in colour, shiny and sticky on -the outside, sweet, soft, very palatable, and I may add, very filling. -I also purchased half a pound of sweets. On my return to the hotel -I generously offered a young lady who had in exchange for sixpence -assisted one in washing down the bun, to take some sweets: ‘Oh, -sweets,’ said she, ‘you’re a new chum, I suppose.’ ‘No,’ said I, ‘only -the preface to a new chum, madame. When I have been in the Colonies -forty-eight hours I may aspire to the title.’ ‘I thought that you had -not been long amongst the kangaroos,’ was the reply; ‘we call them -“lollies” here.’ After that I was often struck with seeing or hearing -that euphonious word. Sometimes I saw it in large letters over a shop, -‘Lollies for sale,’ or ‘Lolly shop.’ Then at a railway station I have -heard an old man with white hair, who was wandering along with a basket -on his arms, droning out, ‘Nuts, oranges, apples, and nice lollies.’ - -At Townsville I was nearly stranded for want of money. I had with me a -letter of introduction and circular notes. I had tried to obtain money -in Cooktown, but unfortunately walked into the bank at two minutes past -three. ‘Very sorry, sir,’ said a nicely dressed young man, ‘but it -is after three.’ ‘But I leave to-night.’ ‘Very sorry, sir,’ said the -nice young man. Although I did not see anyone in the bank, I concluded -that the young men had been very busy and required rest. It is a great -mistake to overtax one’s system, and I was delighted to find a set of -young men who respect their constitutions. In Townsville the story was -quite different. The trouble with the young men at Townsville was, -that they did not care about the identification of a stranger by his -signature. After trying four banks, I crossed the street to a furniture -shop, and had a look at myself in a large mirror. My face seemed pretty -much as usual, excepting perhaps a trifle anxious as to the prospect of -having to sleep in the streets that night. Anyhow, there was nothing -suspicious, so I went back to the Number One Bank to have another try. -‘We have not been advised,’ said they. ‘Great heavens,’ said I, ‘we -haven’t stamps enough in the country I come from to write letters of -advice to all the places printed on this letter. They would cost more -than the value of the draft.’ This seemed to strike him, and after -discussing the matter in another room, he said, ‘Well, if you will -bring some one here to identify you, we will let you have some money.’ - -In desperation I went to the captain of the steam-launch, who had -brought me ashore, who very kindly came to the bank, and, by signing -certain documents, made himself responsible. Not only did the young -men of Townsville make one feel both mean and mad, but they charged me -a heavy commission. Subsequently in my travels my notes were cashed -without questions, and without commissions. When the young men of the -smaller colonial banks know more about circular notes and banking -operations, they also will, perhaps, cash circular notes without -commissions and delays. It is hard on their employers that they should -send money from their doors. My mind being relieved by having twenty -sovereigns in my pocket, I strolled about the town. The street--for -there is only one main street in Townsville--contains several good -shops. Outside the town I heard that there were some public gardens, -but I had not time to reach them. In the distance, in all directions, -excepting towards the sea, there are some tolerably high hills, which -in one direction reach quite up to and overlook the town. - -I stayed at the Imperial Hotel, a tolerably good sort of place, but -with little box-like bedrooms. The average Australian has no idea of -the comforts of what a European would call an ordinary hotel. Give him -beef, mutton, a solid pudding, and a room like a good-sized packing -case to sleep in, and he is contented,--anyhow he puts up with it. - -That evening, while strolling in the streets, I was attracted by the -sound of revelry in an hotel. As the windows leading on to a veranda -were open, I walked in, took a seat, and acquiesced in the wishes of a -gentleman who commanded me to help myself. I make it a point never to -differ with gentlemen who are imperative on such points. If he had told -me to drink it out of a tin mug, and to like it, I do not think that -I should have opposed his wishes. At the piano there was a universal -genius who could play anything and everything that was called for. A -short conversation with my neighbour revealed the fact that we had both -been educated at the same school. This led to other acquaintances, -and by 12 p.m. I knew fifty (I here speak poetically) people who were -willing to identify me. After hearing a lot of music, many songs, -violent discussions as to how a Russian invasion was to be met, and -finally joining hands to sing ‘Auld Lang Syne,’ I got to bed about 2 -a.m. - -That morning I started at 8 a.m. by train to visit the mining district -and town of Charters Towers. The distance is between 80 and 90 miles. -The first thing I noticed was the dust. In fact the dust insisted -on being noticed. It went into your eyes, your ears, your nostrils, -your mouth, your pockets and your boots, as if you were to be buried. -Some of the trees in the gardens near the railway station were so -earthy, that they looked as if they had been planted root upwards. -Outside the town the country had an open park-like appearance. The -trees were the same old type which I saw at Port Darwin--scraggy gum -trees with white stems. There were also a few screw palms. Here and -there, there were plains covered with tombstone-like ant-hills. Along -the line there were posts marking every quarter mile. By observing -these I found that we were running a mile in from seventy to eighty -seconds. All the gradients were also marked. It did not take long -before I found that I was on a railway line, the engineer for which -had some originality. Part of the way I rode in a _coupé_ at the end -of the train and I could see what I left behind me. Sometimes I was -looking down a slope and sometimes up one. ‘Grand line this,’ said a -fellow-passenger. ‘Compensating grades they call them. Wait a bit, and -you’ll see some fun presently.’ It wasn’t very long that I waited. The -fun began at Reid’s River, where there was a slope of 1 in 25, down -to a bridge which was purposely made low in the centre, so that the -train could swoop down upon it and then by its impetus climb up the -other side. This sort of arrangement saved viaducts. There is another -good rush made at the Buredkin River. Here the bridge is said to be -too flat, and the train comes down upon it very like a thunderbolt. It -makes passengers quite nervous. When we commenced to lower ourselves -gently down the first of these slopes, which I could easily see by -craning my neck out of the window, I felt troubled. Very quietly the -speed became greater, and I felt my heart palpitating. Then the train -seemed to control the engine, and away we went with a lighting-like -rush down towards the bridge. At this point I drew in my head, and -prayed that the bridge was strong. It was just a rattle and a ‘whish’ -and we were climbing the other side. We reached the top, panting and -puffing like a broken-winded horse. When the floods are on, the train -apparently charges down into the river,--the waters of which may have -run above the metals. There was a lot of this, so-called fun, on the -road. At the end of it, I felt that my days had been shortened by -nervous excitement. The great thing was to know how I was to get back. -I have travelled in America over high trestle work, when the engine has -crossed with the delicacy of a cat,--feeling every timber as it went -along,--not unlike Blondin on a tight rope. In Queensland you felt like -a shooting star passing through space. I think I prefer listening to -the squeaking of a rickety framework in America to the railway fun in -Queensland. At one place we were dragged by two engines, up a series of -steep inclines, called the ranges. At the time the line was being made -an old lady took a passage down the ranges in a trolly in company with -one of the engineers. The trolly got under weigh and took possession of -its two passengers, who had to lie down flat and hold on. ‘The trees,’ -referring to the bush on either hand, said the old lady when relating -her adventures, ‘looked like one tree. Never had such a journey in -my life. Why, it didn’t stop until we were four miles past my house. -Further off home than when I started. Never catch me on them trollies -any more.’ - -The man who called this kind of travelling ‘fun’ was an insurance -agent. After some conversation he found out where I lived, and how -many years I had been there. Then he wanted to insure my life. He -informed me that he often got ‘cases’ in the train. With him a ‘case’ -was the technical term for a man who is induced to pay a certain sum -of money to an Insurance Company. Another technicality with a similar -meaning was, I found, ‘a subject.’ ‘I live in an unhealthy climate,’ I -remarked. ‘Well, you say you have been there ten years, and taking you -as a sample I don’t mind insuring the whole of the inhabitants in that -part of the world.’ - -‘Look here, there is the doctor,’ and he pointed to a little old man -in the corner. The little old man said, ‘Yes; I’m the doctor, and -examine free.’ I felt I was being cornered. It was no good talking -about fevers, earthquakes, the difficulties of collecting his fees, -all that he wanted was the _first_ fee. As a last refuge I asked for a -prospectus, and told him I would consider the matter. - -My having volunteered to consider the matter enabled him, by pointing -to me as a semi-convert, to introduce the subject of insurance to the -remaining passengers in the carriage, all of whom he would insure at -cheaper rates than any other company. By-and-bye a priest got into -the carriage. Old Insurance immediately wished him good-morning, -and after introducing him to each individual in the train as if he -had known them and all of us for years, entered into conversation -on the advantages of life insurance. In Charters Towers we stayed -at the same hotel. He often took a seat next to mine. When he sat -down to lunch the conversation usually commenced by, ‘Well, have you -considered the matter? You’ll never get such a chance again. Just -got six new “subjects” this morning, and expect to get four or five -more this afternoon. The doctor has been as busy as a bee; haven’t -you, doctor?’ The poor little doctor gave a sickly little smile, and -assented. Every day that I met Insurance, I felt that I was breaking -down. Had I remained in Charters Towers another week I must either -have allowed myself to be insured, or else have died from worry. The -doctor has probably succumbed. I never saw a man better cut out to be -led round and do as he was bidden. If Old Insurance had said to his -companion--‘Now dance, doctor--jump, doctor--say yes, doctor--stand on -your head, doctor,’ I believe the poor little man would have done his -best to comply with the orders. My pity for the doctor was very great. - -It seems to be a common thing in Australia for insurance agents with -their doctors to be travelling in search of subjects. I subsequently -met one or two other sets of subject-hunters, but I never met with one -so determined either to kill or else insure you as my Charters Towers -acquaintance. The directors of his company ought to raise his pay. The -public ought to get him transported. - -At Ravenswood Junction there are some experimental works for extracting -gold from its ores by chlorinization. From this point we might have -branched off to see some silver mines where ore is being smelted in one -of La Monte’s water jacket furnaces. It was nearly one o’clock when we -reached our journey’s end. Here the country was open and undulating. -There was a little brown grass to be seen, but no trees--at least, -near the town. The only thing to break the view were groups of houses, -huts, piles of white _débris_ (mullock), and tall poppet-heads. The -roads were white and dusty. In places the dust was six inches to a foot -in thickness, and so soft that you sank in it like mud. When a cart -passed, the cloud it raised rendered it invisible. In the house we -found preparations for races in progress. There were many book-makers -on the spot, and a lot of jockeys. Sometimes they used bad language -and hit each other. Mining first commenced as alluvium work. This was -about ten years ago. Now the work is all quartz-crushing. Everybody -talks about mining, morning, noon, and night, ‘The Day Dawn is running -14 ounces,’ says one man. ‘Fine body of ore in number two Queens,’ -says another. ‘Seen the new heads at the Defiance, Jimmey?’ says a -third; and so it goes on until the uninitiated gets sick of mining. -When I was returning from Charters Towers I had to get in the train at -6 a.m. As it wasn’t light until about 7 a.m., I could only judge of -my fellow-companions by their conversation. In front of me there was -a most earnest discussion going on about particular claims. ‘One reef -would run four or five to the ton. After they got finished with their -new poppet-heads and got down a little deeper, things would be better, -etc.,’ etc. When daylight came, I found that all these technicalities -were being fired off by two small school-boys, respectively aged about -ten and twelve. The children at Charters Towers must be born with a -mania for quartz. - -The majority of people can only talk about their own speciality, and -they quite ignore the feelings of outsiders who are compelled to listen -to their conversation. In Newfoundland everybody talks about codfish, -excepting for a month or so in spring, when they talk about seals. The -worst old talkers I have ever met have been antiquated skippers. Once -when crossing the Atlantic, the smoking-room was monopolized by three -old shell-backs who discussed reefing topsails, the qualifications of -the barques _Sarah Jane_ and _Mary Ann_, and other nautical matters, so -continually, that in less than two days no other passenger could remain -with them. - -The gold at Charters Towers occurs in quartz veins or reefs. These, -instead of running through the slates in which it was once supposed was -the only proper place to expect gold, run through a kind of granite. Of -late years gold has been found in most unexpected quarters. Since being -in the Colonies I have seen it in calcite, and serpentine. The great -gold deposit of Mount Morgan is a mountain of siliceous iron-stone, -probably deposited by a geyser. At first it was thought that the -whole mountain was a solid mass of gold-bearing rock. Now, however, a -tunnel seems to have shown that it is only a skin or covering on the -outside of the hill where gold occurs. The ground originally belonged -to a young squatter named Donald Gordon. Donald suspected it might -contain minerals, and asked the opinion of a scientific professor. The -Professor said, ‘It is only iron-stone. Donald.’ Finally Donald sold -his mountain for £640. The people who bought it estimate its value at -£9,000,000. Poor Donald! - -After getting the blocks of quartz, in which, as a rule, you can’t -see a speck of the precious metal, up to the surface, they are broken -in pieces with sledgehammers. They would use rock-breakers to do the -work, but as rock-breakers, like Chinamen, do away with European -labour, I imagine that they must have been tabooed--anyhow, I did not -see a rock-breaker. The broken quartz is next thrown into the iron -mortars, where heavy iron stampers are at work. When the quartz is -sufficiently fine, it escapes like so much muddy water through screens -in the front of the mortars, to flow over the surfaces of a series -of copper plates covered with mercury. Here a quantity of the gold -sticks to the mercury and amalgamates with it. From time to time these -plates are scraped, and the amalgam thus obtained is subsequently -distilled. Much gold, however, runs over the plates, and it is a great -problem as to how it is to be caught. At some mines it is caught on -rough blankets, which are stretched over an inclined plane forming a -continuation of the copper plates. Still, there is a certain quantity -of gold running away mixed with the water and the sand. This material -is usually concentrated, that is, it is caused to pass over some -machine where the light sand is washed away, and the gold, mixed with -iron pyrites and other materials, remains behind. This pyrites material -is then roasted and amalgamated in specially contrived amalgamators. -Sometimes it is treated chemically. The more rapidly these operations -are carried on, and the greater the flood of water employed to wash -the sand along, the more the fine gold escapes. All the escaping -water deposits its sediment in pits called slime pits, the contents -of which constitute tailings. At all quartz-crushing establishments, -you see mountain-like heaps of these tailings. They look like hills -of fine white sand. Some of them are sufficiently valuable to be sent -to Germany, where the gold, which the Australian miner has allowed to -run to waste, is extracted at a profit. Every mill you visit you are -told is the best mill in the Colonies, with the best methods and the -best machinery. When I looked at the enormous stamps, one could not -but think that it was like using Nasmyth’s hammers to crack walnuts. -When you saw the general want of automatic apparatus to break and feed -materials, you felt that mine proprietors were kind to workmen--who, -by-the-bye, usually get about ten shillings a day. When you saw the -floods of water tearing over the tables, and through the various -machines, you felt that those who sent their ore to the mills were -easily contented. I suppose there are reasons for all this, but they -were not explained. Notwithstanding all the gold which is washed away, -things are brisk. One gentleman was pointing out to me, who, at the -time of my visit, was making £1,000 a week. There were a theatre and a -circus in the town, and along half a mile of the main street I counted -twenty-two public-houses. Altogether there are about two thousand or -three thousand people in Charters Towers. On Sunday night I think I saw -nearly all of them. They spent the evening in parading up and down the -street in a very quiet and orderly manner. - -At the hotel where I stayed, I had abundance to eat and drink. My -bedroom was only nine to ten feet square, and I had to share it with -another traveller. - -I returned to Townsville the same way as I went. As I did not put my -head out at the valleys and bridges, I did not incur the same feelings -of insecurity from which I had suffered when going up. At Ravenswood -Junction we had a scramble for breakfast, that is to say for a cup -of coffee and a slab of steaming meat. Australians are fearfully -carnivorous. Each of them eats, at least, an acre of beefsteak every -year. This helps to make them big and strong. When I was in Melbourne, -some prisoners had been making public a complaint that they did not -get meat three times a day. They excited considerable sympathy. Just -as I was about to pay for my feed, a rough-looking miner gave me a -push, saying, ‘Shove that in your pocket.’ At the same time he threw -down four shillings on the table to settle for two. I did not argue the -matter with the gentleman. - -At Townsville I found a launch waiting to carry me and sixty-one other -passengers off to the steamship _Warrego_. On board we found a number -more. It was an awful crush. The steamer was expensively fitted. If -they had spent the money in making her a few feet longer, instead -of spending it in fittings, we should have been more comfortable. -All the saloon and other rooms were lined with slabs of marble. It -was rather pretty, but too much like a bath-room. Here I heard very -much about mining, and a little about separation and Government -jobbery. At present Brisbane, at the extreme south of Queensland, is -the capital. Those who live in the north complain that they pay for -railways and other public works which they never see. There is too -much centralization in the south. What Northern Queensland requires is -separation and a capital at Townsville, then the money collected in the -north would be spent in the north. People at Charters Towers say that -Townsville is a fraud. It can never be made into a harbour, and their -railway ought to have terminated at Bowen, where there is a harbour. -The Townsville representatives have been too powerful, and they were -not going to lose the trade, which Charters Towers and other places -farther inland might bring them. Everybody who sends goods into the -interior, or brings them from the interior, can be beautifully squeezed -at Townsville. First, the Townsvillians collect dues for cartage from -the station to the end of the pier. They are too wise to let their -railway be carried to a place convenient for shipping. Next are the -dues for lighters out to the ships; and so it continues. - -The people at Townsville are clever, and Townsville is rapidly -improving. About midnight we stopped at Bowen, but as it was dark I -kept in my berth. The next stoppage was at Mackay, where we discharged -a lot of passengers, and took in a batch to fill their places. The -coast was rocky, with islands and clumps of trees. Speaking generally -of our passengers, they were a rough lot. Nine out of ten of them wore -soft felt-hats, the brims of which they turned down. Most of them -smoked, expectorated on the deck, and jerked the ends of wax matches -and tobacco ash in all directions. The captain said that this was the -result of competition. It enabled third-class passengers to take a -saloon passage. - -Australia is a land of wax matches. Everybody carries a box. There are -apparently certain points of etiquette to be observed in their use. -If you are lighting a pipe, and a gentleman asks for a light to his -cigarette, don’t give him the match which is burning, but dip your -finger in your pocket and let him strike a light of his own. It would -be more convenient to you and also to him to receive the light which is -burning, but that does not matter. When asked for a light, do not offer -your pipe or cigar, but offer a match. In South Australia I heard that -they were not considered safe, and only safety matches were allowed. My -experience is that they are equally dangerous--both may and do explode -on the slightest aggravation. An interesting series of stories might be -written on adventures with matches. - -Next morning, at about half-past five, we reached Capel Bay, where -the passengers for Rockhampton disembarked. All the places down this -coast appear to be inaccessible to large steamers. They are situated -up rivers, and the rivers have bars. From this point the coast got -flatter. During the afternoon there was a little excitement by one -of the passengers having a fit; on his recovery I gave him, at his -own request, a glass of water and a Cockle’s pill. That night, at -about one a.m., there was a cry of ‘Fire! fire!’ shrieked through the -saloon. We all turned out, perhaps one hundred in all, men, women, and -children--in night dresses. The officers and, finally, the captain -appeared on the scene, and we found that it was the sick man wandering -about in a state of mental aberration. The captain ordered two stewards -to watch him. Shortly afterwards he went up the companion and out on -the port side. The stewards followed up the companion and out on the -starboard side. They expected to meet their charge on the deck. He, -however, was never found. We suppose he jumped overboard. - -Early next morning we were at the mouth of the Brisbane River. On our -starboard bow we could see some remarkable-looking mountains called -the Glass Houses. One of them, which was called Mount Beerah, is 1,760 -feet high. It looks like a very sharp regularly formed pyramid. From -its shape, and from the fact that round about it, places have names -alluding to volcanic materials it is probably of volcanic origin. It -is certainly a very remarkable natural needle. The river is at the -entrance very broad, and the land on the banks very flat. Here and -there are swamps and fringes of mangrove. As we get higher up we see -patches of sugar-cane and a few bananas. The river is muddy and full -of shoals. On the banks, the shoals, and floating on the water, there -are hundreds, and possibly thousands, of beacons and buoys. They help -to make up the scenery. As the channels are ever shifting, these -indices for navigators are shifted or multiplied. When an invader -approaches, the ordinary plan will be to remove or alter the position -of the guiding marks. At Brisbane it would be well to let everything -remain in _statu quo_, and if the enemy did not get wrecked, it might -be counted as a miracle. At one point there are earthworks forming a -fort. Here the river is closed by a boom of timbers. A portion in the -centre is left open for the passage of vessels. All these military -preparations are due to the expectation of a war with Russia. Even -the smallest place in Queensland has done something to beat off the -expected cruiser. In Port Darwin the volunteers were busily engaged in -practising at targets. Similar amusements were going on at Thursday -Island and in Townsville. At some towns places had been looked for to -which bank treasure might be removed. - -Now, however, every town, from the snowy uplands of Southern New -Zealand to the sandy shores of tropical Queensland, has completed its -preparations. At many harbours it would be an unfortunate thing if a -belligerent found his way inside. He would most certainly never go -out. The war scare has done good. It has placed the Colonies on a war -footing. - -I found Brisbane a splendid place, in some respects it was not -unlike a miniature San Francisco. The streets are, however, much -wider in Brisbane. There are some very fine shops, hansoms, busses, -barrel-organs, and itinerant musicians with harps and violins. Of -course the banks are the notable buildings. Australia is a country of -banks. If ever you see an unusually large building, you may conclude it -is a bank. Russians have a weakness for big churches. An Australian’s -hobby is to build big banks. The Houses of Parliament and the Law -Courts were also striking buildings. In the afternoon I saw a lot of -grand carriages. Inside them were handsomely dressed ladies. On the box -or behind were cockaded footmen. Many of the girls were good-looking. -They were, however, chaperoned by their mammas, and you saw what the -sweet girls might look like in the sweet by-and-bye. It is a great -mistake for a good-looking girl to walk out with an ugly mother. A -young man gets frightened. If he didn’t get frightened, then he is not -a philosopher. The girls had better refuse such men. - -Many of the men wore tall hats. Tall hats are almost unknown in the -tropics. Taking Brisbane as the northern limit, they extend as far -south as Dunedin, that is to say, over nineteen degrees of latitude. -They have a similar geographical range in the northern hemisphere. -There are, therefore, two belts round the globe, each about 1,200 miles -in width, in which we may study chimney-pots. - -Judging from the brogue I heard in the streets and in the hotels, I -should fancy that English, Scotch, and Irish are mixed up in Brisbane -in about equal proportions. This may not agree with statistics. -Statistics consider people who were born in Ireland as Irishmen. In my -estimate I only reckon as Irishmen those who talk with a good brogue, -make bulls, and tell every girl they see that she is the prettiest -in the town. I spent my first evening with a very jovial Irishman. -One thing which he taught me was, that the whisky of the southern -hemisphere resembles, in all its properties, that which is made in -other parts of the world. - - * * * * * - -One morning I spent in visiting the Brisbane museum. It is a large -building, and is apparently omnivorous in the curiosities it receives. -There were lots of minerals to be seen, including a number of very -good specimens of opal. Upstairs there was a large collection of -oil-paintings illustrating Australian scenery. Downstairs I saw many -fossil bones, including those of the extinct gigantic kangaroo-like -animal called the diprotodon. The Major was anxious to get some -diprotodon shooting, but when we told him that the animal was 55 feet -from the tip of his tail to the tip of his snout, and 55 feet from the -tip of his snout to the tip of his tail, making in all 110 feet, that -his skin was impenetrable to the bullet of the European, etc., etc., -the Major was not so anxious. He saw we were joking, bit his lips, and -got quite cross. - -From the museum I was directed to the public gardens at the end of the -street--‘The gate right ahead of you,’ said my informant. I walked in, -entered between two rather fine gate-posts into a garden-like avenue. -‘Odd sort of botanical garden,’ I thought. ‘Trees ought to be labelled. -Don’t want to over-educate the people of Brisbane, I suppose. Might be -dangerous if they knew a lot of Latin names for trees.’ So I walked on -until I came to a big house with a carriage at the door. ‘Good place -for a curator,’ I thought. ‘Ought to have started life as a botanist, -and I might have had a house like that.’ While looking at the house, -and wondering whether a re-education would enable me to start in the -plant line, a policeman broke into my reveries by inquiring whether I -wanted to see the Governor? ‘No,’ said I; ‘I want to see the botanical -gardens.’ ‘You have taken the wrong entrance,’ he replied. ‘You will -find the entrance next to the one you came in by.’ So I had to retrace -my steps to the entrance next to the one I came in by. This was one -of those iron-gate sort of things, like a big squirrel-cage. It had a -cast-iron label on, to the effect that these gardens were the invention -of Sir George Bowen. After entering the squirrel-cage turnstile, -swing the gate and then pass on. Do not pause when once inside the -squirrel-cage, or another person may come, and, by swinging the gate -at the wrong moment, crack you like a nut between nut-crackers. Here I -found labels and Latin names, nursemaids, perambulators, grassy slopes, -and children to my heart’s content. Sir George Bowen’s invention is -very pretty, and well repays a visit. I forgot to say that at the -museum there are the apartments of the Royal Society of Queensland. -They began by calling themselves ‘Royal,’ in the same way that a -public-house may call itself the Royal Bull. Subsequently they prayed -the Government to petition the Queen for the use of the word ‘Royal.’ -This was naturally granted. They have a fine library, and are doing -much good work. - - - - -_ADVENTURES WITH A BOOMERANG._ - - -I had a boomerang given to me when in Brisbane. I have got it yet. -If the troubles it has caused me, and the troubles it has in store -for me, do not bring me to an early grave, I have the intention of -passing this specimen of aboriginal workmanship on to some fellow I -don’t like. By the same messenger I intend to send him the address of -a respectable undertaker. If you have a deadly hatred for a man--if -there is a man who has insulted you, called you a liar and a thief, -converted you and your family into paupers, blasted your hopes for -this world and the future--just ask him, when he goes to Australia, -to bring you a boomerang. Tell him you would like a good big one--a -fighting boomerang. He will either be dead or imprisoned before he -gets back. My boomerang is a fighting boomerang. It is made out of -very hard wood. At both ends it is pointed. The edge of it is like -that of a sword, and it is shaped like a young moon. My troubles with -this thing began in the streets of Brisbane. It would not go in any of -my portmanteaus, so I tied it on the outside of my bag. The bag then -became like a double-ended ram pointed at both ends. The first notice I -received about my double-ended ram was from an old gentleman against -whom my bag happened to bump. ‘D--n it, sir, what’s that? You’ve torn -my trousers,’ said he. I apologized, and felt very mean. I shall never -forget the way in which that old man glared through his spectacles, -first at me, then at his trousers, and then at the double-ender. The -last look decided the course I should take. I might charge him. After -this I tried to be more careful, and got on pretty well until I reached -the station. - -At the ticket-office I found myself in a crowd, and, the persons -behind pushing me, drove the double-ender into the legs and hinder -parts of those in front. The way in which they jumped and squirmed -was quite ridiculous. ‘Please excuse me; it’s only a boomerang,’ -I said. ‘Boomerang be hanged!’ said one man. ‘What do you mean by -bringing a thing like that for in here?’ By-and-by it got generally -known that there was a man with a boomerang in a bag coming through -the crowd, and they made a passage for us. The amount of apologies -that I made for my boomerang during the next six or seven days nearly -killed me. Every time I made a move into a railway-carriage, out of a -railway-carriage, near to a group of people where there was not much -room, I had always to herald myself by, ‘Ah! please excuse me--ahem! -I’ve got a boomerang.’ Once the bag got a side-blow, and swung round to -catch me across the calf of the leg; the result of which was that for -decency’s sake I had to borrow some pins to fasten up the rent. It is -useless to say that the trousers and my leg were both spoiled. My leg -got better, but the trousers didn’t. It cost me twenty-six shillings -for a new pair. Once or twice I thought of throwing the thing away; -but as I heard that boomerangs come circling back towards the thrower, -my courage failed me. To have a thing weighing forty pounds, with the -shape and edge of a scimitar, cavotting about your head, was not to be -risked. If I had paid a man to throw it away for me, I might have been -indicted for manslaughter. I would sooner be mated to a tinted Venus or -a Frankenstein than to a good-sized boomerang. - -Since the above experience I have tried the thing, and thus far it -has not exhibited a trace of the movement attributed to Noah’s dove. -At first I only threw it two or three feet; but as I gained courage I -threw it farther--first edgeways, then sideways, flatways, pointways, -straightways, upwards, downwards, obliquely forwards, backwards, -upwards, outwards, and in some fifty or sixty other manners and -directions, but invariably with the result that I had to walk after the -confounded thing and bring it back. I was afraid to leave the weapon -behind--it might kill somebody. I believe I have walked one thousand -seven hundred miles after that boomerang. The only way in which I have -been successful in inducing a boomerang to return to me has been either -by paying a man to fetch it, or else by tying a long string to it. -After this it is needless to say that the return of the boomerang is a -myth, and as a myth let us relegate it to the land of the unicorn and -the deadly upas. - -Note.--Since writing the above I met with a gentleman who -declares that boomerangs are capable of returning, not simply once, -but repeatedly. The difficulty, in his mind, was how to prevent them -from returning. ‘There were tame boomerangs and frisky boomerangs,’ he -remarked. My boomerang was probably a tame one. If his boomerang had -not knocked over two policemen and dispersed a crowd, he would at this -moment have been the inmate of a gaol. It came about in this way. ‘Do -you see,’ said he, ‘Christmas was drawing nigh, and I thought I would -buy something to amuse the kids. Well, I went into a big toy-shop at -the corner of Market Street, and, after looking at a lot of mechanical -dolls, rocking-horses, and what not, I decided on taking a boomerang. -The young lady, who wrapped it up in a sheet of stiff brown paper, -remarked that I had selected one that was rather lively. It was just -getting dark when I got in the ’bus, and I put the parcel containing -the boomerang on my knee. Once or twice I observed that the thing -began to edge along sideways towards the lap of an old lady, who was -my neighbour. “That parcel of yours seems to be fidgetty,” said she. -At that moment it gave a jump. “O lor’!” said the old lady; “why, -it’s alive!” “Don’t be alarmed, mum,” said I; “it’s quite harmless;” -and I put both hands over my purchase to keep it quiet. “It’s only a -boomerang that I bought to amuse the children.” At the word “boomerang” -everybody looked as if they had received an electric shock. One young -man put up his eyeglass, an old gentleman looked over his spectacles, -the old lady shot open her umbrella, and everybody edged away. If I had -said it was an infernal machine the consternation could not have been -greater. “Oh, you wicked young man!” said the old lady, still keeping -up her umbrella as a shield; but just then the ’bus stopped at the -corner of my street, so, wishing my companions good-night, I got out, -feeling, as you may suppose, much relieved. - -‘My wife opened the door for me. “Maria,” says I, “I’ve brought a -boomerang just to amuse you and the children.” “Oh, you darling!” and -she threw her arms round my neck. What she thought a boomerang was I -don’t know; but while she was dangling on my neck, the parcel slipped -from beneath my arm and dropped on the floor. - -‘As to the exact sequence of events which followed this unfortunate -accident, I have but a hazy recollection. For a moment or two the -parcel bobbed up and down on the floor, until the top of the boomerang -stuck through the paper, when off it went with a whizz, gyrating, -waltzing, twisting, and turning in all directions, round and round -the room. Maria was stretched flat; I got two bangs on the head, but -managed to crawl beneath the sofa; the cat was killed, the chandelier -was smashed, every ornament was cleared from the shelves. Then it -paused, balancing itself on one of its tops on the corner of the -sideboard. All of a sudden an idea seemed to strike it, and off it set -upstairs. For the next ten minutes I had the pleasure of listening to -my Christmas present smashing and banging round every room from the -first floor up to the attics. The servant-maids and the children had -luckily escaped to the cellar. Suddenly the noise stopped, and Maria, -who had found me beneath the sofa, suggested that the Christmas present -was taking breath. “This ain’t particular paradise, Maria,” said I. -“Oh, Tom, let us run into the street and call assistance.” Just as -we had got from beneath the sofa, we heard a hop-hop-hop on the top -story. The boomerang was evidently coming downstairs. “Shut the door!” -said Maria; and I did, but only just in time. When I looked through -the keyhole I could see Boomey with a bit of string and a streamer or -two of brown paper round its neck, sitting on the bottom stair. At -that moment there was a fearful knocking at the front door, and the -boomerang raised itself on end and hopped off along the passage, as -if it expected more sport. Maria ran to the window, and said, “Good -gracious, Tom, there’s two policemen!” “Throw them my latch-key,” said -I, “and tell them to come in.” I was too busy watching my friend in the -passage to do any interviewing myself. By the time Maria had got the -window opened a crowd had collected, who, when they saw Maria’s black -eyes and tangled hair, guffawed and made some remarks about the old -gal getting clawed by her husband. “Excuse me, marm,” said the bobby, -touching his hat, “but we’re come to arrest a gentleman a-living in -this house for having travelled in the streets with a boomerang.” “Yes, -policeman, this is the house he went into; I had him watched,” said an -old lady in the crowd. I recognised the voice as that of my neighbour -in the coach who had called me a wicked young man. “But,” says Maria, -in a state of terror at the thought of legal troubles. “But be hanged!” -I whispered to Maria. “Just tell them it’s all right--the gentleman’s -inside--and throw them the key. Boomey’ll get ’em!” Just then I could -see Boomey dancing up and down, and waltzing about in the passage, as -if he had understood the conversation. - -‘To see Boomey when the bobby opened that door was particularly fine. -He commenced with a gentle kind of tattoo, bouncing round from head to -head like the banjo of a Plymouth brother. He evidently just wanted to -get the crowd started, so that he could have some fun a-chasing of ’em. -When they did start, the stampede was immense. “Go it, granny!” shouted -an urchin from an upstairs window to the old woman who was my accuser; -“Boomey’s a-following!” The basketful of rags that lay in front of -the door before the crowd got clear would have run a paper-mill for a -month. For a week or two the house was in a state of siege. No one dare -venture outside the door without first looking up and down the street. -At last we got into the way of travelling by going from house to house. -By pre-arranged signals an open door would be ready for us. If all was -clear, we’d make a rush. If Boomey was following, we’d just snap the -door to, and wait until he’d gone. One or two tried shot-guns on him, -but it wasn’t a bit of good--it only seemed to make him more vicious. - -‘After clearing the town of cats and dogs, Boomey suddenly disappeared. -When I was last in Clarenceville I heard that he was raging round a -sheep station up in New England, and the contingent had gone up to try -their hand on him. - -‘After my experiences, sir, you needn’t tell me that boomerangs won’t -return; the difficulty is to keep ’em away.’ - - * * * * * - -P.S.--The information for the middle piece of this last story I cribbed -from a fellow-passenger. I suspect that he cribbed it from a book. When -I and the fellow-passenger meet the original author, we sincerely hope -that he will be prepared to reward us for the trouble we have taken in -making his remarkable story public. - - - - -_DARLING DOWNS AND NEW ENGLAND._ - - -The Darling Downs were the last I saw of Queensland. From Brisbane you -go to them by train. One of the waiters at the hotel told me that I had -better take my luggage to the station on the evening before starting. -If I took them before 8 p.m. I paid a shilling for a cab. If I took -them between the hours of 8 p.m. and 6 a.m. I should pay ten shillings. -I shall have more to say about Australian cabs and carts by-and-bye. -Independently of the cost of a conveyance, I was glad to take my bag -and boomerang to the station in daylight. The latter might have been -dangerous in the dark. The train left at 5.50 a.m. It was quite dark, -and I did not see much of the country or fellow-passengers until about -7 a.m., when we reached a pretty big town called Ipswich. Here we had -a scramble for a very bad breakfast, after which we got into the train -almost as cold as when we came out of it. At Ipswich I saw several -factories. Up to this point the country was undulating. Farther on I -saw a number of post and rail fences, a few small houses, and a great -lot of gum trees forming open woods. After a climb up a range of yellow -sandstone hills, we entered a park-like country. Here and there were a -lot of palms with heads on them like tufts of grass. These were grass -trees I suppose. Now and then there was a creek, consisting of a series -of pools of stagnant water. These I put down as an example of the -so-called _water-holes_ we read so much about in books on Australia. -Near the water there were some trees which looked like pines. These -I learnt were river oaks. Some big trees were called honeysuckles. -There are a lot of things in Australia which are not what they look -like. Sometimes we rushed past a ploughed clearing. It may have been -planted with wheat. In a few hours more we were again amongst hills, -and as we wound in and out, gradually climbing upwards, I had glimpses -of many pretty scenes. At mid-day we reached Toowoomba--the capital of -the Darling Downs. I don’t know whether I have spelt Toowoomba right, -but it is a very good example of the Hoos and Woos and Moos and Boos -they are so fond of in Australia. The letter O is a great favourite. -In Sydney I saw a word, in fact, I saw it every day, with eight O’s -in it. It was usually on an omnibus. At first I couldn’t read it for -astonishment. The next time I saw it I got as far as Woo, but as I ran -my eye along the length of the wonderful word, it got confused. It is -easy to lose your way in a good long word, especially if it is stuck on -a bus and the bus is moving. Once I chased a bus along a street, but I -never got past Wooloo. After that my sight was dazed, and I was in a -jumble. On returning to a hotel in the evening, I described my troubles -to the waiter, who wrote the mysterious word for me, and after ticking -slowly off the letters I found it was Wooloomooloo. I was told that -Woo-loo-moo-loo was the war cry of the aborigines, who resisted the -landing of the early settlers. Wooloomooloo, it may be observed, rhymes -with Timbuctoo. - -The latter part of the climb up to Toowomba (I spell the name -differently in different places because I hope that I may get it right -sometimes), which is situated on the very edge of the downs, was steep -enough to require two engines. If our engine had not been so leaky, -it might possibly have done the work alone. I never before saw an -engine that could afford to lose so much steam through its cylinder -covers outside a workshop. I am glad I went up to Toowomba, if it -was only to see this engine. The view looking back down the incline, -over the heads of the trees which filled the valley up which we had -come, was beautiful and extensive. Gum trees, in quantity, do very -well for general effect; when you get close to them, then you see too -many spaces. A forest of gum trees would look all right if viewed from -above, say from a balloon about ten miles high. Turning round and -looking ahead the scene was altered. Before us were the undulating open -Darling Downs, brown, flat, and anything but inviting. In spring time, -when they are green, they may perhaps be prairie-like, and beautiful -to the eye of the farmer, but as I saw them with their miles of wire -fencing, they were not so interesting as the desert of Arabia. I was -always going to places at the wrong season. They are of basaltic -formation, which probably overlies the sandstone which I had seen -below. Perhaps the basalt welled up through great fissures; perhaps it -came from some of the small conical hills which I saw farther along -the line. All the water from the basalt contains magnesia. New-comers -don’t like it. It produces peculiar effects. Now and then I saw flocks -of sheep. They did not seem to be eating. If they liked dry stubble, -clay, or bits of basalt, they might do very well. They were usually -standing still, with their noses all pointing one way. Why sheep -should keep parallel, and cows point about in all azimuths, I couldn’t -make out. I thought I should never get across the downs. Late in the -afternoon the basalt was replaced by sandstone, and we reached the -thriving township of Warwick. Here I saw a race-course. Every town in -Australia has a race-course, I fancy. Some of them have two or three -racecourses. Racing is an Australian mania. Australians like cricket, -football, rowing, and athletic sports generally. - -At Warwick there were a lot of Toowoomba football boys waiting to go -home. They must like football very much to cross the Darling Downs -for a game. I would as soon cross the Sahara. From Warwick we again -commenced to climb up hills. On either side we had open forests of -gum trees. Now and then we saw a wallaby or a kangaroo. Wallabys and -kangaroos are like gigantic crickets covered with hair. They have -long tails. Their great forte is jumping. From what I saw, I fancy -they would win the long jump at any athletic sports. Unless closely -pursued by the hunter, they do not care about jumping over wire -fences. They get past obstacles like these by lying down and rolling -through between the wires. Like donkeys, kangaroos carry their battery -in their back legs. When cornered by a pack of hounds, the kangaroo -pivots and places his back to the aggressors, and astonishes them with -lightning-like jerkings of his battery. Dogs are often disembowelled by -kangaroos. Some kangaroos have pouches in which they carry provisions. -If one kangaroo picks the pocket of another kangaroo the fight which -succeeds is terrific. At Thulimba, where we passed some clay slates and -granite, we were at an elevation of 3,004 feet, so said the railway -guide. It was cold enough for 10,000 feet. When we reached Stanthorpe, -which was the end of the line, it was bright moonlight and freezing -hard. Half an hour’s walk took us to Farley’s Hotel. Stanthorpe is a -funny little place. It consists of a few low, one-storied houses along -the sides of wide roads, I can’t call them streets. They have too much -grass on them to be streets. I hardly know why, but I shall remember -Stanthorpe, the last town I visited in Queensland, for very many -years. Perhaps the difficulty I had in getting there makes me remember -Stanthorpe. After a long journey at sea, any rock may be hailed as a -paradise. The hotel was like a little old-fashioned English hostelry. -There was the white-capped maid-servant, and there was the open hearth -with its huge log fire. When I looked at these logs fizzing and -crackling and throwing out a generous warmth, I thought well of scrubby -gum trees. The best thing, however, was the steaming fragrant half an -acre of beefsteak. ‘Will you try a little more beefsteak, sir?’ said -Mary; and I tried another perch or so. ‘Will you try a little pie--will -you try a little salt--will you try a little bread?’ Everything, it did -not matter whether it was flesh, fish, fowl, vegetable or mineral, Mary -always inquired if you would try a little of it. In this respect I may -remark that Mary was like nearly every waiter I met in the Colonies. -They all wanted you to try a little. The usual reply is to say, ‘Yes, -please, I will try a small piece more.’ If it is steak, a small piece -means the usual slab. - -Stanthorpe was at one time one of the principal tin mining centres -in this part of the world. There is still a little mining going on. -The tin occurs in grains and pebbles distributed through alluvium. -The earth is thrown into boxes or sluices through which water is -flowing. The light materials are washed away and the heavy tin remains -behind. At one place I was shown a band of granitic rock, through -which grains of tin were disseminated. It is probable that it was by -the decomposition of rock like this, that the alluvium deposits have -been formed. On my way out to this we passed the house of a gold miner -who had at one time been so elated with his success, that he made -horseshoes out of gold, with which he shod his horse. After a five-mile -ride, I believe the shoes were carefully removed. - -During the night I found it bitterly cold. Next morning everything -was white with frost, the ground was steaming in the rising sun, and -there was ice half an inch thick in the pails. This was tropical -Queensland. The streets were quiet, and with the exception of one man, -who was drunk and holding a maudlin conversation with a post, they were -deserted. This was the first time that I had heard a man talking to a -post, and I was quite interested to know what they had to say to each -other. People do sometimes talk to inanimate objects. I once heard of -a certain Mr. Smith who, when returning home late at night, had a -conversation with a pump. ‘Hillo, Tompkins, old chap! Hie! you’re out -late to-night.’ Tompkins was the pump. ‘Why don’t you walk about? Hie! -Very ridiculous standing there. You’ll catch cold, and what’ll your -wife say?’ Here Smith made a long pause, wondering why his friend was -so silent. ‘Can’t you talk? Suppose its beastly pride. I’m not proud. -Gimme your hand, and let’s help you home, old chappie.’ And rolling up -to the pump he took hold of the handle. - -‘Oh! ’ow cold your ’ands is; you gimme the shivers. You’re like an -iceberg, Tompkins!’ Just then the pump-handle, under the weight of -Smith, slightly moved and squeaked. ‘Hillo, you’re wheasy, old man. -Let’s go and get six pennoth ’ot. Your wife’ll blow me up if I bring -you home cold.’ Leaning a little more on the pump, the handle suddenly -sank, and Smith tumbled forwards just in time to receive a deluge of -water from the spout. ‘So you’re sick; are you, you beast? No need to -treat a fellow like that. Shan’t stay here any more. May take yourself -home, Mr. Tompkins.’ And away Smith rolled, muttering something about -‘beastly behaviour’ and the ‘evil effects of drink.’ - -My man was not so bad as Smith. He had got his arm round the post of a -veranda. At one time he looked like the picture of Samson carrying off -the gates of Gaza. At another time he was like a revolving hobby horse. -His conversation was too inarticulate to be noted. - -I spent a Sunday in Stanthorpe. A gentleman at the hotel took me out -for a drive. As we went along he carefully pointed out the devastation -left by the Chinese. ‘They come here,’ he said, ‘bring nothing but a -blue blouse, eat nothing but what they import themselves, work out the -ground that ought to be worked by white men, and then they go carrying -away gold, and only leaving those heaps of gravel’ (here he pointed -with his whip) ‘where they have been fossicking. They are usurpers of -a white man’s country. The white man is starving, and his wife and -daughters are thrown on charity, and all this because our Government is -wicked enough to let Chinamen come in the country.’ - -As we came back I saw a small Australian bear lying dead at the -foot of a tree. It looked to me like a sloth. It is a feeble, timid -creature, but has certain peculiarities which renders it worthy of a -passing note. When up a tree which is being felled, it has been known -to sob and cry with so much pathos, that the woodman has often ceased -his work, and gone beneath the branch on which he hung to seek for -falling tears. Many bushmen have sobbed themselves, and no one, I -have been told, can fell trees in Southern Queensland without several -pocket-handkerchiefs. A tender-hearted man can never earn a livelihood -by felling trees. The child-like grief of this little bear has been -known to overcome the stoutest hearts. Even the bloodthirsty bushranger -has had his heart softened by its weeping, and chronic sorrow is not -uncommon in districts where this animal abounds. - -From Stanthorpe I travelled by coach to Glen Innis. It was a long -journey through the bush. I started at 8 a.m., and got to the end of -my journey at 6 a.m. next morning. I thought I was going to die in -this journey, so I am not likely to forget it. I had a box-seat all -the way, and a box-seat in a gale of wind, with the thermometer below -zero and wearing ordinary summer clothes, is not an enviable position. -The scenery was certainly lovely. Outside Stanthorpe we crossed the -track of a new railway line, which in time will be the connecting -link between the lines of Queensland and New South Wales. Near here -we crossed the border between these two colonies. After that our road -was over hills and valleys through interminable bush. Once or twice we -saw a kangaroo, and now and then a wallaby. Some of the old kangaroos, -which are known as old men kangaroos, will often sit up and stare at -you before they jump away. ‘No papers this morning, Jim?’ said a driver -to one of those old men sitting near the road, and the old man jumped -away. ‘Dear me,’ said a new chum, sitting next the driver. ‘I didn’t -know that kangaroos were so civilized.’ When the driver told this story -all the passengers in the coach laughed immoderately, and, not to be -conspicuous, I joined them. - -At one of the stations where we changed horses, I was very much amused -by watching two frisky lambs chasing a flock of geese. The geese -were terrified and flapped away from their pursuers. Presently a dog -appeared about half a mile away, and the frisky lambs bolted in the -opposite direction. At the next station to this there were only young -girls living. They groomed the horses, and gave us our dinner. At all -of these places we had glorious wood fires and open chimneys, at which -we could toast our frozen feet. As we jogged along, the driver tried -to instruct me about gum trees, and to illustrate his lessons as we -passed along, he grabbed bunches of leaves from overhanging trees, -which he gave me sometimes to smell and sometimes to taste. Some of -them were not unpleasant to the nose, others were frightful. ‘Some you -might live on,’--at least that is what he said. - -Notwithstanding all that I was taught, gum trees are to me all alike--a -scraggy variety of the vegetable kingdom. Tenterfield, which we reached -in the afternoon, is a nice little town with modern buildings, some -of which are three stories high. It is situated on an open undulating -country laid out in blocks for farming purposes. Many of the gentlemen -in the streets wore tall hats--many the ladies wore brilliant and shiny -black satin. By this time the box-seat had begun to tell on me, and -I was more than wheezy. Notwithstanding something hot and a bag of -‘lollies,’ by the time I reached the next station, which was a solitary -house in the bush called Bolivia, I could only whisper. This was at 9 -p.m., and it was a question whether I should stay and die at Bolivia, -or get in the coach to be hauled along to die at or about Glen Innis. -At Glen Innis I might get a decent burial. In the bush there would not -be much ceremony. This latter ride, through dark bush, on rough roads, -up hill and down dale, with your marrow frozen, is not to be forgotten. -The cold I got remained with me for three months. All this is extremely -personal, but as it may possibly be the means of preventing some other -innocent wanderer from anticipating death, I put it in. When I am -next seen coaching in a tropical country, I hope to be wearing a fur -coat and a blanket. All that I can say about Glen Innis is that it is -a good-looking town with several fairly good hotels, situated about -3,500 feet above sea level. - -From Glen Innis to Newcastle there is a regular English narrow-gauge -railroad. The carriages were, so far as my unprofessional eye could -tell, a senseless copy of what there is in the old country. In winter -they were bearable, but in summer the carriage I was in must be -stifling. It had neither curtains nor sunshades. The Brisbane line was -American, narrow gauge and with long carriages on bogie trucks. At one -place we passed over a height of 4,500 feet. This was on the side of a -mountain called Ben Lomond. All the way down to Newcastle through New -England there was much cultivated country, and many prettily situated -towns. The journey took fourteen and a half hours. - -At Newcastle I took quarters in an hotel, which was not the best one in -the place. A fellow-traveller on the train recommended it to me as the -best house in Newcastle. You entered at a bar where there was a stream -of visitors passing in to drink, and then passing out rubbing their -mouths with their coat-sleeves. - - -A Newcastle Legend; or, the Story of the Dark Room. - -My bedroom was like a cellar taken upstairs. But for a glimmer that -came in over a door leading into a drawing-room, I was in utter -darkness. It was even necessary to light a candle to dress by. When -next morning I interviewed the landlord I inquired as to the nature of -his contract with the neighbouring barber, for no one could possibly -see to shave in his establishment. - -“What, were you in number sixteen?” asked the landlord. “I gave strict -orders that no guests were to be put in that room. The trouble that -I experienced about that room nearly killed me once. If you want me -to pay your barber’s account I’ll do it with pleasure, but anyhow you -might take a drink before you leave just to show that you don’t owe -me any ill feeling on account of having slept in number sixteen.” -All the while the landlord looked so anxiously at me, that I began -to think that he was astonished at seeing me alive. “Can’t visitors -sleep in number sixteen?” I asked. “Sleep indeed,” was the reply, -“the difficulty is to stop them sleeping. I had one man sleep in the -room for nearly a week without ever coming out of it.” “Well, what’s -the matter?” I inquired; “has there been a murder committed in number -sixteen, is it haunted or what?” - -“It happened in this way,” said the landlord. “Just about this time -last year, we had a lot of visitors from up country making their way -southwards towards Melbourne, anxious, I suppose, to be in time to see -the Melbourne Cup. One cold drizzly afternoon an elderly man arrived -carrying in his hand a small yellow portmanteau tied up with a rope. He -said he had been sitting in the coach for the last three or four days, -and was very tired. From his dirty clothes and a curious limp that he -had got, we could quite believe that he had been knocking about for -some time. - -“I asked my wife what we should do with the stranger, as all the rooms -were full. ‘Oh, put him in number sixteen, Joe,’ said my wife. ‘It’s -dark now, and maybe he’ll get up pretty early and never know that -there’s no window.’ At that time I may tell you that the door into the -drawing-room had not been made, so there was no window. The quantity -of steak and bread that the old man put away while having his supper -was something terrible. Matilda, who had been sitting in the back -parlour listening to the order which he gave, said ‘she thought he was -provisioning a fortress.’ At last he went to bed. On his way upstairs -he hoped that number sixteen was a quiet room, and that no one would -disturb him in the morning. He wanted to make up for the sleep he had -lost sitting in the coach. As I was going downstairs I heard him lock -and double-bolt his door, and then commence to hum a tune. This was -at 9 p.m. on June 30th. I don’t know whether you can believe me, but -that door was not opened until 12 o’clock on the 5th of July. Of course -we didn’t take much notice of him next morning. He wanted to sleep he -said, and perhaps might not turn out until 12 o’clock. When dinner -time came I had forgotten all about him. You know it is difficult for -us to keep the run of all our guests, and, besides, he might have been -outside attending to business in the town. - -“That night, however, Susan, the chambermaid, told my wife that she -could not open number sixteen; whenever she knocked at the door there -was no answer. We thought it a bit odd, but as he said he was tired and -wanted to sleep we did not disturb him. - -“Next morning, as he did not turn up to breakfast, my wife was a bit -anxious, and said to me, ‘You’d better go upstairs, Joe, and see if -number sixteen is going to get up.’ Well, after knocking at the door -two or three times, somebody inside said, ‘Hillo! what’s the matter?’ -‘Ain’t you going to get up?’ says I. ‘All right,--presently,’ was the -answer, and I went downstairs and told my wife. - -“Dinner time came and then tea time, but still number sixteen hadn’t -come down. ‘Better go and rap again, Joe,’ said my wife. Up I went, -and after thumping on the door till I heard somebody inside grumbling -about a noisy house and people not being allowed to sleep. ‘Are you -never going to get up?’ I said through the keyhole. ‘Will get up when -it’s daylight,’ was the answer. ‘He’ll get up when it’s daylight,’ said -I to myself. ‘Why, it’s nearly forty-eight hours since he went to bed, -and he talks of sleeping twelve hours more.’ When I told my wife what -number sixteen had said, she looked at me a moment, and then said, -‘Joe, this comes of putting a man into a dark room. It never will be -daylight in there.’ ‘Matilda, you’ve struck it, exactly,’ I said; ‘the -old fool thinks it is in the middle of the night.’ Then we discussed -what we should do. ‘Better let him alone to-night,’ was Maria’s -suggestion; ‘he has got to sleep somewhere you know. We can tell him -that it’s daylight to-morrow morning.’ - -“Next morning I was at the door of number sixteen pretty early. - -“Rat-tat-tat went my knuckles on the panels. ‘Hillo!’ was the answer. -‘Going to get up to-day; it’s morning,’ says I. ‘Morning be hanged,’ -was the answer. ‘If you don’t go away, I’ll call up the landlord and -have you removed. Don’t want to be disturbed by intoxicated visitors. -Telling me it’s morning when it’s pitch dark. You’re drunk.’ - -“Well, I was just flabbergasted to be called drunk. At this moment -Matilda, who was getting curious about the stranger, had joined me. -‘He calls you drunk, does he?’ says Matilda; ‘let me talk to him,’ -and rat-tat-tat went Matilda’s knuckles on the door. ‘Hey, you inside -there, are you going to get up? You’ve been sleeping sixty hours,’ said -she. - -“‘At it again, are you, old fool?’ was the answer. At the word ‘old -fool’ you ought to have seen Matilda’s face. I thought her eyes would -have come out of her head. ‘Old fool!’ she gasped, ‘me an old fool; -it’s the first time I’ve been called an old fool, and in my own house -too.’ For the next ten minutes Matilda kept on saying ‘old fool’ to -herself. - -“Me an old fool and my husband drunk indeed! I’ll give it to you, you -wicked old ass,’ then, putting her mouth to the keyhole, she poured -into number sixteen’s ears such a shower of superlative adjectives as -he’ll never forget. I didn’t know she had it in her. ‘You dirty old -bear, do you think we’re going to have you hibernating all winter in -our bedroom. Get up, you old beast, and we’ll teach you some manners. -So you think Joe’s drunk, and I’m an old fool, do you? Out you get now, -quick, before I call in the policemen. You old villain, you, to think -you can insult people in their own house.’ Here she paused to get a -little breath. She was just putting her lips to the hole to continue, -when there was a fearful bang on the door, and something which sounded -like a boot dropped on the floor. - -“‘Joe! Joe!’ said Matilda, ‘he’s thrown his boot at me,’ and with a -little scream she fell fainting in my arms. For the next few hours -number sixteen held quiet possession of his apartments while I was -plying Matilda with brandy and cold water. - -“What was to be done nobody knew. ‘Starve him out’ was one suggestion. -‘At nine o’clock to-night he will have been in bed seventy-two hours, -and he must be getting pretty hungry.’ - -“By this time the other guests in the hotel had got wind of the fact -that there was something strange going on in number sixteen, and -several of them left us. - -“Nine o’clock came, but yet there was no sign that the old man intended -to capitulate. All night long Matilda was so worked up about our guest -that she would not let me sleep. We couldn’t burst the door open, -because it was double-bolted. It would be easier to cut a hole through -the wall--the one on the drawing-room side was only plaster and wood. - -“‘If we can’t starve him,’ said Matilda, ‘we can stop the old bear from -sleeping. Yes, that’s what we’ll do.’ Next morning we were up betimes, -and the business of keeping number sixteen from sleeping commenced. The -work we did that day was something terrible; we took it in turns, two -hours at a time, beating a frying-pan on the door-handle. At first the -visitors who had remained in the house thought it a joke, but towards -evening several of them thought it a nuisance, and moved with their -traps over to the Great Northern. Number sixteen never made a sound. At -eight o’clock that night, when Matilda came up to relieve me with the -frying-pan she said: ‘Suppose he is dead, Joe?’ He seemed to have heard -this. ‘So you are there again, you old fool, are you; it isn’t your -fault that I’m not dead. You have had your racket for the last twelve -hours, now I’m going to have mine;’ and then there commenced such a -row as you never heard. How he managed it I don’t know, he seemed to -have got all the fire-irons tied together and kept them bumping against -each other and the wooden wall. ‘Stop! for goodness’ sake, stop!’ I -shouted. ‘Oh, no,’ says he. ‘Why have you stopped? Please go on; the -two together will make a charming duet!’ and then he continued to bang -and clash as if he was going to bring down the house. By eleven p.m. -every visitor that had remained in the house had disappeared, and there -was I, Matilda, Susan, and Jo, the ostler, listening to the inferno -going in number sixteen. At midnight two neighbours came in saying they -couldn’t sleep, and if the row did not cease they would report the -house as disorderly, and have our licence cancelled. Of course nobody -slept that night. Matilda spent most of her time in weeping. ‘Let us -try quiet measures to-morrow,’ I suggested. - -“Next morning we both went to the door, and told the gentleman that he -had been in bed for nearly five days, and if he would get up we should -be much obliged. We were sorry, we said, that there was no window in -the room; but if he would open the door, we would give him a light. - -“Getting quite ‘perlite’ we heard him remark to himself, and then -speaking louder he said ‘he would do what he could to oblige us.’ Then -we heard him step on the floor. For a moment there was quietness; but -it was only for a moment, for immediately afterwards we heard a crash. -‘My looking-glass!’ said Matilda, and tears again began to run down -her face. Presently there was another crash. ‘There go the washing -utensils!’ I said; but, before I could tell him how to steer, we heard -some fearful abuse, and he told us he had got into bed again. He -couldn’t steer through a pot-shop in the dark. - -“‘Never mind the things,’ sobbed Matilda; ‘do please try and find the -door.’ - -“‘What will you give me to try?’ said he. ‘You have imprisoned me in a -dark cell for five days, my feet have been cut with trying to get out, -and I am nearly dead from starvation. I shall certainly prosecute you -when I do get out. If you will push £5 through the keyhole, and send -with it a bit of paper, saying that the money is on account of the five -days’ pleasant company I have afforded, I’ll make a try and say no more -about the business.’ There was no doubt but that we were cornered, so, -after a consultation, we poked the five sovereigns and the bit of paper -through the keyhole. - -“After he heard the sovereigns fall, he asked us to shine a light -through the hole; and, as you can guess, it wasn’t long before he found -the door. - -“When he was gone, and we went to clean up the room, we found the -bedclothes full of the tailings of ham sandwiches and crumbs of bread. -Underneath the bed there were several empty bottles. What the yellow -portmanteau tied up with string had contained was clear; but why a -healthy, strong man should come and camp in a bedroom for five days, -it took us long to discover. We had all sorts of theories. Tilly had a -notion that he was hiding to escape justice. - -“Some time afterwards the mystery was solved by some strangers from -Rockhampton laughing over a story that they had seen in one of their -local papers. _It was about a fellow who won a wager of £500 by staying -at an hotel in Newcastle to which he was a perfect stranger, and being -paid £5 for the pleasant company he had afforded._ - -“I never like strangers to sleep in number sixteen now, sir.” - - * * * * * - -The trade of Newcastle is indicated by its name. Although there are -no collieries in the town, the town has nevertheless a very dingy -aspect. It looked like a town where there ought to be coal--like a -town where there was more business than pleasure. At breakfast the -landlord officiated at the slabs of meat and mounds of steaming chops. -It is a common thing in the Colonies for landlords and landladies to do -the polite at the head of the table. To me they were like watchdogs, -guarding the spoons and forks. When you go away they are usually very -friendly, and shake hands. One landlord, after two hours’ acquaintance, -began to slap me on the back, and commence his sentences with, “Now, -Tom, old boy!” If landlords are jovial, this does not matter very much; -but when they are of a retiring disposition, they make you feel that -they are obliging you by giving you admission to their houses. One -rule for a traveller in Australia is to remember that, in entering an -hotel, he is not necessarily obliging the landlord. While breakfasting -I looked over an old copy of the _Newcastle Morning Herald and Miner’s -Advocate_, where, under the title of “Football on Sunday,” I read about -an unfortunate little boy who had been summoned by the police for -having played football on Sunday in the Royal Park. Oh, you goody, -goody people! How particular you are not to be naughty on Sunday--that -is to say, on the particular twenty-four hours you have set apart to -represent Sunday! When you are roistering, your father and mother in -Britain may be praying; and when your father and mother in Britain -are roistering, you may be praying. You seem to recognise your vices, -and you do what you can to prevent them. On Sunday you close your -public-houses for the whole day, and on week-days you usually close -them at night about ten o’clock. You would not even go to the limits -of a Forbes-Mackenzie. On Sunday you stream to your churches, with the -spires of which many of your towns are fairly bristling, and often -listen to the wisdom of a young man. You look up to him, admire him, -and discuss him. Even if his views are palpably wrong, you tolerate -him and give him support. While travelling in the Colonies I talked on -religious subjects with several persons, all of whom were wealthy--one -was a member of Parliament--who inveighed against all forms of religion -but their own, in a manner which reminded me of the fanaticism of -the Middle Ages. One gentleman, and a high Government official took -me round one Sunday evening to look through the windows of a Roman -Catholic chapel, where we saw a priest swinging incense. “Look at the -idolaters! They are the ruin of the country; they ought to be classed -with savages, and swept off the face of the earth!” was what he -expressed. - -Religion of this sort is a religion of all who are partially educated. -They regard themselves as the centre of the universe, and, regardless -of what their own particular views would have been had they been reared -in Mecca, they have the conceit to publicly express the measures they -would adopt to reform the world. In the Colonies there are undoubtedly -many of every denomination who have an education and ideas equally -advanced with the leaders of similar denominations in other parts -of the globe. About these we will say nothing--we only speak of the -generality; and that generality, I must confess, was judged of by a -small experience. One measure of the general uncouthness with regard to -religious ideas is the enormous support the Salvationists have received -in the Colonies. Where is the country in the whole world which has -given a greater support (I reckon support by percentages of the whole -population) to the Salvation Army than Australia? Ranting, raving, -roaring processions of the lower classes may be seen in every town. -A low, uneducated mind apparently finds comfort in a rough form of -worship. - -Look, again, at the followers of the Blue Ribbon. I have never yet been -on a steamer where some of these gentlemen desirous of advertising -their principles have not been present. Further, it has but rarely -happened that they have not opened an argument about their views to a -fellow-passenger, who in many cases was perhaps a better exponent of -their doctrines than they themselves. To declare your principles may -be heroic, but it is only the vulgar who make themselves objectionable -when making their declarations. Nearly every Blue Ribbonite I met with -was decidedly vulgar, and, like the Salvationists, bold but ignorant. -When these middle lower classes of Australia are educated, there may -be fewer examples of these primitive kinds of worship. The same may be -said for other countries. - -Notwithstanding all the religious parades which continually bumped -against me, I observed that vices were about the same as in other -countries. There was the usual gambling to be seen on steamers and in -hotels, the usual betting and bookmaking, the usual drinking, the usual -games at euchre, and, in short, the usual everything. - -The traffic-manager of every railway tries to stop smoking, or at least -to surround smoking with so many discomforts that it will stop itself. -In New South Wales, for instance, you read at every station, “Any -person found smoking on the railway premises is liable to a fine of -£2.” Still you get a smoking-carriage. To call it a truck or van might -be better. - -On the suburban lines of Melbourne, between the hours of four and eight -in the afternoon, you get a sort of smoking-box to sit in. It almost -seems to have been intentional to make the smoking accommodation as -filthy as possible. Nowhere in the world--and I have been round it and -round it in many directions--did I ever meet with smoking-carriages -in such a very dirty condition as those near Melbourne. If you got in -quickly, you might possibly get a seat. If you were late, you had to -stand in the middle of the van (for the conveyances are more like vans -with seats round them than carriages). There is a mat, which I always -saw in a state of sop: this was produced by saliva. To drop a parcel -would be to leave it, for it would be too soiled to pick up. - -If people are crammed together like pigs, a place has a tendency to -become like a pigstye. Why Victorians are content with the smoking -accommodation provided by the suburban lines at Melbourne is a mystery. - -From Newcastle I made a trip to one of the coal-mines, distant perhaps -ten miles. Part of the journey was accomplished on the ordinary -railroad; the remainder of the journey, on a private line, was made in -a locomotive kindly put at my disposal by the proprietors of one of the -mines. - -On the Newcastle line I was particularly struck by a large printed -notice at the bookstall, which ran as follows: “Persons _not_ requiring -books at the stall are requested to leave the same alone.” This was in -large type, and the _not_ was underlined. Directions for the guidance -of the public so courteous as this are worthy of record. - -My companions in the railway-carriage are also worthy of a note. To -see one lady that is stout and plain is not an unusual occurrence; but -on the memorable day of July 30, 1885, I had no less than ten stout -ladies to admire. Each of them looked cross, and, from the way in which -they glared at me, they were evidently strong-minded. Perhaps I was in -the compartment reserved for ladies; but as the train was in motion -before this dawned upon me, my mistake could not be rectified until I -reached the end of my journey. Once or twice I glanced upwards, just -to see a battery of flashing eyes, a circle of fat red faces, and -bale-like heaps of lace and spangles, each of which extended over the -area usually occupied by two people. While breathing a close atmosphere -of rich perfumery, I made the calculation that as the most fairy-like -of my companions weighed at least 200 lb., the whole ten of them must -have reached the enormous weight of 2000 lb., or nearly a ton. Fancy -being cooped up with a whole ton of female beauty, each unit of the -whole having a strong intellect, and being at the same time fearfully -muscular. I often wondered whether they were on their way to some show. -They looked domestic, and, assuming they were blessed with spouses, the -spouses must have felt blessed too. From these remarks I do not wish -it to be supposed that all Australian ladies are like the remarkable -ten into whose company I unintentionally had forced myself. Australian -ladies are as pretty and as enchanting as the ladies in other parts of -the globe. Abnormalities occur in every country. I only remember seeing -one other stout lady. She was jolly and agreeable, as stout people -usually are. I travelled with her for perhaps two hundred miles. By the -time the first hundred were over we were quite confidential. She was -going to see Parker. Parker was her husband. Her name was Cleopatra, -but her husband called her Cloppy for short. “When I left Parker three -years ago,” said Cloppy, “I was slim as a lath.” At the end of the -journey Parker was standing on the platform. He must have looked at -Cloppy for at least two minutes before he opened his mouth. When he did -open it, he smiled, then he grinned, until finally he couldn’t contain -himself for laughing. We had to pat him on the back. “Why, Cloppy,” he -said, and then he was off in convulsions again; “I hardly knew you. You -are fat!” and he was off again in tears. “Well,” replied Cloppy, who -was commencing to look a little bothered, “if I’d thought you was going -to make a fool of yourself in this way, I’d never have come. There -now, come along;” and she led Parker away with his sides shaking. - -There are big men as well as big ladies in Australia. The tall men you -see about the streets and in the hotels they are often quite noticeable. - -The coal-mines well repaid the visit. I was shown every courtesy that -could be desired. There was no particular reason why I should have been -shown any courtesy whatever. I visited the coke-ovens and works above -ground, and afterwards walked some miles underground, where everything -that was remarkable was carefully described. On the surface I was -particularly struck with the size of a coal-box. Ordinary coal-boxes -are portable; this coal-box had been made too large to admit of -removal. It held, I was told, upwards of 3,000 tons of coal. If they -had told me that it would have held half the coal in the universe I -should have unhesitatingly accepted the statement, and noted it down as -a fact to be publicly recorded. This box was built of wood. It stood -on legs, so that locomotives and whole trains could run underneath it. -Beneath this particular coal-box--for at other mines there are also -coal-boxes--there were three lines of rails, so that three long trains -could seek the shelter of its wings. These wings were sliding doors. -Open the doors, when, presto! the trucks beneath were full, and three -great trains could start away laden with a cargo of black diamonds -sufficient to supply the British fleet. Unfortunately, the British -fleet never came to be supplied. Newcastle folks have had a mania for -coal loading. At Newcastle itself they have a wonderful arrangement -of hydraulic cranes, which lift whole trucks, much as we would lift -a spoonful of soup, and then tip it into any portion of a ship where -the coals are wanted. In many cases I believe that the supply comes -in more quickly than those in the ship can get it trimmed. It is a -wonderful fact, but skippers say it is a fact, that, in consequence of -this, the coolies of China and the boys and girls of Japan can load -an ocean-going steamer as fast with coals as it can be done with the -hydraulic cranes of Newcastle. At Nagasaki I have been told that the -passing in and passing out of a cargo is a sight to be remembered. -Women or boys stand shoulder to shoulder up the gangways from the -lighter to the steamers. The baskets of coal fly along from hand to -hand, and so rapidly, that no individual ever carries any weight; all -that he does is to give the flying parcel an additional quantity of -momentum. The empty baskets pass back in a similar manner. The general -effect is that of a huge circle of revolving baskets. All this is -accompanied by parrot-like chattering and giggling. The Easterns are a -happy lot. When they have finished coaling they wash themselves. - -Underground I was shown where a great fire had occurred. In places the -coal was burnt to a cinder. As you receded you passed places where it -was only coked. The shales that accompany the coal had been baked to -a state of brick or porcelain. This fire had been put out by flooding -the mine with water. This was accomplished by making a huge syphon -out of a 6-inch pipe, and conducting water from a creek which, at the -time of the fire, very luckily happened to be in a state of flood. The -seam I saw was six feet thick. In places it was a bituminous coal; -in other parts it had a stony look--this was splint coal. On one -occasion this splint coal had been returned, the buyers thinking it was -shale. As a matter of fact, it was a better coal than the bituminous -variety. Buyers often grumble about it. One thing of interest was a -contrivance for automatically greasing the wheels of the coal-trucks. -Another striking arrangement was a bar of iron called a “bull,” which -was to stop a truck from running away, supposing it got free when on an -incline. - - * * * * * - -Sydney was the next great city which I visited. There is a daily, or -rather nightly, steamer communication between Newcastle and Sydney. -Before long there will be a railway connection, when the steamers -will have to lower their prices, or to seek their freights in other -ports. It was night when I left Newcastle. On my way to the wharf I -asked a young man the way to the boat for Sydney. His reply could not -even be put in Latin. In all countries which are leading factors in -the world’s advancement, we find the over-civilized, the civilized, -the semi-civilized. The gentleman to whom I spoke on the Newcastle -wharf might out of courtesy be admitted to the last class. I suppose -he belonged to that particular division of the human species known -in Australia as the larrikin, in ’Frisco as the corner boy, and in -London as the loafer. Sydney and Melbourne are the headquarters of -the larrikin. They may, if it is an honour, claim the invention of -this excrescence in Australian civilization. By some, the larrikin -is regarded as a type of humanity which owes its peculiarity to a -redundance of animal spirits. It includes shop-boys and young workmen, -who shriek after couples in the act of spooning: “Heh! why don’t -you marry the girl! I’ll tell your mother what you’ve done!” Young -gentlemen who are impertinent and cheeky. Young men who are given to -larks and larking. Thus their name. The larrikins I have seen have -certainly the above qualification; but, in addition, not only do they -make themselves conspicuous by their wits, but they live by them. -During the day they are apparently idle. They stand at corners, where -they smoke. The better class of them, or rather those whose “wits” are -above the average, adopt black suits, velvet collars, and high-heeled -boots. You see the larrikin in numbers on piers, especially on the -arrival of a steamer. I say they live on their wits, because, like the -policemen, I really do not know how they do live. “Go down Clarence -Street at night with some money, and you will find out,” said a friend -of mine. What he meant I do not know. - -The larrikins are the town loafers of Australia. The country loafers -are called sundowners. These are gentlemen who travel with their swag -on their backs, and so arrange their movements that if possible they -reach a station at sundown. Here they take advantage of the hospitality -accorded to strangers, and practically demand shelter and food. To -refuse them might be dangerous, for after their departure fences might -be destroyed, fires might break out, or other little troubles might -occur which would be objectionable and dangerous. The sundowner is a -black mailer, and many of the squatters find his demands a serious -item in their expenses. - -An old gentleman whom we suspected as being a sundowner visited our -ship while it was lying at the wharf in Newcastle. He was a tall old -man with a long grey beard. His tattered clothes, his staff, and the -bundle on his back, made him so much like the pictures of Rip Van -Winkle that he attracted general attention. His worn shoes and dusty -appearance indicated that he had travelled many miles. He told Captain -Green, who did the interviewing, that he had walked across the Blue -Mountains from Sydney to Brisbane, and was in search of work. He was an -engineer, but wherever he went, there was always the same answer,--‘Old -men are not employed.’ As he was evidently a man who had interesting -experiences to relate, our Captain asked him on board. His foot was no -sooner on the deck than he saw a Chinaman. “What!” exclaimed the old -man, “you carry wretches like that,--heathens who have robbed me of -honest employment,” and he seemed inclined to leave the ship. A little -persuasion, however, brought him into the cabin, and when a heathen had -given him a steak and a bottle of porter, his bitterness subsided. - -It turned out that he had been educated at Bath, and when he heard that -the captain had been in Bath, the old man’s eyes almost filled with -tears. ‘You must know the old church, then?’ ‘Yes, yes; I shall never -forget an inscription on one of the gravestones I read there; forty -years ago now: - - ‘“Life is but a maze of crooked streets, - Death is the market-place where each man meets; - If life were merchandise which men could buy, - None but the rich would live, and only poor would die.”’ - -Had our captain been able to keep the old gentleman on board, his -quotations, relating of incidents, and above all his mannerism, would -have formed materials for an interesting biography. - -Now for Sydney. I must say that when I had passed the barrier of -larrikins, and reached one of the main streets, I was greatly -astonished. The bustle, the omnibuses, the cabs, the people, and the -general business-like flow of vehicles and people, reminded me of a -street in the little village on the Thames. The first hotel I tried -was the Royal. A notice in the smoking-room, which, by-the-bye, could -only be reached by verandas and windows, to the effect that “Any person -leaving cigar ash or ends about the room will be prosecuted as the law -directs,” etc., etc., quite frightened me. Jokes like these are so near -reality in the Colonies, that they ought not to be practised. - -Everywhere you tumble on notices and articles inveighing against -smoking, swearing, and other vices, so that a stranger gets nervous, -lest by accident he should be caught tripping. I left that hotel, and -shortly afterwards found myself located at another hostelry, situated -on a hill in the midst of churches. Oh, those sweet church bells! Those -evening chimes. Think of the thousands of sleepless nights you have -caused. An organ-grinder may be ordered to move on by law. Why are you -exempt? You jangle, jangle, jangle, all in discord and without meaning. - -I spent some days in Sydney, and all day and every day I walked and -rode about in all directions. One day I strolled through the Botanical -Gardens, enjoying glimpses of Sydney’s beautiful harbour. ‘Oh, have -you seen our harbour?’ is a question addressed to every stranger. -How a stranger who visits Sydney is to avoid seeing the harbour is a -great puzzle. Whichever way you walk you must come to the harbour--its -ramifications extend in all directions. Although it has only one -entrance, and is seldom more than a mile in breadth, often being much -less, it is said to measure round its shore line more than seventeen -hundred miles. Sydney people and Australians, when abroad, are for ever -doing all they can to create a prejudice against this beautiful corner -of creation. Morning, noon, and night the changes that are rung upon -the words, Sydney Harbour and beautiful, at last become as wearying as -the bells. Still, the harbour is beautiful. I went up the Paramatta to -see it. - -As you steam along the smooth waters, and gaze at vista after vista -of islands, river-like expanses and rocky promontories, you might -fancy yourself at rest, while acres upon acres of panoramic views were -slowly drifting past you. All you require to complete the illusion -is slow music, and on fête days I presume such a want is supplied in -plenty. The rocks are yellowish-grey sandstone. As you get away from -the town, which looks more like a gigantic watering-place than a city -for business, the hills, instead of being capped with houses, are -capped with scrub. Whales and other marine monsters which have entered -Sydney Roads, must be quite bewildered by the twists and turns they are -compelled to take. Probably many of them get lost. As we progress up -the harbour, we see villas and cottages built on cliff-like slopes or -islands. Many of these have gardens, which of necessity are filled with -mounds and huge rocks. The Britisher residing on the shores of Sydney -Harbour is compelled by nature to have a garden that is picturesque. -His squares, and circles, and complications of geometrical figures, -cut in dirt and marked out with bright flowers or tiles, in which -his mechanical, unartistic soul delights, are here an impossibility. -Here he must content himself with figures and effects carved out by -nature--his own artificial regularities being an impossibility. - -Where the harbour was narrow it was spanned by iron bridges. Those -which I saw were perhaps half a mile in length, and of the Warren -girder type. They carry an ordinary roadway. They might carry a double -line of rails. - -A young Chinaman who had been studying engineering in Europe was on -board. He told me that he thought iron was cheap when these bridges -were built. It might be cheap to pull them down, and then put up double -the number of bridges with the same material. Of course the heathen -student was wrong. I told him that each bridge should be strengthened, -and should then be restricted to the use of foot passengers. - -Another trip that I made was out to Coogee. This was in a steam-tram. -Steam-trams are a great feature in Sydney. They run through the heart -of the town. They consist of a locomotive and two or three carriages. -To send an ordinary train steaming, chuffing, smoking, snorting, firing -off ashes, steam, and dirty water through thickly populated streets, -is more than many towns would tolerate. Sydneyites, however, send -something more than all this through their town--not every hour, but -in places two or three times every five minutes. They send carriages -behind their locomotives as tall as ordinary houses. ‘Great goodness, -what’s that?’ said the major, when he first saw the steam-tram. ‘The -cathedral has escaped----no, it’s a row of houses got loose.’ It was -some time before we ventured on board one of these moving buildings. We -took an outside place, climbing up a ladder to what might correspond -to the tiles of an ordinary two-storied dwelling. One striking notice -was: “It is dangerous to sit on the rails.” We all laughed. We would -as soon think of sitting on the rails used by a Sydney tram as sitting -on the rails of an ordinary railroad. “Directors joking,” said Peter. -“Why, they mean these things,” said Dodd, pointing to some thin rails -corresponding to the tin water gutter on the edge of a roof. - -Another prominent notice seen in nearly all the Australian towns -is, “Walk over crossing.” This is usually pendent on a lamp-post. -“Walk over crossing,” said I to myself. “They want us to be killed, -I suppose. I shall run over crossings, if necessity requires it.” -Afterwards I learnt it was a notice to the drivers of chariots. - -As we went along we had splendid views into bedrooms, bath-rooms, -store-rooms, top garrets, and generally the upper quarters of the -houses which lined a street. Now and then a hand would suddenly snap -down a blind. This was probably some lady who objected to our seeing -her doing up her hair. Another kind of fun was to watch the private -horses jump. They don’t understand a row of houses tearing along the -street. Coming back, Peter made the major a bet that we should see at -least ten horses not educated up to steam-trams. Peter won. If I lived -in Sydney I should take a season ticket on the steam-trams. Perhaps I -might hire a tram of my own. - -Coogee was lovely. In fact, all the country round about Sydney seems -to be lovely. Hill and dale in all directions. A lot of the ground is -sandy. It is covered with bushes and tufts of grass, and in general -appearance is like moorland. On our way out we first saw a big thing -like Cleopatra’s Needle put up in honour of George Thornton, a former -Mayor of Sydney. There are plenty of needles, statues and arrangements -to commemorate great people about Sydney. Those who wish to have -a chance of earthly immortality, let them try to live and die in -Sydney,--only don’t let the candidates for effigies, and other eulogies -in stone, be too numerous. Next we saw the University. We paid a visit -to this place, and were shown a remarkably fine hall--perhaps the best -hall out of Oxford. I am of course talking about halls belonging to -English folks. Then there was a book, “My Journal in the Highlands,” -bound in blue, and put on a monument under a glass case. How many -of these works our gracious Majesty has been pleased to present to -institutions and people in the Colonies I cannot say. I should guess a -good-sized ship-load. - -After this there was the race-course and the Zoo. At the Zoo we saw the -usual elephant busily engaged in carrying round a load of children. -There were also some very tame kangaroos. A great feature in Sydney, -as in other Australian towns, are the cabs and carriages. In Sydney -they are hansoms--in Melbourne they are cumbersome things like covered -waggonettes. The most peculiar point connected with these conveyances -is the system on which you are expected to pay for them. It took me a -long time to discover what the system was, and it is more than likely -that what I discovered only applies to visitors. After trying a number -of chariots in various parts of the Colonies, it appears to me that -if you pay one shilling for the first quarter of an hour, you pay -two shillings for the second quarter, four shillings for the third -quarter, and so on at a geometrically increasing rate. If you were to -engage a cab for four hours your bill ought, at the above rate, to -be £1,766 18s. 0d. I was, however, informed on good authority, that, -with a little persuasion, the drivers might compromise with you for -about ten bob. If a man took a cab for the whole day, say of twelve -hours his bill would reach in round numbers the magnificent sum of -one hundred and forty millions of millions of pounds, or in figures -£140,000,000,000,000! A distinguished calculator was employed to make -this estimate, and it may be relied on. I have omitted a few trillions -of pounds some odd shillings and pence in this account, as too much -detail leads to confusion. Is not this a revenue towards which the -Government of New South Wales ought to direct its attention? They -require a loan, why not ask the cabmen? It is true that not many men -survive such an account. The man who had engaged the luxury of a cab -for a day, was, I heard, serving his time in the debtor’s gaol, and as -it would be some time before he had picked sufficient oakum to pay his -score, I was unable to make the acquaintance of this colossal bankrupt. - -It was Saturday when I went to Coogee. In the afternoon the preparation -for Sunday commenced. Many shops were closed, verandas and doorsteps -were washed, and door-handles polished. But for a theatre, where I -sought refuge from the religious atmosphere which was closing over -Sydney, I should have been extremely dull. There are two or three -theatres in Sydney, all of which are well patronized. At a theatre -where Boucicault was performing, it was necessary to buy a ticket -several days ahead. I think I should have started for Melbourne on -Saturday, had I not been told that before the train had come to the -end of its journey it would be Sunday. As soon as it is Sunday the -train stops, and as it might stop in the Bush, and I was nervous about -bushrangers, I thought it better to remain in Sydney. - -Of course everything is closed on the Sabbath. Should you ramble in the -country, and there, wearied with walking and the sun’s rays, lie down -exhausted on some mossy bank, still feeling that you might open your -eyes to the light of another day, could you obtain one small glass of -beer, do you think you would get it? Experience says No. If you were to -use strong language at this state of affairs, or at any other state -of affairs, do you think that a bobby would not run you into chokee? -The newspapers say they would. Neither liking to risk a horrible death -from thirst, nor the chance of offending the ears of some justice of -the peace, I stayed at home on Sunday. For about an hour I listened to -the jangling of some forty church bells. The enterprising proprietor of -one church made his bells play a hymn tune. These were the sounds from -outside. Inside I was edified by the jargon of forty semi-educated poll -parrots. Each of these birds knew a sentence of English. One of them -would fire off his particular string of words, when all his companions -would guffaw and yell. They began at about three in the morning, waking -me up with an impression that murder was being committed. I should have -liked to have killed them. I felt miserable. The place seemed to be a -mixture of piety, poll parrots, teetotalism, and bad grub. - -In the afternoon I met a doctor who was acquainted with Sydney. He -said he would show us some fun. Better go out to Botany Bay, and see -Sir Joseph Banks’s Garden. The suggestion was hailed with joy, and -after lunch, Peter, Dodd, and I were all safely seated on the roof of -a tramcar on our way to Botany Bay. Going to Botany Bay! What room for -reflection--at least that is what those in Britain think. Botany Bay -is looked upon as a home appointed by our Government for murderers -and vagabonds. They think wrongly. Botany Bay is a rural spot which -has been much maligned. It was about nine miles’ ride. On the way we -passed lots of little villas, all with gorgeous cast-iron balconies, -and elaborate fringes of the same material round their eaves. It -is seldom that one sees so much ornamentation in iron. Some of the -designs were made up of so many twists and turns that they looked like -lace. Such elaborate decorations were symphonies in metal; to me they -were like the English geometrical gardens, the result of mechanical -education. I do not like the poetry of foundries. - -A very noticeable building in Sydney, which strikes attention partly -on account of its magnitude and partly on account of the magnitude of -its name, is a steam laundry. Notwithstanding the existence of this -palatial wash-house, you pay six shillings a dozen for your washing. - -At Botany Bay, we found a huge pavilion in an enclosure of trees and -grass called a garden. The building, which would hold an audience of -several thousands, was used for skating, dancing, and singing secular -songs, on Sunday. At one end there was a stage, and artistes were -singing. We sat down and listened. The songs we heard were “The Little -Hero,” “Hark the Lark,” etc. The audience were remarkably quiet and -well-behaved. Round the sides of the hall there were regulations and -rules about skating and dancing. It was requested that “Gentlemen would -not dance with gentlemen, nor ladies with ladies,” etc. - -Many of the ladies were conspicuous from the variety and brilliancy of -their colours. I refer to the colours of their dresses. May not this -have been an example of unconscious imitation? There is a tendency in -the animal kingdom to adopt the colour of its surroundings--Polar -bears are white, insects on sand often have a sandy colour, many that -live in trees imitate the colour of the branches or the leaves. Perhaps -those who live in Australia have a tendency to imitate the gorgeous -plumage of its parrots. - -On the return journey, our engine had to drag three carriages, each -containing about eighty people. The seats were occupied, the sitters’ -knees were occupied, and the space between the knees of those who sat -upon the sitters was used for standing. One man was very talkative, or, -in plainer English, he was very drunk. This reminds me that at Botany -Bay the hotel refused to sell refreshments. - -It was, however, an easy matter to become a member of a club. In half -an hour, or even less, you could pay your entrance fee and be elected. -Being a member of the club you could then revive yourself and your -exhausted acquaintances as often as you pleased. The arrangement was -charming. It reminded me of Kimberly in South Africa, where, after -the Government had put restrictions on ordinary hotels, hundreds of -clubs sprung into existence. I suppose our friend of the trains had -been to a club. After telling us, if we valued our constitution, to -follow his advice and never take a drink between drinks, he gave us a -most interesting lecture on his acquaintanceship with the interior of -prisons. He told us about the broad arrow on his back and the marks -upon his ankles. He invited us all to smash a window and join him. It -was only distinguished personages who were entertained at Government -expense. Amongst the lower classes, to refer to each other’s prison -experiences or ankle marks appeared to be a form of taunting which was -not uncommon. - -That night we had tea. On week-days, the hotel being of a class that -was supposed to set the fashion, we had dinner. - - - - -_THE ROYAL SOCIETY OF HULLOOMALOO._ - - -There are some very fine libraries in Australia, the one at Melbourne -probably being the best. Talking about books to a Mr. John Smith, with -whom I had once or twice the pleasure of dining at his residence in -Hulloomaloo, I learnt something about the formation of libraries that -may be interesting to record. Not seeing any books in Mr. Smith’s -rooms, I ventured to ask him what he did for reading materials. Did -he never give his mind a little relaxation? ‘Oh yes, I’ve got a -library--keep it in that cupboard,’ said Smith, pointing to something -looking like a sideboard. ‘The mental exercise it affords is sometimes -quite wonderful. Perhaps you would like to see it?’ And before I had -time to reply, Smith shouted out: ‘Eh, Janet, bring in a couple of -tumblers; the gentleman wants to consult my library.’ I won’t say -anything more about Mr. Smith’s collection of books, excepting that a -night’s study of them might possibly result in a headache. - -‘But come, Smith,’ said I, ‘now, honest injin, did you mean to say -you haven’t got a book in the house?’ ‘Well, I can’t say that I have. -Once I had a copy of the “Rise and Fall of the British Empire.” I used -to keep it tied with a string to a nail in the wall. But some soul -thirsting after literature absorbed it one evening. I’ve had a sickener -of books.’ Here Smith took a drink and shook his head as if the thought -of his past literary career was too serious for reference. ‘Did you -never hear of the Royal Society of Hulloomaloo and its library?’ he at -last inquired. ‘Got it all for nothing. Never paid a sixpence.’ - -‘That’s interesting,’ I remarked. ‘I should like to know how the -business was managed.’ - -‘Just take another look at _my_ literature,’ said Smith, passing the -bottle, ‘and I’ll tell you: - - * * * * * - -‘Hulloomaloo was just becoming a place, and some of the influential -residents thought it would be a good thing to have some books; but at -the meeting they held nobody could tell where the money was to come -from. All sorts of suggestions were made, but they were all objected -to on the score that they involved subscriptions, and subscriptions -nobody could afford. The more they talked the more they seemed to want -to read, but they could not stand subscriptions. This was humbug, you -know, for the people in Hulloomaloo were as rich then as they are now. -The idea of having a library was just on the point of being abandoned, -when up jumped a pale-faced little man, who was sitting near the door, -and explained to the meeting that if they constituted themselves into a -society, they might get books given to them for nothing. He told us his -name was Joshua Jenkins, and that he had acted as librarian at one of -the State libraries in America; but who he really was, beyond being a -new-comer there, nobody could tell. A society ought to be constituted -at once, and, if it were worked properly, he would guarantee that -within a year the library of Hulloomaloo would be the wonder and envy -of the Australian Colonies. The brilliancy of Jenkins’s proposition -took everyone by storm, and he was voted to the chair to organize -proceedings for the constitution of the new society. - -‘“It is proposed,” said Jenkins, “that this society be called the -Royal Society of Hulloomaloo. Does anyone object to that proposition? -Nobody objects--carried. Please make a note, Mr. Secretary.” Without -drawing breath he continued: “The members of the society shall consist -of ordinary members; honorary members, elected from the distinguished -_savants_ of the world; and co-operative members, consisting of -scientific bodies whom the committee shall decide to elect. Does -anybody object to that proposition? Nobody objects--carried.” - -‘And so he went firing off rules, and saying: “Does anybody object to -that proposition? Nobody objects--carried,” until he had fixed up a -constitution before anyone had thought of objecting. - -‘After this, he had a committee and a president elected, while he -himself was put into the position of secretary and librarian. To finish -up the meeting, he took down the names of all people in the room, and -collected five shillings a head. This made the audience into members. -After a few remarks, in which Jenkins complimented the residents -of Hulloomaloo on the magnificence of their surroundings, and the -unparalleled opportunities which Hulloomaloo offered for scientific -research, the meeting adjourned. The whole business of making the -Royal Society of Hulloomaloo, and collecting about £45, took, it was -estimated, thirty-five minutes. Jenkins had the £45, and the audience -had the honour of putting F.R.S. after their names. Of course they -omitted the H. - -‘As to the details of what happened during the next two years, nobody -seemed to be very well informed, but they know now though. - -‘First he began by making honorary and corporation members. He had a -lot of elaborate forms and envelopes printed, looking as if they had -come from Government quarters. Whenever the word Hulloomaloo appeared, -it looked as if it was the capital of Australia. The letters he had for -the _savants_ ran as follows: - - - ‘“The Royal Society of Hulloomaloo. - - ‘“Dear Sir, - - ‘“I have the honour of informing you that in consequence of - your distinguished services in the department of” (and here - came the particular ology of the man to whom he wrote) “the - Committee of the Royal Society of Hulloomaloo have this day - elected you an honorary member of their body. - - ‘“I have the honour to remain, Sir, - ‘“Your obedient servant, - ‘“Joshua Jenkins, Sec.” - -‘He always accompanied his form with a note. When he wrote to Darwin, -he said that the society had appointed several special committees; -one was to examine the working of worms, another to investigate the -fertilization of plants, a third to determine the exact relationship -between the higher mammals and the Australian savages. The results of -this work he hoped in the course of the year to have the pleasure of -forwarding to his address. In the meanwhile, he was certain that if -Mr. Darwin would send to the society a complete set of his works, they -would be bound in morocco and highly appreciated. - -‘He promised Lubbock a collection of ants. Richard Owen was to -have a complete collection of fossil mammals. Spencer was to have -an exhaustive series of manuscripts on the social status of the -Aborigines. The result of all this was that in about three months we -had the names of almost every living _savant_ in the universe on our -list, and what was better, we had their books in our library. - -‘The way he got over the societies after making them into co-operative -members was to promise them a complete set of the “Hulloomaloo -Transactions.” He had letters printed for the kind of society to which -he was writing. Here is an example of letters he sent to all the -Geological Societies in the world,’ said Smith, handing me a document -off the mantelpiece. It ran thus: - - ‘43. (71-1034). - - XIX. ‘Department of the Interior of Australia, - ‘The Royal Society of Hulloomaloo. - - ‘Sydney, _June 1st, 1881_. - - ‘Sir, - - ‘I have the honour to send to your address a complete set - of the Transactions of the Royal Society of Hulloomaloo, - “A Treatise on the Geology of Australia,” with an Atlas of - Geological Maps. - - ‘As these volumes are sent through the Imperial Government, - they may not reach you for some time after the reception of - this letter. Please observe the enclosed receipt. By order of - the Committee, - - ‘I have the honour to remain, Sir, - - ‘Your most obedient servant, - - (42451-67904) ‘Joshua Jenkins, Sec.’ - -The enclosed receipt ran as follows: - - ‘72. CXIX. (764-31) 41-MDCVXI. - - ‘(_Neglect to return this receipt will be taken as an - intimation that the Transactions of the Royal Society of - Hulloomaloo are no longer desired._) - - Date ______________ 188_. - - ‘To the President of the Royal Geological Society of - Hulloomaloo, Sydney. - - ‘Sir, - - ‘I beg to acknowledge the receipt of the under-mentioned works. - - ____________________ - ____________________ - - Yours truly, - - Name____________________ - - Present address____________________ - - Past address____________________ - - Future address____________________ - - Permanent address____________________ - - Variable address____________________ - - City, Town, Village, Hemisphere, etc. - - (7623-731) (854-901)’ - - - - -‘To wind up, there was a beautifully printed envelope in which -to return the receipt. This was addressed to the Royal Society, -Hulloomaloo, Sydney. - -‘Sometimes he would call the society the Royal Astronomical Society of -Hulloomaloo, next the Royal Linnæan Society of Hulloomaloo; then the -Royal Sociological Society of Hulloomaloo, just according to the people -to whom he was writing. - -‘The result of all this was that the society received box after box of -societies’ transactions in all the languages of the world. - -‘After a year or so, some of the people to whom Jenkins had made his -promises would write saying that they begged to inform him that the -books he had forwarded never arrived. Jenkins would answer, that he -regretted to hear that the parcel had been delayed, but he would -communicate with the Imperial Government on the subject, and a week or -two afterwards would send them another big envelope, saying that he had -the honour to send to their address another big parcel. The expectation -of sometime receiving something kept a lot of them quiet. To the few, -who were too impatient, he would write that he had been instructed by -the Imperial Government of Australia to inform them that the parcel to -which they referred had been transmitted to their Imperial Governments, -from whom, if they applied, they would undoubtedly receive the same. - -‘While all this was going on, the books and presents to the society -had so accumulated that the Royal Society of Hulloomaloo threatened -to become a national institution. A meeting was held, and when the -list of honorary members and societies was read, and the library he -had collected had been inspected, Jenkins received a vote of thanks, -and subsequently a purse containing 500 guineas. After this, he was -made into a permanent secretary of the society, with a salary of -£600 a year. At this time Jenkins said he would add a museum to the -establishment. By dubbing a lot of prominent mine-managers F.R.S., he -managed to get a wonderful collection of gold specimens together, and -these he increased by promising to send to various parts of the world -collections of Australian minerals, which, as he put it, the Royal -Society of Hulloomaloo had instructed him to forward to their address. - -‘By this time the letters that poured in upon Jenkins seemed to have -warned him that he was getting to the end of his tether. He said he was -sick, and would the Committee allow the library and museum to be closed -for a month. He thought a run down to Melbourne, where he would get -some of the society’s books rebound, might set him up. The petition was -granted, and away went Jenkins with twenty-six large cases containing -the books which were to be bound.’ - -‘And I suppose you never heard of him any more,’ I remarked. - -‘Never hear of him, indeed; we thought we were never going to cease -hearing about him. During the two months after his departure, the -letters and official documents that poured into the rooms of the Royal -Society of Hulloomaloo would have filled the museum by themselves. -There was Darwin writing for the reports of the committees, Lubbock was -asking for his ants, Spencer was crazy about the MSS. on the social -status of Aborigines, Owen wanted his collection of fossil mammals, -all the societies in Europe and America were wanting our Transactions. -Diamond merchants and jewellers were asking to have the collections -returned, that they had lent for exhibition at our last _soirée_. -Foreign Offices throughout the world had written to our Government, -inquiring about the status of the Royal Society of Hulloomaloo. Our -Government instituted proceedings against us for having swindled -creation.’ - -‘And what was the end of it all?’ I asked. - -‘Why, one end was that we had to write five or six thousand letters of -apology, to raise a fund to return the pamphlets and stuff that would -not go into Jenkins’s twenty-six cases, and pay £25,000 damages for -what had gone into them.’ - -‘And how about Mr. Joshua Jenkins?’ - -‘Oh, Literary Jos. Well, I don’t know, but I believe he is gone below, -acting librarian at one of the State libraries. If you want to get up -a cheap library in your part of the world, that is his address. He is -charming company, you know.’ - - * * * * * - -The streets of Sydney are above the average of streets we see in -Europe. I expected to have found them narrow and crooked. Sydney -is usually described as being old-fashioned, and having a cramped, -crooked, and antiquated appearance. It is not American-like and modern, -like Melbourne; Sydney is English. The streets might certainly be -broader, but in all conscience, although not absolutely straight, -they are straight enough. George Street, Pitt Street, and all the -connecting streets between the two parallel main arteries, are usually -overcrowded. The shops are good, and there are plenty of them. One -shop, where you find everything, from millinery to leather bags, is -extensive, and quite comparable with similar establishments in London. -Here we have a number of excellent banks, and a post-office, which -probably cannot find its equal in any other portion of the British -Empire. Its tower will be a beacon for wanderers in all parts of the -Colony. At the top of Pitt Street, there is a market filled with fruit, -canaries, cockatoos, wallaby, and other Australian productions. Beyond -this is the cathedral. Near here we have a waxwork show, where living -likenesses of distinguished bushrangers may be seen. Amongst the other -sights are the Museum, the Picture Gallery, where there is a large -series of very good pictures, the Botanical Gardens, the Domain, Hyde -Park, and the University. - -In going to these places you are continually met by pretty glimpses of -the harbour. Some of the smaller streets, however, are remarkable for -the antiquated appearance of the houses and cottages you see in them. - -Of course I fell in love when I was in Australia. It would not be -complimentary to the ladies if I had not. It happened at the theatre. -At the time a somewhat uninteresting farce was being played. This gave -me time to look round. She sat in a box with a typical duenna. Perhaps -she was sweet eighteen, perhaps she was lovely twenty. Her figure was -willowy and elegant. Somehow or other your inner conscience tells you -when you are in love, at least, mine does. My inner conscience, after -looking at this earthly angel for about half an hour, remarked--‘Young -man, you’re in love; your bachelorhood is being compromised.’ Then I -had a short conversation with my conscience. It ended by my being -convinced that my conscience was right, and that I was not simply in -love, but was standing in the slops of an overflowing infatuation. When -I looked at her, I thought she smiled. The duenna certainly frowned. -At last the curtain dropped, and the Major, Peter and Dodd and I were -hustled out upon the pavement. ‘Come on, old chappie. You’ll never -recognise her with a cloak on. To-morrow you may find out where the -charmer lives, and get an introduction to her parents.’ ‘I’ll help -you,’ said the Major. ‘I’ll help you,’ said P. ‘I’ll help you,’ said -D. Then they said, ‘We’ll all help you.’ Before I could thank them P. -had taken hold of one of my arms, D. had taken hold of the other, and -the Major was pushing behind. With their united assistance I quickly -reached the hotel. That night sleep deserted me. Was it not possible -that we might meet in the streets, in the park, in a ferry-boat, or on -the Rialto? Many have met on the Rialto. At daybreak I would inquire -for the Rialto. But again, many have met in crowds. Yes, in crowds, -that meant the crowded theatre perhaps. At night I would again visit -the theatre. During the day I would pace the Domain, the Park, and -all the intricacies of great Sydney’s thoroughfares. Who was she? The -box, the jewellery, the duenna indicated wealth. Perhaps a princess -in disguise? She would be reclining in a chariot drawn by snow-white -steeds. At last I dozed. - -Next morning I rose with Aurora, and tramped the streets. During the -day I flattened my nose against the windows of all the confectioners’ -and millinery establishments that adorn the leading thoroughfares. I -gazed into all the hansoms. I even raised my eyes at the damsels who -reclined in open carriages. Many fair ones smiled--but mine, where was -she? - -That night I was the first to enter the theatre. What anxious moments -passed as the dress-circle and the boxes filled! Suddenly P. nudged -me, and whispered, ‘See over there.’ Oh, heavens! there she was. It -was clear her bosom heaved with reciprocity, and had come to seek me -out. During the day she had probably been chasing round the streets of -Sydney behind my coat-tails. Why hadn’t I stood at a corner? I quickly -hired a pair of opera-glasses, and, gazing through them, brought her -nearer to me. She smiled. The duenna put on an expression of thunder, -and drew behind the curtain. Then she looked through her opera-glasses. -I looked through mine again. We were both near each other. I trembled -with nervous excitement; my glasses trembled. I think they visibly -waggled from side to side. She waggled hers. ‘Will you be best man, -Major?’ I whispered. Then I rushed off to the box-keeper. I told him it -was close and hot. ‘Yes, sir, it’s more than that; it’s dry, fearfully -dry.’ I was quickly his bosom friend. ‘Who’s she--the gazelle in the -second box?’ I asked. ‘’Um, what, her over there?’ said he, putting -down his glass. ‘She’s the manager’s wife; sits up there every night.’ - -The Major, Peter and Dodd left for Melbourne next morning. I left with -them. - -The journey to Melbourne was not nice. We left at five p.m., and -reached Spencer Street Station in Melbourne about noon next day. I took -passage in a Pullman car. A genuine Yank sat near me, and we entered -into conversation. I like Yanks, and if I were eligible I might put up -to become a faithful citizen. After the ordinary preliminaries about -the weather and the autumnal tints, he made some general remarks about -the late President Grant. - -‘As a general, Grant just whipped creation,’ I remarked. - -‘Dair bet my bottom dollar his name shines like a brilliant -constellation in the military history of this planet until it ceases to -rotate. Saw him some years ago. Was smoking a big havana. His wife was -along. Don’t think she hansoms worth a cent. Good woman though! The way -she looked after her family was just remarkable. If every fellow got a -wife like that, there’d be less hair flying around. You from Boston?’ -he inquired. - -‘Sir,’ I replied, ‘you have paid me a compliment never to be forgotten.’ - -At the next depôt my friend invited me to see the refreshment-room. - -The little bit of country that was visible before sundown was so like -the rest of the great continental island, that I will not attempt to -describe it. - -Somewhere about eight o’clock a conductor commenced the removal of the -arm-chairs in which we had been sitting, and the erection of the berths -in which we were to sleep. During this operation, which lasted one hour -and a half (it sometimes lasts two hours), if you are lucky, you get -one of the four or six seats in the smoking-room, otherwise you have to -stand in a narrow passage. I had to stand. - -The arrangement of rods and bars which were put together in building -the berths had the complexity of a Chinese puzzle. If the railway -company ever lose the services of the unfortunate man whose misery -it is to erect these structures, where they will discover a second -individual with a sufficiently retentive memory, and ingenuity to carry -on the work, it is difficult to conceive. Whilst the operation is going -on, the car jerks and swings like a boat upon a choppy sea. Several of -the passengers complained of sea-sickness, and I myself certainly had a -feeling of nausea. The only advice I can give to the directors of that -line is to take their cars and burn them--at least, burn the particular -one in which I had the misery to ride. From friends who followed me to -Melbourne, I heard that there were several other cars which ought also -to be burned. - -At about five a.m. we were turned out at a place called Aubury, -where we changed carriages and passed the Customs on the Victorian -border. All the colonies collect duty from each other, and their -mother country. New South Wales alone admires the policy of its _alma -mater_, and adopts free trade. Not only are they at variance in their -commercial regulations, but there exists between them the same feelings -of jealousy that may be found between different nationalities, and -each ‘colonial’ looks upon his own particular colony as superior to -its neighbour. One question which you are often asked is, ‘Do you like -Sydney or Melbourne best?’ Several Victorians spoke of their Melbourne -and its people as being go ahead and smart--quite American you know. -They refer to being American with an intonation of regret--it is sad -and disgraceful to be like Americans; but, as it is true, we must -confess it, and it cannot be helped. Now as Victorians were so fond of -pointing out this particular character of themselves, I imagine that -they are really rather proud of it, and the intonation of regret is -little more than a form of modesty. - -So far as I could see, farther than the fact that our Australian -cousins have displayed energy in building up great cities in a short -period of years, I did not observe a single instance of anything -which was American. Australians seem to be intensely conservative -and British. One characteristic of Americans is, to do things in new -ways and invent. When in the Colonies I looked in all directions for -something that was novel, but I must confess that I failed to find -it. Perhaps using single tickets, which after the termination of a -journey, on being snipped, act as return tickets, may be peculiarly -Australian. The hoods to hansoms may be new. Asbestos gas-fires in -hotels, the dispensing with conductors on the ’buses, and a few other -rarities in English life, are common in America. Possibly in farming -and stock-raising operations, Australians may have discovered methods -of procedure unknown in other lands. In their mining operations--and I -visited many mining districts--I cannot say that I saw much that was -new. I certainly saw much that was old, and machines that ought to be -relegated to museums were numerous. - -In the morning it was cold enough for ulsters and opossum rugs to -be acceptable. I saw a hilly country, lots of gum trees, some post -and rail fences, one or two vineyards, and a few sheep and cattle. -Australia is a capital place to study gum trees. The first of these -trees were introduced to the country, so a fellow-passenger informed -me, as seeds, in a letter, sent by an affectionate Scotch wife to her -brother--it would remind him of his home at Greenock. I fancy that my -informant had confused Scotch thistles and gum trees. - -No wonder the aborigines of Australia were a poor lot. They have no -scenery to stimulate their imagination, to create wonder, and to excite -an inventive faculty. If we except a few hills upon the east coast, all -is flat. Australia is like a pancake, turned up on one side and hollow -in the middle. Rivers are usually represented by strings of stagnant -pools. Some of them flow underground. - -At last Melbourne hove in sight. It seemed to be below us. Its -appearance was like that of all large towns when viewed from a -distance--a confused mass of buildings, with here and there a spire, -covered with a canopy of bluish gauze-like smoke. Near the centre a -huge dun cupola formed a nucleus for the whole. It was large, very -large. When we remembered that all before us had risen during forty -years, we could not refrain from joining in the admiration of all -Australians for their mighty and marvellous Melbourne. - - -A Wonderful Bath. - -The first introduction that my friends gave me was to their clubs. -If we except Botany Bay, nearly all Colonial clubs are exceedingly -particular. A guest, until he is elected an honorary member, cannot -pass beyond a guest-room, which is almost on the threshold. Even here -he is not supposed to linger. At one club, the internal arrangements -of which were quite palatial, I saw a bath which would excite the -wonder of a Barnum. It ought to be exhibited. The performances that -this wonderful piece of machinery could go through were perfectly -astounding. If I were rich, I would have a bath of that description -for the amusement of my friends. It was situated in a little room -provided with sliding doors in the walls, and electric bells. Visitors -were told that these doors were for attendants to pass in towels and -cups of coffee. I heard privately that they were really for attendants -to see that the bath did not get loose and damage strangers who were -unacquainted with its mechanism. When I first saw this marvellous piece -of mechanism, I thought it was a new form of organ, and that all the -labelled handles were the stops. The music it played was, however, -different from that of an ordinary organ. Pull one handle and you might -be boiled. Pull another, and you might be annihilated with jets of -water, which would simultaneously hit you in all directions, pounding -you to pieces like a fragment of quartz beneath a battery. Pull a -third handle, and you would be frizzled to a cinder with hot air. To -avoid accidents, there were innumerable notices pasted on walls and -on handles of the various taps. I only remember a few of them. One -said ‘Be careful and see that the arrow points to the left.’ Another -ran, ‘Three turns to the right will give you the douche.’ This was -a thing that flattened you out on the bottom of the bath. A sort of -aqueous thunderbolt. ‘Mind and turn off number three before entering -the bath.’ ‘See that hot is off before turning right hand number two.’ -‘Turn on the aquatic gymnasium gently.’ This notice, applied to an -innocent-looking silver knob, which, when moved, set free a jet of -water, which carried the bather up towards the ceiling. Many visitors -had been found clawing and reaching and swearing on the top of this -jet, where they were being revolved, and tumbled about like a pithball -on the fountains which some fishmongers exhibit. Two hours of this -was said to be capital exercise for the muscles and lungs. There were -a whole lot of other notices, but I forget them. A portion of the -apparatus was like an ordinary bath; at the end of it, however, there -was a thing like a second bath reared on end. The resemblance of this -to a sarcophagus was quite appropriate. It was painted blue, and had -aureoles and stars as decorations for its dome-like roof. Standing -in this you might pose as a saint, or as one of the images so common -in the niches of large cathedrals. This was also appropriate, for, -after having met your death, you might remain standing as a martyr to -cleanliness, and as a warning to future bathers. - -I got my companion, who described the above, to turn on some of the -fireworks while I looked through one of the holes for cups of coffee. -First there was a hiss, as of escaping steam, then the sullen roar of -a fall like great Niagara. Sometimes it was hot, at other times it was -cold. Oh, conflagrations and volcanoes, where would you be beneath -jets like this? Now and then I could catch a view of my companion -through the clouds of spray and steam. At one moment he was like a -deity surrounded by rainbows. At another moment he was like an imp of -darkness working the machinery of the infernal regions. The thunder -of the douche was appalling. I shrieked to him to retire. The roaring -of the waters prevented his hearing my warning cries. Suddenly the -deluge ceased. He had turned another tap and produced a gentle spray, -like that which waters budding plants in spring. The exhibition was -marvellous, and it made me change my opinion about Australians being -non-inventive. My friend asked me, when all was over, to have a bath. -I felt the satire, and did not answer. The volcanic energy pent up -behind the silver taps of that establishment have produced too deep -an impression ever to be forgotten. To have a bath which will wash -your friends, stretch your muscles, give flexibility and tone to -your larynx, extinguish volcanoes, put out fires, kill your enemies, -create a nervous excitement sufficient to turn black hairs grey, alarm -intruders, amuse the children, flood the streets, is a luxury denied to -all but Victorians. - -‘The Russians will never capture this establishment. The bath would -kill them,’ I remarked. - -‘They don’t wash,’ replied my friend. - -I had forgotten that. - -Now do not let it be supposed I have referred to this bath without an -object. I and the maker have a contract, and when he has sold a lot of -them, we are going to buy a castle apiece. I think the Rhine is a good -situation. - - * * * * * - -The great street in Melbourne is Collins Street. Another great street -running parallel to Collins Street is Bourke Street. The latter is like -the Strand in London. The former is like Regent Street. The streets -and their footpaths are wide, and the people in consequence do not -appear to be so numerous as in Sydney. Still, until about six p.m., -when all the shutters snap to like a lot of clam shells that had been -alarmed, there are people enough. - -It is a great treat for anyone fond of seeing nice people and nice -shops to do ‘the block.’ I spent very much time doing ‘the block.’ In -fact I think I could pass a very good examination as to the contents -of the various shops in the leading thoroughfares of Melbourne. There -are also a number of interesting arcades. One shop which I remember -was a monster book shop. It seemed customary to go into this shop, -and loll against any of its hundred stalls, and read. Having turned -down the page, you can come back and finish the story next day. In -Collins Street I was particularly struck with the uniformed satellites, -whose duty it was to parade in front of the large shops, and assist -ladies to alight from their carriages. In neatness they were only -equalled by the cockaded, brilliantly buttoned gentlemen who drove the -carriages. Throughout the colony I observed that many of the younger -ladies cropped their hair like boys, and wore tippets. Sad green was a -favourite colour for dresses. Talking of girls, one thing which annoyed -me was to see nice-looking, stylishly-dressed, gazelle-like creatures, -who looked as if they would hardly condescend to nod at a duke, talking -and walking with ill-dressed young larrikins. You see this all over the -colonies. - -Among the public buildings that I visited were the Law Courts, with -their numerous and elaborate courts of justice, several colonial -Banking Palaces, and the Public Library, which probably has one of -the finest collections of books in the East. Attached to this there is -a picture gallery, and a technological museum filled with models of -great nuggets, models of mining machinery, and machinery used in other -industries, and other interesting objects too many for enumeration. I -did not see an Egyptian mummy. I trust that the reverence for antiquity -has an existence in Australia, and that some mummies will be ordered. -At one end of Collins Street I admired the statues of Burke and Wills, -the great explorers, and also the massive public buildings which block -the end of the street. I saw the University, and its Museum of Natural -History. The animals were very tightly packed, and if the accumulation -continues it will shortly become necessary to climb in and out between -the ribs of whales and other monsters before you can see the place. -One whale has already been compelled to take an outside place in the -garden. The decorations, which consist of illuminated scrolls, have -a remarkable similarity to the decorations one sees in churches. -Instead of the Ten Commandments, on close inspection, you find that the -illuminated legends refer to the orders of animals and plants. There -is also a very fine hall to be seen at the University. It is as yet -wanting in internal decoration. - -On the other side of Melbourne, the Observatory, which has one of the -largest telescopes in the world, was pointed out to me. Near to this -I saw some exceedingly pretty botanical gardens. Overlooking these is -Government House. It is very large, and more imposing than Buckingham -Palace. Its tower, which has a flagstaff on top, corresponds to what -the tower of the Post Office in Sydney is to be--a landmark for all -who lose their way. Altogether there is much to be seen in and about -Melbourne. There are innumerable parks, racecourses, cricket grounds, -zoological gardens, manufactories, theatres, and other places of -amusement which I had no time to visit. While in Melbourne I made -many journeys on the suburban lines. I have already described the -smoking-carriages on these lines. The ordinary first-class carriages -were on a par with the ordinary second-class car we have in England. -If the directors of these lines wish to be economical, why do they not -simply have one type of carriage? A common wooden-seated third-class -vehicle; place a mat on the seat and it becomes second-class; and, with -an additional mat for the back, it becomes first-class. Let the mats be -in little squares, so that each passenger can hire one, as he passes -from the ticket-office. - -Before saying good-bye to marvellous Melbourne, just a word about its -river, which is quite as marvellous as the city on its banks. In its -upper courses the Yarra, with its weeping willows, is a pretty stream. -It is clear, sluggish, and sinuous, still it is anything but ugly. In -its lower courses, where it winds across the flat marshy ground which -divides Melbourne from the sea, it ought hardly to be called a river. -Other rivers might object. It is as sinuous as a snake in spasms. Its -banks are of mud, and its stagnant waters a mixture of sludge and -filth. As you sail down it, almost touching either bank, at one time -you appear to be going towards Melbourne, and at another time to be -going away from it. Then the smells. The variety of these is as great -as at Cologne, but by no means so pleasant. At one moment up goes your -handkerchief for a tallow-boiling establishment, at the next moment -you are knocked over by a soap factory. The worst smell of all is the -Yarra itself. This you get at shallow corners, and when you ground on -mud-banks. O smell of smells! Products of decomposition, sulphuretted -and arseniuretted hydrogen, carbon disulphide, and all the odours of -the chemist! what are ye to this? Still you have your use. Pilots with -good noses can steer by you on the darkest night. - -The Liffey makes good Dublin stout. Surely there is something in the -semi-solid waters of the Yarra! Try it for porter, and if it does not -do for that, try it for hair oil; if it fails for both of these, it -will certainly make a good emetic. - -The only other places that I honoured in Victoria were Sandhurst and -Ballarat. I went to these two places rather than to others because they -were classical places in the history of Australian mining; in fact, -but for these places, Victoria might never have been invented. The -travelling was done by rail. It is a common thing for distinguished -visitors in the colonies to be provided with free passes. As the -directors of the various colonial lines did not know that I was a -distinguished visitor, I had to travel at my own expense. Almost -every carriage that I travelled in contained a deadhead. The ticket -collector would come, and the two or three deadheads would show -a mysterious little card, a bit of paper, or a medal. One lot of -deadheads I travelled with turned out to be honourable members of the -House of Assembly. From their appearance and speech I should hardly -have suspected their vocation. They seem to be well acquainted with -people on the line, from whom I learnt that the name of one of the -honourable members was ‘Jim.’ The custom of addressing Parliamentary -potentates by an abbreviated surname was, I was told, in imitation of -the farm-labourers near Hawarden, who speak of a distinguished member -of the British House of Assembly as Bill. I should like to describe the -various members of colonial legislative assemblies with whom I had the -honour to converse, but I am afraid. If you are not careful you may -become notorious as a defendant in a suit for libel. While I was in -Australia, the editor of _Punch_ was acting as a defendant in a case -brought against him by a Government official. ‘Better stand official -outside a post-office with his tongue out--he will do for people to wet -stamps on,’ suggested a wag. _Punch_ had cartooned a gentleman in this -position, and thus the row. I think _Punch_ was very wrong. - -I travelled up to Sandhurst in the dark. During the latter part of the -journey up to Sandhurst I was entertained by a rough-looking gentleman, -with whom I had entered into conversation, who told me much about his -early experiences when he first came out to Victoria. He seemed to have -tried his hand at everything, from sheep to literature. One of his -literary experiences ran pretty much as follows: - - -A Circular Story. - -‘It was in the early days of Victorian history, when I found myself -in Sandhurst and short of money. A friend in Melbourne had given me -an introduction to Mr. J. G. Boosey, proprietor and editor of the -_Bendigo Scientific Advertiser and General News Agent_. To make my -introduction agreeable to Mr. Boosey, and at the same time pecuniarily -advantageous to myself, I penned a short article on the garden-snail, -which had recently been imported from Europe, and was creating ravages -of no inconsiderable extent in many of the gardens. This I put in my -pocket, when I proceeded to Mr. Boosey’s office. - -‘Mr. Boosey was exceedingly agreeable, and after inquiring about his -friends in Melbourne, asked me to read the article I had brought. After -giving a few preliminary coughs I began: - - -‘SLUGS. - -‘“Slugs eat cabbage. They forage at night. In the morning they creep -home. They are afraid of gardeners. Gardeners hate slugs because they -eat the things in the garden. To catch slugs you must get up early. The -captives may be thrown into a neighbouring garden. This annoys the man -next door. The slug is a very quiet animal. Its length is sometimes -three inches. When it is alarmed it is only about half an inch long. -Many slugs have shells. The horns upon their heads are weapons. Slugs -travel very slowly. Once a slug had a race with a hare. The slug won. -Snails are the same as slugs. Once a slug fought with some tailors. The -tailors ran away. They were afraid of the snail’s horns. Snails are -succulent. They make good soup.” - -‘“’Twon’t do, ’twon’t do,” said the editor. “’Tain’t my style a bit. -If you want me to insert your articles in the _Bendigo Scientific -Advertiser and General News Agent_, guess you’ll have to be terse. Say -things to the point, and not go wandering along with a regimental -procession of high-falutin, chuckle-headed sentences like what you’ve -stuck down on that paper. Now look at this,” and he held out the papers -I had brought for his approval at arm’s length. “Just look at this! -call this an article on slugs! Why, there ain’t enough in it to make -a decent epitaph for a bumble-bee.” Then he begun to read, “‘Slugs -eat cabbage.’ Um, ‘They forage at night.’ Um, ‘In the morning they -creep home.’ Um, ‘They are afraid of gardeners.’ Um, your ideas ain’t -continuous or elastic. In those four sentences, if they were decently -handled, there is enough to last the _Bendigo Advertiser_ for a week. -You oughtn’t to call a slug a slug. Call him a univalvular molluscous -gasteropod. Describe him in the early dawn cautiously returning from -a predatory excursion upon a cabbage-garden. Picture the thrifty -gardener, with a patch of sunlight illuminating his honest face, the -glory of the early morning, the refulgence of the rising luminary -reflected from the riplets of a neighbouring fish-pond, and all that -sort of thing. Just keep on saying the same thing over and over again -without using exactly the same words. Circulate round and round a bit -with ordinary phrases, and people will catch the hang of your meaning -better than if you go dashing along, plumping fact after fact down -their throats as if you wanted to choke ’em with literature. But above -all things be terse, concise, and to the point.” - -‘How I was to be terse and concise, and yet to keep on circling round -and round, saying the same thing over and over again, but with varied -phraseology, was a problem. I thanked the editor for his kindness, -and proceeded towards my lodgings with my head filled with ideas of -a univalvular molluscous gasteropod, a thrifty gardener, a rising -luminary and a fish-pond. I had hard work that evening, but I succeeded -in constructing a circular story about a univalvular molluscous -gasteropod better than I had anticipated. Next morning when I entered -the office, Boosey, who was sitting in his editorial chair, said: -“Well--_hic_--so you think you have succeeded. Just let me hear what -you have written--_hic_. Feel sleepy this morning.” It was clear that -Mr. Boosey was slightly inebriated, and knowing that it would be bad -policy to aggravate an inebriated man, I at once pulled my paper from -my pocket, and began as follows: - -‘“The title is ‘The Univalvular Molluscous Gasteropod; or, The New -Colonial Pest.’” - -‘“Excellent,” hiccuped Boosey, “mush better than calling it a snail. -It’s a univalvular molluscous gasteropod, just as I told you. Your -language is really very beautiful--_hic_.” - -‘Then I started, Mr. Boosey dreamily looking at me and nodding his head. - -‘“As a toil-worn univalvular molluscous gasteropod wearily sped -towards its home at early dawn, skirting the western side of a broad -and verdant cabbage-patch, picking its way by the uncertain but -continually increasing light penetrating the cloud-beflecked sky, -till it at last saw in the orient the uprising luminary which might -disclose its presence to the cautious and thrifty gardener, who had -risen early, with a patch of sunlight on his honest face, it watched -the steadily glowing disc and the wide-extended sheaves and pencils, -resplendent with golden light, silvering, gilding, and, it might be -added, magnificently tinting every snowy pile of gauze-like vapour, -etherealizing all the low-lying mist that hid the bosom of the mother -earth, and at length perceived across the yet deserted garden the -rippling waves of a distant fish-pond, stirred by the first gentle -breeze of the early dawn, and the flashing of a broad band of glory, -each ripplet on the distant shore catching up and robbing its neighbour -of the wonderful illumination, each with its handful of beautiful light -passing its transient acquirement to the nearest swell, and in turn -catching new beauty from the passing beams of the god of day, when the -eyes are dazed by the passing sheen, and all the scene is surcharged -with light until glory covered the weary one.” - -‘At this point I had come to the end of my manuscript, and I looked -towards Boosey, who was nodding his head towards the desk. When I -said “glory covered the weary one,” he looked up, gave a hiccup, and -asked if that was all. A diabolical idea came into my head. As Boosey -was evidently muddled with what I had read, I would follow his advice -and make my story circulate. Oh no, Mr. Boosey; it continues right -straight along: “the weary one being a toil-worn univalvular molluscous -gasteropod that wearily sped towards its home at early dawn, skirting -the western side of a broad and verdant cabbage-patch, picking his way -by the uncertain but continually increasing light, which penetrated the -cloud-beflecked sky, till it at last saw in the orient the uprising -luminary which might disclose its presence to the cautious and thrifty -gardener, who had risen early, with a patch of sunlight on his honest -face, it watched the steadily glowing disc and the wide-extended -sheaves and pencils, resplendent with golden light, silvering, gilding, -and, it might be added, magnificently tinting every snowy pile of -gauze-like vapour, etherealizing all the low-lying mist that hid the -bosom of the mother earth, and at length perceived across the yet -deserted garden the rippling waves of a distant fish-pond, stirred by -the first gentle breeze of the early dawn, the flashing of a broad band -of glory, each ripplet on the distant shore catching up and robbing -its neighbour of the wonderful illumination, each with its handful of -beautiful light passing its transient acquirement to the nearest swell, -and in turn catching new beauty from the passing beams of the god of -day, when the eyes are dazed by the passing sheen, and all the scene is -surcharged with light until glory covered the weary one.” - -‘“Shplendid,--_hic_,--shplendid,” yawned Boosey. “Just stop there, -and say, ‘To be continued in our next.’ Can give you ten dollars -for six similar articles. When you talked about slugs eating -cabbage--_hic_--forage at night--_hic_,--afraid of the gardener, and -the rest of it, I was doubtful about your--_hic_--style. Terseness is -the art of journalism. There is a terseness about what you have just -read--_hic_--which will certainly please the readers of our columns.” - -‘How it was that old Boosey had not noticed that I had reiterated -several of my statements in connection with the univalvular molluscous -gasteropod can only be attributed to amiability. That night I -sent in some clean copy, and my article appeared; but as I was a -stranger in Sandhurst I was unable to learn anything respecting the -general impression it had produced. Next day I went to the office, -where I found Mr. Boosey in a worse state than he had been in on -the previous day. All he could do was to giggle inanely, and say, -“Shplendid--univalv--_hic_--ular gasteropod indeed! funny dog--take -a drink, old man. Make you sub-editor next week.” Then inquiringly, -“S’pose you’ve got some more about that gash’opod, eh?” It was clear -that my chance was open, and I did not lose it. That night the readers -of the _Bendigo Advertiser_ had the continuation of the story. It -began: “As a toil-worn univalvular molluscous gasteropod wearily sped,” -etc. In the evening I heard one or two of the guests at the hotel -saying that old Boosey was mad. Snails in the colonies were bad enough, -but his articles were worse. - -‘Times were too bad for one to think what people thought of Boosey, -and so long as he remained amiable, I determined to go ahead, sending -the same old story about the univalvular molluscous gasteropod. On the -evening of the fifth day Boosey sent me a cheque for ten pounds, with -compliments and thanks for my interesting communications. His note -indicated that he was sober, and I felt alarmed. - -‘The morning after this I heard that a little boy had put his head -inside Boosey’s office, and called the old man a univalvular molluscous -gasteropod. This little incident was followed by an article in _The -Morning Chronicle_, headed, “A Circular Story; or, A New Colonial -Pest,” which tried to prove that Boosey was either mad or perpetually -intoxicated. I saw a crash was coming, and that evening took a train to -Melbourne. A few days afterwards I received a note from Boosey. It ran -as follows: - - ‘“Dear Sir, - - ‘“I have read my back issues, and I trust you will not feel - annoyed if your children should suddenly become orphans. - - ‘“Yours truly, - - ‘“J. G. Boosey.” - - ‘I never replied.’ - -Next morning was Sunday. After presenting letters of introduction to -one or two influential residents, I and Dodd strolled about the town. -The streets are wide, with here and there a number of good shops. ‘The -Mechanics,’ which includes a school of mines, is a fine building. -‘The Mechanics,’ the chief feature in which is a reading-room, is an -institution to be found in most colonial towns. - -The chief street in Sandhurst is called Pall Mall. Right in the middle -of it there are the poppet-heads of a gold mine. When coal has been -discovered under London, there may possibly be a coal mine in the -original Pall Mall. I saw a lake in the domain and also a fernery. -Ferneries are not uncommon in this part of the world. They consist -of a collection of rockeries covered with tree-ferns, beneath the -fronds of which there is a maze-like arrangement of damp paths. The -only objection to these artificial groupings of natural objects is, -that after having once entered them, you are afraid that it will be -difficult to find your way out. It being Sunday, all was very quiet. -In the afternoon the quietness was disturbed by the howlings of a -Salvationists’ procession. - -It started from a large building called the Salvation Army Barracks, -in front of the hotel. At the head of the procession there was a man -bearing a red banner, on which was written ‘Blood and Fire.’ Next came -the band dressed in a militia-like uniform, each man with the name of -his religion labelled on his cap. Behind these came a great number -of women in coal-scuttle-shaped bonnets and blue dresses. They were -labelled like the men. These uniforms can be purchased at the Salvation -Army stores. Behind all there came the riffraff of the town. Mixed up -with the front part of the regiment were a number of young men also in -uniform, who pivoted and pranced about as if imitating David. They led -the procession. To encourage people to join them, the prancers flicked -their pocket-handkerchiefs as if beckoning. It was very interesting, -and more especially so as it was accompanied by lively music. I met -with Salvationists, their barracks, their stores, and their provisions -throughout the colony. - -The Salvation Army publishes an organ called the _War Cry_, which -circulates in many parts of the colonies. The only one I saw was -chiefly filled with reports as to the progress of regiments in -different districts. Parts of the reports--but for the spirit in which -we suppose they are put forward--sound like blasphemy, and I refrain -from quoting them. The bulk of them contain numerous ejaculations -about Hallelujah and Salvation, and are filled with contradictory -statements. Much relating to the firing of guns is incomprehensible. - -Here are a few specimens of _War Cry_ literature, taken at random from -a copy picked up on an hotel table:-- - -‘Captain Perry reports from Nelson that one dear man had walked 800 -miles to gain salvation. The barracks were packed. Great conviction; -but they went away blinded by the devil’s delusive plaister--“Not to -night.” Lord save them is our prayer. Hallelujah! Cry going up. Look -out, Sydenham! we’re going to flog you! Will do it, too!’ - -‘Auckland reports that the Marshal held the people spell-bound, and -accompanied the singing with the piano. £13 4s. collected. Hallelujah!’ - -‘At Lyttelton, one sailor who had been tossing about the ocean of life, -took passage in the Gospel Ship, and shipped right through viâ Calvary, -and all the people said, Amen.’ - -One article was devoted to a threatened invasion of China. - -‘In six weeks the first contingent was to be stationed at one of the -protected ports, Hong-kong, Canton, or Shanghai.’ ‘We shall dress like -Chinese,’ said Marshal Booth; ‘take Chinese food, and try to come down -to the level of the Chinese themselves.’ - -While I was in New Zealand a Maori army was being organized. In -Canterbury I saw an Army store. Here, works by General and Mrs. Booth -can be purchased. One, by Major Corbridge, is entitled ‘Up-Line to -Heaven, Down-Line to Hell.’ Soldiers’ cards, pray-cards, roll-books, -and cartridges are also sold. I suppose the latter, which cost ten -shillings a thousand, are tracts. - -At the outfit department you can buy regulation shields, uniforms, army -pocket-knives containing photos of General and Mrs. Booth, sisters’ -jerseys, badges, sergeants’ bannerettes. The Salvation Army are -certainly a powerful body amongst the lower classes in the colonies. -One officer describes his colleagues as ‘Hallelujah gutter-snipes, and -ragpickers on the muck-heap of sin.’ They work amongst those who find -ordinary churches too genteel. It is to be hoped that they are doing -good. - -Dodd and I had several good walks and drives about Sandhurst. One -was to Eaglehawk, which is a large mining district. In fact, the -whole district from Sandhurst to Eaglehawk, and, for that matter, for -miles beyond, is covered with poppet-heads. These poppet-heads, which -indicate shafts, extend in lines over an undulating country. From the -length of any of these lines, you can roughly estimate the length -of the lodes or reefs which are being worked. Like Charters Towers, -the reefs are of quartz; but, instead of being in a granitic rock, -they intersect or run through the traditional slate. The distance -to Eaglehawk was four miles, and on the road we counted sixty-four -public-houses, and ten places of worship: that is to say, the -reconverters were to the converters in the ratio of six to one. This -reminds one of the way in which whisky and water is sometimes mixed. - -During the evening Dodd and I made several attempts to gain an entrance -to the Salvationist barracks. It was always too crowded. We heard that -the Salvationists had become so popular, that other sects, in order -to draw an audience, had been compelled to adopt similar tactics, and -brass bands had been started at several chapels. - -Next day we spent our time in visiting mines and stamping mills. One -mine we visited was lighted by electricity. It was a very nice dry mine -for a visitor, but as it only yielded four or five pennyweights of gold -to the ton of quartz, it paid but small dividends to its shareholders. -Some of the mills we visited were very swagger. They had tree-ferns -growing in the engine-rooms, and everything was clean and neat. Those -who managed the mills and mines were exceedingly courteous, and told us -all that we wished to know. - -During the afternoon we saw a crowd in the middle of Pall Mall, and -thinking it was a row going on, we walked towards it. It proved to be -the brokers of the mining exchange doing their business in the street. -This is common at other towns in Victoria. - -The next town was Ballarat. The country about was hilly. In the -distance several prominent hills were, I was told, old volcanoes. -Originally this was the great centre for washing gold out of the -alluvium. The deposits of alluvium consist of pebbles and sand, which -at one time formed the bed of a river. These deposits are called leads. -At first it was thought that the leads were only on the surface of the -ground, just as modern river-beds are on the surface. Exploration, -however, proved that there were ancient river-beds which had been -buried by flows of lava, forming what is called bluestone. This led -to deep alluvium mining. In sinking downwards, the miner would pass -through successive layers of gravels, clays, and bluestone, until he -reached the upturned ends of the slate. The slate is the oldest rock, -and over the surface of this rivers ran, depositing their gravels in -the hollows. Then during periods of volcanic activity, the gravel was -buried by bluestone. During a period of repose, rivers flowed over the -bluestone, and there deposited fresh gravels; and so the processes -of nature continued, sometimes laying down a layer of gravel, and -sometimes one of bluestone. The whole arrangement is like a plate of -sandwiches. The plate being the slates, the bread the gravels, and the -ham the bluestone. The gold is in the gravels, and it probably came -there by the wearing away of the upper part of quartz lodes, cropping -out on the surface of the country over which the rivers ran. It is -probable that by the action of solvents percolating through these -gravels, the original character of the gold has been altered. It may -have been made purer, and it may, during processes of preparation, have -been collected together to form large nuggets. - -At all events the gold from alluvial washings is usually purer than -the gold from quartz reefs; and further, it is only in the alluvial -deposits that large nuggets have been discovered. - -At Ballarat the alluvial deposits have been exhausted, and only reef -mining is to be seen. To see workings in deep leads, we had to take -train to Creswick, and from there a buggy out into the country. On -account of the softness and the water contained in the deep gravels, -peculiar systems have to be adopted for their extraction. The shaft is -sunk through the deposit to be worked down to a hard bed, and a tunnel -is driven in the hard bed beneath the soft deposit as far as the limit -of the property. From this tunnel vertical holes, or ‘jump-ups,’ are -made upwards into the soft gravels, which are then taken out in blocks. -As these are removed the roof is allowed to fall in. On the surface -the gravel is put into a circular iron tank or buddle in which there -are revolving forks. Here it is washed with water, and the big stones -thrown away. The clear gravel is then drawn off into long troughs or -sluices, down which water is flowing. On the bottom of the trough there -are small ledges of wood or iron, behind which the gold collects, while -the lighter gravel is washed away. The country round Creswick is gently -undulating, with here and there a few conical hills--probably old -volcanoes. - -On our return to Ballarat we had a good look at the town. The streets -are remarkable for their width. On a windy day you might hesitate -before you crossed them. At the School of Mines we visited a museum. -The school itself was in an old court-house. The condemned cell had -been converted into a room for a professor. The museum was next door, -in a church which has been bought. It is not an uncommon thing to put -churches up for auction in the colonies. - -Before I say good-bye to Melbourne, I must tell a story which I heard -about the Yarra, or rather about a man who lived on the banks of that -charming little river. It is called: - - -Early Days in Melbourne; or, Captain Stringer and the Waters of -Jogga Wogga. - -Old Captain Stringer came here in ’54, and, like a lot of skippers who -came to Melbourne about that time, was ruined. No sooner had he dropped -anchor than all the crew, even to the little cabin-boy, made for -shore, bought a swag, and started off for Bendigo. The gold fever was -on everybody, and even £20 a month was not sufficient to keep a sailor -on board his ship. At first Stringer took the matter philosophically, -and was always saying that by-and-by they would be able to get hands -on board for asking. Jack would find that gold-washing and hard tucker -wasn’t exactly Paradise, and very shortly we should see him coming back -to Melbourne like a Prodigal Son. Every day saw new ships in port, and -rushes of new chums off on the road towards Bendigo. Stringer, like -many of the skippers, was part owner of the vessel he commanded, and -this, no doubt, was an inducement for him to stay on board. Those who -had no share in their vessels used to wait a month or two trying to get -a crew. After this they would pack up a swag, leave the ship to take -care of itself, and start off, as they said, in search of men. - -In six months Port Phillip, which used at that time to reach nearly up -to Flinders Street, was one dense mass of helpless shipping. It was -ships, ships, ships, as far as the eye could see, and, what was worse, -the number was daily increasing. Many skippers tried to sell their -ships, but buyers were not to be found. Many people thought themselves -lucky if they could find anyone willing to receive a ship as a present. -To be relieved of the responsibility of having a ship to look after -seemed to ease their minds. A good number, rather than give their -ships away, relieved themselves of the responsibility of ownership by -scuttling their property. They were not going to let people have their -belongings for nothing. - -It wasn’t long before the blocking up of the river and harbour with -floating and sunken vessels began to have an effect by causing silt to -deposit; and, to make a long story short, after the floods of 1855, if -there were one ship ashore there must have been at least 5,000 of them, -and Captain Stringer’s was amongst the lot. In the following year the -Government had a new channel cleared out for the river and the land -where the ships were became a marsh. One or two who had their ships in -a dry place where grass had begun to grow, clubbed together and started -a farm, using their ships as dwelling-houses and stables. Things were -pretty expensive in those days. Land down where Flinders Street now is -was worth £150 to £200 a foot; and as for dwelling-houses, you could -not get a weather-boarded cottage under £500 a year. The climate, too, -was more trying than it is at present. Every other day we used to get -those hot north winds called brickfielders. When these were blowing it -was like standing in a baker’s oven, and the dust was so thick that you -could not put your nose outside the door. What with losing his ship, -and the effects of rum so long as it lasted, old Stringer seemed to -be dreadfully upset. Still, he kept up a certain kind of style, and -wanted us to believe that he was well off. When we called on board his -boat he would always produce something or other which he said he had -specially ordered from London. Once it was some cigars. He said they -had cost him two-and-sixpence apiece. The duty he paid on them was -very heavy. But anyhow, they were the best Havanas ever made--in fact, -part of a parcel expressly manufactured for the King of Hanover, and -he hoped we should like them. Of course, we all knew that Stringer -couldn’t afford two-and-sixpenny cigars, and what he had so much to say -about were only penny cheroots. All that we could conclude was that -Stringer was proud, and just to humour the old man we told him that the -cigars were the best ever seen in the colony. Another trick he had was -to go about with a few coppers and some keys in his pocket, jingling -as if he were carrying the mint. One thing which he never forgot was -every now and again to jerk out his pocket-handkerchief, and with it -a roll of paper that looked like bank-notes. ‘Dear me, I shall lose -that money yet,’ he would remark, as he stooped to pick up the roll. -At first we thought that they were real notes, but after picking them -up once or twice when Stringer had jerked them a little too far, we -saw then that it was only a roll of tissue-paper. Sometimes, if he -knew that anyone was walking close behind him, he would drop the roll -on purpose for them to pick it up. All that he wanted was for us to -tell him that he ought not to be so careless with such large sums of -money. This would start him off about his ancestors, who had so much -wealth that an instinctive indifference and carelessness for money had -gradually been bred in the family. He could no more help dropping rolls -of bank-notes in the street than he could help breathing. At last it -was generally recognised that Stringer was mad, the particular form of -his madness being an inordinate desire to be thought a millionaire. -This was coupled with such an absurd amount of pride that, although -he was really as poor as a church mouse, and at times on the verge of -starvation, he would never receive a present. The only way we could -keep him alive was to leave things at his ship whenever we knew he was -absent: one man would leave him a sack of flour, another a barrel of -pork, a third some tea, and in this way we managed to keep the old man -going. - -Many of us had an idea that Stringer’s madness would gradually wear -away, but instead of that it seemed to get worse. He took to dressing -in a queer way, putting on a red waistcoat with brass buttons, and -a white hat. It wasn’t long before everyone in Melbourne knew old -Stringer as well as they knew Collins Street. Another way in which he -made himself conspicuous was by writing letters to the papers about -his ancestors, and putting in advertisements about rolls of bank-notes -which had accidentally slipped out of his pocket. Some of his -compositions were so peculiar that they were reproduced in the country -papers, and in a short time mad Stringer threatened to become as well -known an Australian institution as Melbourne itself. - -Suddenly it was observed that Stringer had a slight limp, and this was -followed by a hacking little cough. He told us it was living on the -marsh--he had rheumatics, and was suffering from malaria. As weeks went -on, the limp got worse and worse, and the case of poor old Stringer -excited considerable sympathy. Even the newspapers took notice of the -old man’s sufferings. One or two doctors who went down to see him said -that his rheumatism was very acute; he was as mad as a hatter, and he -ought to be compelled to leave the marsh. - -While we were discussing how old Stringer was to be got out of his ship -on the marsh, it was reported that he had disappeared. This was of -course another fact for the newspapers. Two weeks later a letter came -from Stringer, saying that he was trying some springs which had been -recommended to him as good for rheumatics. His health had not been -good, and he thought a course of waters would perhaps be beneficial. - -A month later a note appeared in the _Argus_, giving an account of a -marvellous cure which had been effected upon a well-known resident in -Melbourne, by the natural waters of Jogga Wogga. The details which were -given clearly pointed to Stringer as the patient on whom the wonderful -cure had been effected. The news quickly spread throughout the colony. -Thinking it would please the Captain’s pride to see himself in print, -we sent him up copies of the paper. In a few days we received a long -letter in reply, saying how pleased he was that we had not forgotten -him. The account in the _Argus_ was quite correct, and not only had he -been cured (and he here gave evidence that he was aware that he had -been suffering, not only from rheumatics and malaria, but also from a -brain disease), but that a large number of other people had derived -considerable benefit from the springs. There were several distinct -sources. Some of it, he said, was pure and pleasant to the palate, -whilst the waters of other springs were somewhat nauseous. One man had -been cured of sore eyes; another had had an impediment in his speech -removed; a third had got rid of chronic headaches with which he had -been affected; while he himself had been cured of rheumatism, low -fever, and madness. Shortly after this a letter appeared in the papers -confirming what Stringer had written, and the fame of the Jogga Wogga -springs got noised throughout Australia. - -Later on Stringer came back looking quite respectable and well. The -change which the waters had made in the old man was truly marvellous. -He told several of us that he was so certain about the efficacy of -the Jogga Wogga waters, that he had taken out a claim for Jogga Wogga -district. If we would assist him, he intended to set up a factory for -the bottling of the Jogga Wogga waters, in which he clearly believed -that there was a lot of honest money to be made. It was certain that -the waters had already been well advertised, and that they worked -marvellous cures. All that remained to be done was to bottle the waters -ready for customers. - -In less than a month, with the help of a few hundreds which he borrowed -from us, Captain Stringer had started a bottling establishment on -the lower part of the Yarra. He must have a wharf for the purpose -of loading steamers. He would have had the establishment at Jogga -Wogga itself, but he showed it was cheaper to send the waters down in -casks rather than to send bottles up to Jogga Wogga, and then cart -them back again. Of course he issued cards, circulars, prospectuses, -put advertisements in all the newspapers, and did what was necessary -and proper to bring the Jogga Wogga waters to the notice of the -health-seeking public. One of his circulars contained testimonials from -bishops and doctors who had known Stringer before his illness. These -were backed by letters and articles from various newspapers. - -The waters he sold were of three kinds. No. 1 was described as slightly -acid, containing a fine precipitate of yellow flocculent sulphur, -and a small percentage of sulphuretted hydrogen. It was strongly -recommended in all cases of skin disease, and to patients who were -dyspeptic or suffering from an attack of bile. For locomotor ataxy it -was infallible, and failing appetites were speedily cured. Acidity, -giddiness, headache, drowsiness, and spasms of all descriptions might -readily be cured by a hot bath made from these waters. Small bottles, -2s. 6d. Large bottles for family use, containing one imperial quart, 5s. - -No. 2 was described as an alkaline water, which rendered the cuticle -so soft and pliable that it might be called the beautifier. For gout, -rheumatic arthritis, forms of myalgia like lumbago, chronic rheumatism, -relaxation of anchylosed joints and psoriasis, it was unequalled. Short -dry coughs, singing in the ears, vitiated tastes, might be removed by -taking a dose of this water three times a day. Price 3s. a pint. A -large bottle for family use, containing an imperial quart, 7s. 6d. - -No. 3 was described as somewhat saline, exceedingly beneficial when -applied either externally or internally. As an alterative in tubercular -diseases and in cases of nervous affections, it was unequalled. It -was particularly recommended to residents in the East, and to all who -indulge in the luxuries of the table; a wineglassful taken after every -meal would arrest the progress of the most virulent disease. Price 10s. -per small bottle. A large bottle suitable for family uses, containing -an imperial quart, one guinea. - -In the colonies the sale was enormous; in fact, the orders poured in -so rapidly, that Stringer said he was obliged to decline orders from -people living near him. He would supply them later on. In a few months -orders were received from abroad, and great steamers sailed from Port -Phillip loaded with cases of the Jogga Wogga waters. Now and then -barge-loads of barrels would be seen toiling up the Yarra on their way -towards the Jogga Wogga springs. - -For two years the trade had so increased, that poor old Stringer, as -we used to call him, was in a fair way to become a millionaire. About -this time, however, it began to be whispered about that there was some -sort of trickery going on at Stringer’s establishment; the waters were -not of the same quality as at first. One man wrote to the papers, -saying that the Jogga Wogga waters, instead of curing him, had made him -vomit to such at extent that he had to remain in bed for a week. One -or two others addressed letters to the bishops and doctors, to know if -their testimonials about the Jogga Wogga waters were genuine. Of course -they replied that as the Jogga Wogga waters had cured Captain Stringer -of rheumatism, low fever, and lunacy, they must be good. While all this -was going on, old Stringer was raking in the pounds hand over hand. - -A crusher appeared at last. A gentleman, who signed himself John -Burdett, M.D., said that as three of his patients who had been in the -habit of taking the Jogga Wogga stimulant had suddenly died, while -many others had been seriously ill, he had been led to make a close -examination of these celebrated waters. - -Although he had made numerous inquiries respecting the Jogga Wogga -springs, he had failed to discover their existence. In fact, he was of -opinion that Jogga Wogga had no existence. After careful analyses of -the waters, he concluded that the quantity of organic matter which the -so-called Jogga Wogga water contained, rendered it highly improbable -that it was not of subterranean origin. - -The general character of the water was not unlike that of some slowly -flowing, muddy stream. - -No. 1 Jogga Wogga water, described as slightly acidic and containing -a fine precipitate of sulphur and a small percentage of sulphuretted -hydrogen, was strikingly similar to the water in the Yarra, at the -point below the bridge where the waters from the gas-works mix with -those of the adjoining tannery. - -No. 2 Jogga Wogga water, described as an alkaline solution which -rendered the cuticle soft and pliable, was identical with water -taken from the Yarra below the tallow factory, or near to the second -soap-boilers. - -No. 3 Jogga Wogga water, described as saline, Dr. Burdett said he was -uncertain about. It might be from certain parts of the Yarra, or it -might be from the tide-way opposite Captain Stringer’s wharf. - -In conclusion, he publicly challenged Captain Stringer to indicate the -position of the Jogga Wogga springs, offering to pay £1,000 if such -springs could be proved to have an existence. - -The reply to the attack appeared next morning. It was dated - - ‘Melbourne Heads, S. S. _Hooker._ - - ‘My dear Dr. Burdett, - - ‘You are quite right, and as you have discovered the true - source of the Jogga Wogga waters, you are perfectly free to - carry on my business during my absence in America. I may not - return for some time. - - ‘Yours affectionately, - ‘Captain Stringer.’ - -We returned to Melbourne by rail. For some distance after leaving -Ballarat the country was hilly, but after that it was flat--dead flat. -It looked like a placid green ocean. Once it had perhaps been a fiery -ocean of lava, which, by the processes of time, had been smoothed over -to an even surface. Crossing the plains, you saw long lines of wire -fencing getting lower and lower until they vanished as a black line -in the direction of the horizon. What opportunities to study space -of two dimensions! What cricket grounds! All the teams in the world -might play upon these plains and not one would know of the existence -of his neighbours. I suppose the flatness of Australia has had much -to do with their success at cricket. Every boy could play. An exactly -similar argument will apply to their success at rowing. The numerous -and magnificent rivers which traverse the Australian continent in all -directions--no, that’s wrong. They have no rivers. They took to rowing -out of perversity. - - - - -_TASMANIA._ - - -I made two trips to Tasmania, one of them being from Melbourne to -Hobart. On one of these trips the sea was as smooth as glass, and -looking in the water you could see the reflection of trees and islets -as if looking in a mirror. On another trip, however, it was so rough -that all passengers had to be kept below, and a fourteen-knot boat, -when it did not go backwards, seldom made more than four knots. So much -for the moods in which you may find Bass Straits. When Bass Straits are -amiable, the time taken from Melbourne to Launceston is usually about -twenty-four hours. You commence the journey by going down the tortuous -muddy Yarra. As I have before remarked, there are some people who say -that this river smells. The only things of particular interest which I -remember passing were two steamers which had just arrived with tea from -China. Both of them had seen bad weather, especially one called the -_Airlie_, which had lost her boats and all her live-stock. When we saw -her she looked pretty much like a ship that had been through a naval -engagement. A fellow-passenger told a friend of mine that these ships -carried Chinamen as sailors. The captain and the officers dressed in -white--white coat, white pants, white hats and white shoes. They talked -Chinese. He had heard them saying ‘Chop chop.’ That’s Chinese for -‘Hurry up,’ you know. - -At the entrance to Port Phillip, into which the Yarra empties itself, -there are fortifications and a lighthouse. Until quite recently, on -account of the fear of Russians, these lights were extinguished. When -we returned from Launceston in a little boat called the _Pateena_, we -had to heave to at this point, until we had satisfied the officers of a -steam-launch that we were not Russians in disguise. - -Amongst our passengers there were, as usual, one or two celebrities. -There were illiterate millionaires travelling for business, and young -Oxonian millionaires travelling for pleasure. One man was pointed -out to me as being worth from £150 to £200 per day; another man was a -bagman carrying samples of the _Airlie’s_ tea. The most remarkable man -with whom I conversed was the heaviest man in the colonies. His name is -Jennings, he is a native of Tasmania, weighs thirty-three stone, and -belongs to a group of stout Tasmanians known as ‘Our Boys.’ He had been -on a trip to Victoria and New South Wales, and being a distinguished -personage, had been presented with ‘free passes’ for the colonial -railways. In other countries he would have paid double. Not being able -to go in an ordinary cabin, he had engaged the ladies’ saloon, where -he had a bed made up on the floor; when once in bed he told me that he -could not turn over, and ‘these ship stewards don’t understand me, you -know,’ he remarked. - -After dinner I spent some time in the smoking-room, where a young -gentleman, who was completing his education by voyaging round the -world, entertained an audience by accounts of his own adventures and -the idiosyncrasies of his friends. - -In the Red Sea he and his companions had nearly succumbed to the -intense heat. The perspiration ran from them until they both got wet, -and pools of water formed by the drippings from their chins. _The -playing cards were actually sticky._ ‘I brought five guns with me,’ -said the young gentleman, ‘and in India I shot seven elephants in one -day.’ ‘Seventeen,’ he means, whispered my neighbour, who gave me a -nudge. After this we were entertained by a long story about one of the -young gentleman’s friends, whom he described as being ‘awfully hard.’ -‘You couldn’t knock “the hard” out of him. He was the hardest fellow -he ever knew. Somehow or other he was always down on his luck. Once he -was lost in the bush for five days. When he got back to his station, -all his cattle had died. Then he went to sea for five years, going -round the world ten times. This set him up with money to start another -station. The cattle again died.’ ‘Did he go to sea for five years -more?’ I asked. ‘Oh no, he didn’t go to sea again; he used to make -wagers with fellows that he would drink a cask of beer and nibble up -the staves of wood as he went on. They weren’t large casks, you know. -His great aunt died the other day and left him £60,000 a year. He was -awfully hard, don’tchyerknow.’ - -Another gentleman, who had a long tawny moustache, told us that he -knew Tasmania better than any other man. He said that he had been -collecting notes for the last twenty-five years for a book he was -writing on Tasmania, and the style in which he wrote was like that of -Artemus Ward. - -About this time, there being a change in the amplitude and period of -the ship’s movements, I decided on bed. I was glad that I had done -this, as I afterwards found my health was not altogether reliable. - -Early next morning we were steaming up the waters of the lovely Tamar. -The river is fully a mile in width, and is bounded with big bays, -clumps of trees, and hills on either side. The reflections in the water -were so clear, that a photograph of what we saw must have been a double -picture. Here and there along the hills there were lines of clouds, -while at the extremities of the bays there were banks of mist. It is -partly owing to these misty Scotch mornings, which kill off the weakly -ones, that the British race exists. I was told by one passenger that -the trees were red gums, blue gums, and wattles. A second passenger -said they were blue gums, red gums, and wattles. A third said they were -wattles, red gums, and blue gums. I gradually learnt how many names I -required on which to ring the changes when describing the Tasmanian -flora. - -Launceston, which is forty miles up this river, is a clean, quiet, nice -little town. From a distance you see several spires of churches, some -tall chimneys belonging to the tin-smelting works, some saw mills, -and a lot of houses, the whole being surrounded by high hills. On one -side of the town is the river Esk, flowing down a rocky gorge from -the Cora Linn. I went to see this, and was very much struck with the -picturesqueness of the wild and rocky canon-like gorge through which -the river flows. - -The streets of the town are wide, and contain many good shops. -Victorians call Tasmania ‘sleepy hollow.’ I cannot say that Launceston -was particularly sleepy in its appearance. It was certainly quiet, but -in the leading streets there was always a comfortable amount of traffic -visible. - -During the last two years Launceston and northern Tasmania have -been much disturbed with small earthquakes. Many of these have been -sufficient to produce slight cracks in walls, and to disturb stone -ornaments on the parapets of buildings. One small minaret, like a spire -on a church tower, had been partly twisted round. The origin of these -disturbances is supposed to be near the eastern entrance to Bass Strait. - - -Johnson’s Boy. - -I suffered from toothache when I was in Launceston, and was in -consequence led to make inquiries about dentistry. ‘Speaking of teeth,’ -said a gentleman at the club, ‘we have a dentist in this town who will -whip spots out of all the tooth carpenters in creation. He came here -about two years ago, and set up as a locksmith and general mechanic. -Everybody said he was pretty clever, but somehow or other he didn’t -succeed as he ought to have done. The only work he could get when he -first came was to mend sewing machines, and now and then a bicycle. But -it is an ill wind that blows no one any luck. Fergusson, the manager of -the Bank of Van Diemen’s Land (that’s a name we hate, you know), was -taking a walk one afternoon near the beach, when he suddenly found a -sack over his head, and, before he could turn round or shout for help, -he was tied to a tree and gagged. The ruffians then took his keys, went -down to the bank, and helped themselves. Of course there was a lot -of talk about the affair, and the newspapers said that bank-managers -who had only one key to their safes ought to be held responsible for -any loss which might occur. The result of all this was that Johnson -got the job of altering a lot of safes, so that they could only be -opened by two keys. Next he got railway work. After this he started -electric bells. The electrical business--which he does very well, -mind ye, and, if you want electrical bells, you can’t do better than -go to Johnson--seems to have started him off in a new line. You have -heard, no doubt, of Pulvermacher’s electrical belts, which are made -of bits of magnets wrapped up in flannel. They say it’s the magnetism -that works the cure, but I think it’s the flannel. Johnson had an idea -that electricity was the thing, and if you could get from time to time -a gentle current passed through your system it might be exceedingly -beneficial. That electrical currents work cures for rheumatism and -other diseases is demonstrated every day in hospitals throughout the -world. The problem which Johnson set himself was how to get a current -passed through a man without using a machine or a battery--the man must -make his own current. At every meal a man took in a certain quantity of -food which, like fuel, gives out heat. Instead of converting the whole -of the food into tissue and heat, Johnson wanted to convert a bit of it -into electricity; and he solved the problem splendidly.’ - -‘And how did he do it?’ I inquired. - -‘Well, when a man takes his food, there is always a certain amount of -salt and acid in his mouth, you know. Now Johnson thought that if a man -had his upper row of teeth made of copper, and the lower ones made of -zinc, a regular battery might be established.’ - -‘And has he ever tried it?’ I asked. - -‘Tried it indeed! He’s tried it in all shapes you could think about, -and, what is more, he has taken a patent out for the arrangement. In a -prospectus he issued, he called it “The New Dentistry, the Curer of all -Diseases and the Improver of the Mind.” Battery teeth were guaranteed -to strengthen the whole muscular system, restore long-lost complexions, -cure headaches, and to rouse into activity the whole physical action -of the human frame. He began with his shop-boy. First he stopped some -holes in his uppers with copper, and then corresponding holes, which -he bored in the lowers, with zinc. The boy was originally one of those -stupid fat-faced youths, without a sequence of ideas in his head. -After the new stopping was in, it was generally remarked that he had -suddenly become intelligent. As this was so successful, Johnson next -experimented by respectively replacing two of his uppers and two of his -lowers with zinc and copper. The effect was astounding. Every time the -boy closed his mouth and made contact, his countenance would light up -with a preternatural glow of intelligence, and he would look at you as -if he was reading your inmost thoughts. When he opened his mouth, of -course the contact was broken, and the expression of wisdom would be -suddenly replaced by the old look of stupidity. - -‘Lots of us used to go round to see Johnson’s boy make and break -contact, or, as he called it, turning on the intellect. - -‘One thing which was very remarkable, was the boy’s behaviour when, -after lying all night with his mouth shut and the current running, he -first got up in the morning. He seemed to be so full of spirits, that -until he had had a run round the town with his mouth open there was no -restraining him. Johnson was delighted, and to determine the limits -to which the experiment might be carried, he pulled out all the boy’s -teeth, and set him up with his copper and zinc arrangement. - -‘The results were more remarkable than ever. Day by day the boy’s -brains got bigger and bigger, until at last his intellect became -perfectly gigantic. When the current was on, one great hobby he took to -was to write poetry, for all of which Johnson secured the copyright. -At times, when he had his teeth arranged in series, the current was -so intense that Johnson was afraid to let him sleep, unless he had a -wooden plug in his mouth just to keep the circuit open. - -‘Johnson, however, lost him at last. One night he and the boy were -having pickled salmon for supper (one of those salmon which have -thriven so well in the rivers, you know), when all of a sudden the boy -jumped up with a yell and bolted out of the door. Johnson was after -him, but it was no use--off he went along the road towards Hobart. Some -people who saw him said that his eyes were lighted up like two electric -lamps, and sparks were flying out all over him. Several search-parties -went out to look for him, but without success. In the inquiry which -followed his disappearance, it turned out that Johnson had forgotten -to put his teeth into parallel circuit, which, as he admitted, was the -only way in which persons with metallic teeth ought to sit down to -pickled salmon.’ - -‘And has there never been any trace of him discovered?’ I asked. - -‘Well, there has been no decided trace, but a fellow who read a paper -the other evening at the Mechanics, attributed the electrical state of -our atmosphere to the proximity of Johnson’s boy; and one man who spoke -said that he might be the cause of the red sunsets we have been having. -When folks don’t understand a thing properly they always put it down to -electricity. You ought to go round to Johnson and get him to put some -of his patent stopping into your teeth. It’ll cure the toothache, and -give you an imagination. My teeth were stopped by Johnson.’ - -I inquired about Johnson, and from what I heard he was a remarkable -man. I, however, should rather recommend him as a mechanist than as a -dentist. - - * * * * * - -Now for a few facts I cribbed out of a book. Tasmania was discovered -in 1642, by Van Tasman. At first it was called Van Diemen’s Land. It -fell into the possession of the English in 1803, and for many years was -used as a station for convicts. For the next twenty years it appears to -have been governed by military orders. There is a remarkable novel on -convict life in Tasmania, called ‘For the Term of His Natural Life,’ -by Marcus Clarke. Those who wish to know how brutal and tyrannical -Englishmen may have been, cannot do better than read Clarke’s depiction -of early times near Hobart. I do not suppose that all that is related -in this book is absolutely true, but from documents which I had shown -to me when in Tasmania, from what I heard, and from the testimony of -official records to which Marcus Clarke refers, it would appear that -many of the incidents referred to are by no means pure invention. To -many ladies, and to those who are easily affected by the descriptions -of the trials and misery of others, I would say, Do not read ‘His -Natural Life.’ - -For many years the aborigines gave considerable trouble to the -settlers. The last of them died in 1876. In early times many of them -were shot, but after they had been subjugated, they rapidly died -off whilst undergoing the process of civilization. Tasmania is a -hilly country, having several mountains over 4,000 feet in height, -and one, Ben Lomond, is 5,000 feet. Between the mountains there are -many picturesque lakes, and round the coast there are several large -harbours, some of which, like Hobart, are not only commodious, but -extremely beautiful. The climate is on the whole mild. In the mountains -it is cold in winter, but the mildness of the summer attracts many -visitors from Victoria. - -In the woods there are a number of animals, which are chiefly -marsupial. Amongst them are the kangaroo, wallaby, native devil, -wombat, platypus, the opossum, etc. There are also a number of snakes -and lizards. The flora, like the fauna, is very similar to that of -Victoria. - -The animal on which Tasmanians pride themselves is the duck-billed -mole, more commonly known as the ornithorhynchus or platypus. This -is a fierce little animal about twelve inches long. Its body is like -a mole, while its head is like that of a duck. A very good picture -of this interesting creature may be seen on some of the Tasmanian -postage stamps. Not long ago it was discovered that this extraordinary -combination of bird and mammal laid eggs. Their nests are usually -situated in the topmost branches of the highest trees. The eggs, when -boiled hard, are said to be delicious, whilst the animal itself, -when stuffed with sage and roasted, is fit to place before Lucullus. -The plural of platypus is platypuses, platypi, or platypodes. This -interesting little animal is also found on the adjoining continent. - - -The Smelting Works. - -While at Launceston I spent an evening visiting the Smelting Works. -The tin-ore which is treated at these works comes from Mount Bischoff, -one of the largest and most famous tin mines in the world. The -process of smelting is apparently very simple. The ore is mixed with -about one-fifth its weight of powdered coal, and then put into a -reverberatory furnace for about eight hours. To purify the tin after -it is drawn off from this furnace it is kept liquid in a large iron -caldron, fixed at the bottom of which there is a piece of green wood. -The green wood, as it is charred in the bath of molten tin, gives -off gas which rises in bubbles to the surface of the metal. This gas -oxidizes the impurities, which float up as a scum that can be easily -removed. After this the tin is cast into brick-like blocks, which are -carefully stored until the price of tin has risen sufficiently high to -yield a profit to those who own the works. - -The manager of the works is a nice old gentleman with grey hair. To -look at, you would think he was made of good-nature and solid facts. -He has a lot of fun in him, however--not common fun, but deep fun. The -jokes he made you had to crack for yourself--about a week afterwards. -When he showed me the works I can honestly say that I saw nothing -even with a veneer of fun upon it. I felt I was getting solid facts, -and it was only about two months afterwards that I discovered that -I had really been looking on and listening to something which was -exceedingly funny. He showed me a chimney at the end of a furnace with -a little hole at the bottom of it. ‘Draw out the plug, Jim,’ said he -to a workman, ‘and let the gentleman look at the flames and feel the -draught.’ One by one we peered into the little hole and looked at the -dazzling white flame, and felt the inrush of the air. ‘Be careful, -be careful,’ said the old gentleman; ‘that draught is something -tremendous. Once a man put his hand to the hole and it was stuck fast -like a sucker on a stone. Before we could get him loose we had to draw -the charge and extinguish the fire. This made us very careful. When -we first started smelting we had the chimney forty feet higher, and -then there _was_ a draught. My eye, how it roared! The first charge -of ore we put in the furnace disappeared right up the chimney. The -directors told us it wouldn’t do, and the shareholders said that -letting all their ore fly up the chimney was bad management, so we -cut it down twenty feet. After this the furnace worked all right, but -the things that happened round about it were quite mysterious. Things -took to disappearing. First a lot of coal was lost, next the workmen -lost their tools, after that there were several complaints made to -the office that clothes had been stolen. Finally, visitors to the -works began to complain, and some of them sent in polite notes saying -that they had accidentally left some of their belongings behind them, -and asked us to be kind enough to send them back. One had lost his -umbrella, another a dog, a third his watch-chain. - -‘It was clear that robbery was going on, but how to catch the culprits -was the difficulty. One suggestion was to mark a lot of things, and lay -them about the works. The expense that followed the suggestion nearly -broke us. First we marked a few bank-notes, but these went so quickly -that we took to marking clothes. After that we marked walking sticks, -and finally some pigs of iron. But the whole lot went, and where they -went to nobody could tell. - -‘The end of it all was that the directors called in the police to watch -the place. Next morning, for it was only at night we run the furnace, -you know, down came the police to the office, saying that if they -stayed at our works they would soon be bankrupt; several of them had -lost their truncheons, one his pocket-handkerchief, and another his -coat-tails.’ - -‘And how did it all finish?’ I asked. - -‘Well, it finished by a detective coming down.’ - -‘And did you lose the detective?’ I inquired. - -‘No, we didn’t lose the detective; but if that hole’--and he pointed -with his stick at the hole through which we had been peering--‘had been -three inches bigger we might have had to have advertised for him. When -we saw him stuck to that wall like a sucker to a stone, we knew where -all the lost property had gone.’ - -‘Of course you had to draw the charge and extinguish the fire before -you got him loose,’ I remarked. - -‘Take a drink,’ said the narrator. ‘One fact that proves the truth of -history is that it repeats itself. This story has repeated itself, and -therefore it must be true also. D’ye see?’ - -Having seen these works, I felt that I should like to see Mount -Bischoff, by making the journey to which I might see as much of -Tasmania as by making a journey in any other direction. In consequence -of delays and accidents the trip to Bischoff and back took me seven -days. - -I left Launceston next afternoon by train to Latrobe. The first part -of the line is the same as that which takes the traveller to Hobart, -distant 133 miles. The country is undulating. In a few places you see -bush or forest, but the greater portion of the land is laid out in -farms, and is dotted over with country-houses and clumps of furze, -which, at the time of my visit, were in full bloom. In many districts -I was told that rabbits had become so numerous as to be a pest, and it -was necessary to legislate for their destruction. The furze-bushes, -although so pretty and English in appearance, from the rapidity with -which they spread, had also become a pest. What is more, they sheltered -the rabbits. Thus it has happened that legislation is required for the -extermination of the homely furze. To get rid of it, first it is burned -and then grubbed up by the roots. Rabbits are got rid of by shooting, -trapping, but what is more destructive, by the use of phosphorized -oats. I shall say more about the rabbit plague when I come to New -Zealand. - -Amongst other importations made by our colonial cousins which have in -places thriven until they have become a nuisance, may be mentioned -Scotch thistles, briar-bushes, sparrows, and brown trout. Sparrows in -the neighbourhood of Melbourne have at times played sad havoc with the -fruit gardens. The brown trout of Tasmania, which runs up to nine or -ten pounds in weight, although being in itself a fish which is good -for the rod and for the table, is accused of devouring all the other -river fish. As we went along I saw many rapid-running rivers, which -would undoubtedly yield good sport to the angler. Near to Perth we -left the main line, and branched off to the westward. In the distance -to the left were the snow-capped hills of Westmoreland. Many of the -counties in Tasmania are named after those in the old country. For -example, you find a Dorset, a Devon, a Cornwall, and a Pembroke. Some -of the stations on the line were so small that they contrived to exist -without any local officials. At Little Hampton, for instance, the only -persons to be seen were those who got out of our train. Their tickets -were collected by the guard. At Longford and Deloraine I saw nice -towns. After this it became dark, and all that I could make out was -that we were passing through a country where there was a great deal -of bush. The last people I saw were two young ladies walking along -a road running parallel with the railway line. The train was moving -very slowly, and I had my head out of the window. The young ladies -curtseyed, kissed their hands, waved their handkerchiefs at me, and -then exploded in a fit of giggles. I wonder what would have happened -had the train stopped! - -At Latrobe I found that I had to go on one station farther to Fornby, -to catch a mail-coach which would take me to Emu Bay. The ride to Emu -Bay reminded me of my experiences in New England. It was nine p.m. and -dark at the starting, and I had an outside place on the box. Now and -then I could see tall, white-stemmed trees, standing like ghosts in -the midst of paddocks. These are the trees which had been ring-barked -in order to kill them. The road was hilly, and in many places our four -horses seemed to be charging down into a black abyss. At the bottom -of these valleys we usually crossed a river. One of them, I remember, -was called the Forth, and another one the Leven. A great portion of -the road was along the coast, which, as I found out on my return, was -exceedingly pretty. - -It was two a.m. when we reached Emu Bay, and I was benumbed with cold. -The coachman opened a back-door in the hotel, and conducted me to a -box-like bedroom, one bed in which was occupied by a young gentleman, -who woke up and had a conversation with me on the difficulties of -travel. I was too cold to sleep. About five a.m. my companion lighted -a candle, and after spending a considerable time in covering his head -with pomatum, completed his toilet and left me. Shortly after this I -had to rise to catch the train going from Emu Bay up to Waratah, which -is the name of the settlement at Mount Bischoff. The line is a private -one, and is owned by the Tasmanian Land Company, who have bought up -all the land in this part of the colony. There is one train of two -carriages, and perhaps a truck, once a day each way. The general -direction of the line is from the North Coast towards the South, -running right into the heart of the country. Here and there are steep -gradients of about one in forty. The scenery of the bush and valley is -remarkably fine. The bush is much thicker than in Australia. In places -it appeared like a solid wall of green. On all sides as you climb up -you see huge tree-ferns, many of which are twenty to thirty feet in -height. Above these are tall gum trees, whilst beneath them are beds of -common bracken. - -All was white with frost, and the fronds of the ferns in many places -sheltered small pools and ponds of water which were covered with a -thick cake of ice. Tree-ferns helped in carboniferous times to make -the coal. In those times we are told that the climate was warm and -damp, and we are asked to picture to ourselves something like a swamp -in Florida. After what I saw and felt in Tasmania I should say that -it was cold and dry. The probable reason why stems of tree-fern-like -plants are so common in the coal measures as compared with the stems -and branches of ordinary phanerogams, is that the stems of tree-ferns -resist decomposition so remarkably well. - -Some of the gum trees were very large. One stump was pointed out -to me which I was told was twenty-one feet in diameter. The place -for big trees is in Gipps’ Land, in Victoria. Here there are gum -trees 400 feet in height. One tree was measured as being 480 feet in -height; that is to say, it was fourteen feet higher than the spire of -Strasburg Cathedral. I always regretted that I had not time to go up -to the Dandenong ranges where these big trees are growing. As it is, I -was compelled to take all that I have heard about 400-feet trees as -hearsay. - -As the train jogged along, once or twice I noticed a paper parcel fly -past my window. ‘Some fellow having sandwiches for breakfast,’ I said -to myself. At last one huge parcel flew out, struck the bank, and out -of it there rolled a leg of mutton. Then I knew that this was the -method of delivering parcels to the residents up the line. - -We stayed a short time at a place called Hampshire Hill. The township -consisted of two rickety-looking houses. The only inhabitants who made -themselves visible were two fat pigs. All the way up the line the soil -seemed thin and poor. It may perhaps have been very good soil, but I -do not understand such matters. Waratah is a village situated on the -edge of a steep valley at the foot of Mount Bischoff. It is about 2,000 -feet above sea level, and is therefore always cool. The great trouble -is rain. Sometimes it will rain for twenty or thirty days without -ceasing. Possibly Mount Bischoff may have been the scene of some of -Noah’s adventures. At times I was told that the air appeared to become -so rarefied that it was difficult to smoke when going up the mountain. -On my arrival it was fine, and I was told I was lucky in finding it -so. There are two very small hotels. The one I went to was like a -cottage; the bedrooms or sleeping-boxes being up amongst the rafters. -It was impossible to stand upright in my room, excepting in the centre. -There were no mirrors, shiny sideboards and blue vases, as at Emu Bay, -but there were comfortable beds. The bedsteads were of the smallest -description, which is necessary in most parts of the colonies, on -account of the size of the rooms. As a rule I don’t like feather-beds, -but in spite of my prejudices against such old luxuries, when I heard -the rain and sleet beating on the window-panes and roof above me, after -turning in that night, the feather-bed felt comfortable. It seemed to -fit my shape better than a mattress. - -Although the weather at Waratah was considered to be unusually good, -it seemed to me chilly and damp, and I found the open grate and log -fire in the little parlour down below quite acceptable. Here I made the -acquaintance of my host, his family, the domestics, and several of the -residents in Waratah. Everything was extremely homely, and rather than -being a guest at an hotel, you felt that you had been admitted to the -bosom of a family. At meal-time the visitors and the family sit down -together, the maid-servant was called ‘my dear,’ and we all talked with -prismy pruny puckered-up lips. Everything was very old-fashioned and -very nice. - -I spent several days at and about Waratah. One day was filled up with -a stroll over Mount Bischoff. This is a hill about half a mile away -from Waratah, which, so far as examinations have yet gone, appears to -be made up of yellow and red earth, through which blocks and grains -of tin are disseminated. The mine is simply a huge yellow-coloured, -quarry-like excavation in the side of this hill. Running through the -hill there are one or two lodes. To test these lodes, but more with the -object of testing the nature of the hill, shafts have been sunk and -levels have been driven. - -In many places hundreds of tons of pure tin-stone may be picked out. -The bulk of the earthy material which goes to the dressing-floors -contains about two or three per cent. of the ore. At the dressing-works -this is stamped and washed, until it contains from seventy-two to -seventy-five per cent. of the ore, when it is put up in bags and sent -to Launceston to be smelted. - -At the dressing-floors the warm material is stamped, and then -classified according to size. The fine materials and the coarse -materials are then treated separately upon machines called jiggers, -when the rich ore is separated from the poor material. The poor -material then passes through buddles and over revolving tables, where -it undergoes concentration, and more rich material is obtained. To -describe the different machines, and the order in which the material -passes over them, would require the assistance of Mr. Kaiser, the -talented director of these works, who constructed them. To me they -appeared to be the most perfect dressing-works I saw in the colonies. - -The last evening that I spent at Waratah, my hostess, who was -entertaining a few visitors, insisted on my learning the game of -euchre. Euchre, nap and cribbage are the games of the colonies. I was -very stupid at learning, but when it came to me to deal I accidentally -obtained for myself Ace, King, the right and left Bower, and the Joker. -For the rest of the evening I felt that I was regarded as a doubtful -character. - -On my way back to Emu Bay, I had the company of a reverend Catholic -Father. I found him a good-natured, amusing gentleman. - -‘Do you object to smoking, sir?’ said I, shortly after I was seated. - -‘Do I object to smoking? faith, give me one of your cigarettes and I’ll -show you how much I object,’ was the reply. - -The result of all this was that we smoked and talked until we reached -our journey’s end. He told me a great deal about the land, and the -difficulties which settlers had to contend against. All about here the -only animal which gives trouble is the tiger-cat. This is more foxy -in its face than feline. It has a trick of breaking through the sides -and roofs of buildings in search of hams and other provisions. After -this I heard a great deal about large gum trees, and the sassafras, -an infusion from the bark of which yields a valuable tonic, and other -things which I have now forgotten. When we parted, we did so with the -hope of again meeting, if not on earth, at least in heaven. This is how -my companion put it. - -At Emu Bay I fell in with a young engineer who was superintending the -building of a pier, to accommodate the steamers and other boats which -occasionally ply between Emu Bay and Melbourne. Talking of steamers, -not long ago I had a conversation with an engineering friend who had -just started in his profession in London. Knowing how difficult it is -for an engineer to make headway in these days of competition, I asked -him how he was ‘getting on.’ - -‘Oh, splendidly, splendidly,’ said he; ‘working on a pier 200 -feet long.’ This was a capital beginning I thought, and offered -congratulations on such a successful commencement in the great city. -‘Ah, yes,’ continued he, ‘I’m--well, I’m putting twenty feet on to the -end of it.’ - -I did not make further inquiries, for I might have been told that it -was a gangway or a plank that he was supplying to connect the end of -the 200 feet with the decks of steamers. - - -The Story of a Post-Box. - -During the evening I heard an animated discussion between several of -the Emu Bay residents about the disgraceful manner in which they had -been treated by the postal authorities in that district. ‘You know,’ -said one of them, ‘the behaviour of that old woman they’ve made into -post-mistress ought to be reported. The hardest work these post-masters -and post-mistresses have to do is when they get out of bed to draw -their pay. They don’t care for us not a bit. Why, they won’t do -anything on Sundays. When the “brake” comes along at night, why, the -driver has to stop his horses, and take a lamp and sort the mails for -himself.’ That this accusation had some truth in it I can vouch from my -own experience, for over and over again I have had to hold the reins of -the horses while the coachman was manipulating a heap of letter-bags, -which he found in a box outside the post-office. At night-time, when -it was freezing and blowing, I found this very trying. No doubt the -coachman found it more so. - -Here a defender of the postal authorities gained a hearing by reference -to the poorness of their pay. - -‘How can you expect anybody to do anything when they get nothing for -doing it?’ he remarked. - -‘Ah, but remember that new post-box we had--that one down at the -corner. Why, it was perfectly scandalous. When it was put up I stuck a -letter in it for Tom Gadesden, down at the Leven, asking him about some -horses he had to sell. As Tom didn’t write back I sent another, which I -knew was posted because I put it in myself. Still there was no answer. -Three days afterwards Tom came up here, and I asked him if he was short -of ink and paper down at the Leven. “What do you mean?” says he. “Well, -I mean I made you an offer for them two colts you had,” says I. “Did -you?” says he; “the colts is sold, and I never seed any offer from -you.” That set me asking, and I found that there was a lot of people -who had been posting in that box and their letters had never arrived. -You remember, Bill,’ said the speaker, pointing to one of the company, -‘you lost a letter in that box?’ - -‘Quite true,’ says Bill, nodding his head. - -‘So I went to ask the post-mistress how it was, that when we posted -letters at Emu Bay folks never got them--you ought to have heard the -pow-wow that went on in that office. She bristled up like a porcupine, -and said I had accused her of stealing people’s letters--she’d report -me to Launceston. “If ever I’d posted the letters they went in the bag -with the rest of the letters; and what did I mean going about trying to -take away a poor old woman’s character?” After that she called me all -the names she could lay her tongue to, and finished off by bursting out -crying. I can tell you I was sorry that I’d been to make inquiries. I -expected every minute she would have jumped at me and clawed my hair. - -‘Well, after that I didn’t know what to do. It got noised round that -I’d been slandering the old woman down at the post-office, and people -were saying I ought to be ashamed of myself. - -‘All that I could do was to prove I was right, and after me and six or -seven of my mates talking it over--it was in this very room--we agreed -to post a newspaper to one another, and then see if we got them. Well, -next night, after it had got nearly dark--for we didn’t want it to be -known what we were after--we all went each of us with eight papers -tied in a handkerchief up to the box. You know we were then quite sure -that the papers had been posted. That was sixty-four papers we put in, -do you see? The night after we all met, and what do you think?--Well, -there wasn’t a hanged one of us had ever received a paper. - -‘That there was something wrong in the postal regulations at Emu Bay -was pretty certain. Jones suggested that the post-box might have a -hole in the bottom, and a tiger-cat or something had chawed the papers -up. But as the box was bran-new, most of us thought the old woman was -collaring the stamps, but none of us dare say so, and I am certain that -there was not one of us durst go and tell her so. - -‘“Let’s try once again,” was a suggestion which met with general -approval. To be quite sure that all the papers were posted, we all -went again in a lump to the box. I’ll never forgot that night; it was -raining and blowing a bit. Six of us had shoved our papers in, and Bob -bad got two of his in, when he says, “Why, hang it, the blessed box -is full!” “Full?” says we. “Yes, full,” says he--and I’m blowed if it -wasn’t full. Do what we could, no more papers would go in. We could -take two or three out, but it was no good trying to get any more in--it -was just chock-a-block. - -‘Suddenly Bill says, “I don’t think the box has ever been cleared.” And -that was just it. There was we posting and posting for three weeks, at -a box that was never cleared. When they opened it they found our 114 -papers and about 200 letters and parcels. - -‘We felt such fools about that box and our 114 papers that we daren’t -say much--but I think the old woman might have put up a notice that the -box wasn’t working.’ - - * * * * * - -I returned from Emu Bay to Latrobe by the same road as that on which -I had come. The essential difference between the two journeys was, -that while one had been performed during the night, and without any -particular incidents, the return journey was performed during the day, -and was accompanied by an incident known to colonials as being ‘stuck -up.’ - -When I got up to start on this journey it was quite dark, and the -rain was pouring down in bucketfuls. Before we were under way day had -dawned, and the rain had changed to a cold drizzle. The coach was of -the ordinary type; that is to say, very like an old stagecoach or a -modern drag. I was the only passenger, and sat outside with the driver, -who had before him a spiked team--or in other words, a leader and two -pole-horses. The driver was a young man of some eighteen summers, and, -as I subsequently discovered, was learning his profession. For the -first eight miles or so, which we ran in an hour, everything went along -satisfactorily. The scenery was charming, the pace of the horses good, -and the only thing to complain about was the drizzle and the cold. -Shortly, however, the road became hilly, and the horses, which had -hitherto run remarkably well, suddenly became obstinate, and, in spite -of the thrashing administered to them by the driver, they refused to -move. In time, young Jehu’s arm became tired, and there was no help for -it but to descend and let me take the reins, while he encouraged them -and ran by their side. The result of this was that the horses started -off, leaving Jehu behind, and leaving me in charge of the coach. With -the help of the brake I eventually stopped them, but no sooner had Jehu -mounted on the box than they again refused to move. There was no help -for it but for him to descend once more and let me take control. - -This method of intermittent progress was clearly unsatisfactory, and -something different must be attempted. - -‘I’ll change a pole-horse for the leader,’ said Jehu. - -After half an hour or so this was accomplished; but no sooner did Jehu -attempt to drive them, than such violent kicking and rearing took place -that we felt ourselves in danger either of rolling over a precipice, or -else having the coach kicked to pieces. - -Jehu was fast getting exhausted. ‘The mails are on board, and what -shall I do?’ said he, wiping his forehead. - -‘Turn the leader adrift, and let him run loose in front. Two horses can -surely drag us two and an empty coach,’ I suggested. - -This was done, and away we went splendidly, the leader running about -fifty or a hundred yards ahead, and the two in the coach trying to -overtake him. At last we came to cottages on the outskirts of the -village of Penrhyn. The people seeing a horse running free, turned out -in force to stop him. This stopped the coach, and we had to explain our -troubles before the leader was turned loose and we could proceed. The -inhabitants of Penrhyn appeared to be highly amused at the device. Some -two or three miles farther on, the leader had gone ahead so far that -it was out of sight, and then to our horror the two horses refused to -move. Whip, coax, pull, lead--it was all in vain. There we were with -the bush on one side, a cliff and the sea on the other side, and no -house within miles--‘stuck up.’ I pitied poor Jehu. He almost wept. - -‘It can’t be helped; we shall miss the train at Latrobe, and the mails -will be a day late.’ - -The chief thing he thought about was the mails. The chief thing I -thought about was myself. He would walk on to the next station for -assistance, if I would look after the coach. After he had gone, I tried -to coax the horses by holding a bunch of grass before them. All that -they would do was to stretch out their necks and get the grass, but -they would not move a foot. As they seemed to have become petrified, I -got inside the coach, and lighted a pipe. - -While I was devising means to induce the horses to move, a farmer -came along the road with a cart and a team of three big cart-horses. -Of course he stopped to have a conversation, and at the end of it -suggested that if the pole of the coach were tied to the tail of his -cart, my two horses would have to move. The idea was splendid, and in -less than ten minutes I was sitting on the box steering the mail-coach -behind the farmer’s cart. How far we went I do not know, but we were -travelling along slowly when we were met by Jehu and an ostler with a -fresh team of horses. I expect the towing of the mail-coach will be a -joke for some time to come. - -We reached Latrobe at about two p.m. The last part of the journey was -over ground which was flat and swampy. Of course we were too late for -the coach which drives to catch the train at Deloraine, and I made up -my mind for a quiet afternoon and a night’s rest at Latrobe. Latrobe -is a small country town of one street. Its usual dulness was somewhat -increased by all the shops having their shutters partially closed, -the reason being that a woman had died. A tobacconist told me that -he didn’t know who she was, but the shutters would be kept up until -she was buried. At one time you might see two persons and a dog in -the street. The quiet melancholy of a country town in the old country -pervaded not only the street, but even the interior of the hotel. In -one shop I saw penny whistles, apples, cakes, peg-tops, and articles -of ‘sterling silver,’ all together. I had plenty of opportunity to -study my hotel. If I remember rightly, sanded floors, gaudy pictures -representing hunting scenes and the seasons, a lot of advertisements -and leather-covered seats, formed the chief feature in the room where I -spent the evening. In a vase there was a bunch of artificial flowers. -These are invariably of the same kind, and if you give a leaf a knock, -the whole plant whirls round in the flower-pot, at once destroying any -impression it may have made on you as to its reality. The pictures -which you see in small hotels are reproductions of what you see in -small hotels at home. Among the favourites were fox-hunting scenes, -which usually included a man in a red coat holding up a fox, while -a lot of dogs were yelping around him; one or two steeplechases; a -picture of the Derby; a soldier on horseback while sticking a man -through the throat was carrying off a standard; one or two scenes -from farmyards; the village Maypole; a few pictures of racehorses, -all of which to the uninitiated looked pretty much alike; dignity and -impudence looking out of a barrel; the death of Nelson; and a large -collection of the worst type of German lithographs, amongst which were -the royal family sitting in a semi-circle, and the Prince and Princess -of Wales, a ball of wool and a puppy-dog. - -Speaking generally, every picture was a reproduction of what you see -in the old country, and I do not remember seeing a single picture of -anything colonial. - -In the evening I listened to a discussion as to the relative merits -of loo, euchre and poker. A local paper, referring to the ship which -had brought me to Tasmania, remarked that ‘Tasmanians interested in -sheep-farming will be glad to learn that the steamship _Flinders_ has -safely landed 250 fine stud sheep; there were also some Tasmanian -officials on board.’ Not being able to make out the connection between -the sheep and the officials, I went to bed. - -The ride back to Launceston was more pleasant than the ride up had -been. We started before seven a.m. At eight a.m. the sun appeared above -the hills, and the hoar-frost began to disappear as clouds of mist. -Every tree and flower and haystack smoked as if it was on fire. As far -as Deloraine the country on either hand was chiefly an impenetrable -bush; beyond that we were again back amongst the ferns and yellow furze. - -That evening I spent in Launceston, being entertained by a number of -gentlemen, who told me many stories about the great Bischoff. It had -been discovered by a man named Smith. - -Smith was a man who liked, and I believe still likes, to hide himself -in the almost impenetrable Tasmanian bush. The way in which he lived -necessitated his spending much of his time in thinking, rather than in -talking, and he was therefore called Philosopher Smith. Philosopher -Smith is generous and crotchety. He gave many of his shares in his -discovery away, and finally, disgusted with the system in which the -mine was being managed, eventually threw up his connection with it. -Now he is not the millionaire he might have been. Not long ago the -Tasmanian Government voted him a small pension for the benefits he had -conferred on the colony by his discovery. Mr. Smith, however, I was -told, rejected their offer. He deserves a good big pension, and if -Tasmanians don’t give it to him, they ought to be ashamed of themselves. - -Other people behaved very differently. Some of the lucky shareholders -drew from £250 to £300 every three weeks. One man who in three weeks -drew £3,000, just to show that he had a soul above worldly dross, -bought an organ and a monkey, with which he amused people in the -streets. How long he continued at this self-imposed employment I was -not told. Another man was so inflated with the importance he expected -to derive from his riches, that he imagined himself a duke, and gave -birth to a drawl. - -The usual way of reaching Hobart is by rail from Launceston. The -scenery on the line is said to be very fine, and I regret that I did -not see it. I reached Hobart direct from Melbourne. On this occasion -Bass Straits had put on their best behaviour. The sun was shining and -the sea was smooth. Weather of this sort would induce many to become -sailors. The profession of navigators would be ruined by numbers, and -what would a captain do then, poor thing? It was God’s weather. At the -north end of Tasmania we saw many rocky islands. These islands have the -same general character as the eastern coast of Tasmania itself, which -is high and mountainous. - -It was a cold, clear, fine morning when we entered the beautiful -harbour of Hobart. I forgot to say that the people in Sydney when they -wave their hand across their harbour, tell you that it would afford -anchorage for all the navies in the world. I should think that the -harbour at Hobart might do the same. - -In all directions there are high hills to be seen. Some of these rise -from the edge of the waters. The summits are rocky, and many of them -were covered with snow. The highest is Mount Wellington. This is at the -head of the harbour, and overlooks the town of Hobart. Between these -hills there are many small bays and smaller hills covered with gums. -On the lowest slopes green fields and farmhouses are visible. Over all -these combinations of mountain, crag, snow, forest, grass slopes and -water, there was a bluish haze, like a film of gauze. - -At last we landed, and at once commenced our explorations. The streets -are broad and well laid out. Here and there are some fine buildings. -One is a museum, others are Government offices, and many are, -naturally, the banks. One of the busiest streets, where there were a -few people and some good shops, is called Liverpool Street. In the -other streets all is quiet. Now and then a foot-passenger pauses to -look at you, and makes you feel that you are a new chum. The cabs, some -of which are curious arrangements like milk-carts, stand in rows. Dogs -sleep upon the pavement. All is sunshine, cleanliness, and quiet. The -houses in the suburbs face the street like so many antiquated walls -with rectangular orifices for doors and windows. The brass door-handles -shine like mirrors. The polishing has gone on so long until the paint -around them in the wood-work has been worn away. Even a little brook -that at one time babbled through the town has been constrained. A brook -bustling along over an untidy gravel bed would be out of place in -tidy little Hobart. It now runs over a concrete bed, something like a -pipe. Poor little stream, even you have been compelled to change your -clamorous nature. - -At the corners of the streets there are neatly painted notices hung -upon the lamp-posts--‘Keep to the right,’ ‘Walk round the corners.’ -What a satire to treat orderly Hobart like a Fleet Street! - -Although Hobart is so quiet, its very quietness gives to it a charm -that makes me wish to be one of its inhabitants. About twelve o’clock -I saw a little excitement in one of the main streets which I ought -not to omit to mention. This was a football-match between a number of -shop-boys. I watched it with considerable interest. In the afternoon -I paid a shilling to enter a Juvenile Industrial Exhibition. Inside I -found that I was in a Poultry Show. There were a great many cocks and -hens. Nearly all of them had received a first prize, a second prize, -or a certificate of merit. Some of them were interesting on account -of their size and the nature of their feathers. One old rooster had -feathers down his legs like trousers. This gave him an appearance -of great stability. Some of his neighbours seemed to have very thin -legs as compared with their bodies, which were unusually large. With -the amount of standing they have to do, these latter must often feel -very tired. All the cocks were crowing and the hens were clucking. -The pigeons were in great force. There were Jacobins, runts, rollers, -fantails, Antwerps, baldheads, Hamburgs, carriers, and a variety of -others, the names of which can only be found in special treatises on -this order of birds. - -There were also a great number of parrots, which in true parrot fashion -were looking preternaturally wise. The rest of the building was filled -up with sausages, masses of brawn, corpses of animals like pigs and -sheep, of cadaverous heads of cows, cheese, pots of yellow butter, and -canaries. - -To me the dead animals, which helped to give the place a -charnel-house-like smell, were very horrible. - -The farmers, with their wives and daughters, appeared to find something -very attractive in the exhibition. If I had been brought up as a -butcher, the scraped pigs, covered with rosettes and holding apples in -their mouths, might have been more beautiful than a Turner landscape. - -The Museum was more interesting, as it contained many relics and -drawings of the now extinct aboriginals of Tasmania. - - * * * * * - -At this point in my travels I said good-bye to Peter Dodd and -the Major, who went to India, or somewhere, and I picked up new -acquaintances whom I will presently introduce. - - - - -_NEW ZEALAND; OR, THE LAND OF THE MAORIS AND MOAS._ - - -Japan and New Zealand are in many respects reflections of each other. -The northern island of New Zealand corresponds in position and shape -to Yezo, while the southern island is like the main island of this -country. Nemuro is represented by Auckland, Hakodate by Wellington, -Yokohama and Tokyo by Lyttelton and Christchurch, and Nagasaki by -Dunedin. I ought to be paid for this suggestion, for it saves the -buying of an atlas. - -The northern island of New Zealand is the chief centre for the -aboriginal Maoris, just as Yezo is the home of the aboriginal Aino. -The mountains of New Zealand, like those of Japan, are chiefly on the -western side of the island, and it is on this side of both countries -that there is the greatest precipitation of rain and snow. Mount Cook, -the highest mountain in New Zealand, is approximately the same height -as Fujisan, the highest mountain in Japan. In both countries there are -earthquakes, volcanoes, and hot springs, and each is equally celebrated -for its beautiful scenery. In these and other respects New Zealand -and Japan have a close resemblance to each other. That two distant -countries should have so many points in common is certainly very -remarkable. As with other countries, there are naturally many points -of dissimilarity. New Zealand has an enormous foreign debt, a small -population; it is a country practically without a history, and if we -except the birds, a rat, a bat, and a lizard, it is without vertebrate -animals. In all these and other respects Japan is exactly the reverse -of New Zealand. Notwithstanding all this, the similarities between -these two countries are so abnormally great that the attention of a -resident in either of these lands cannot fail to have his attention -attracted to them. Of course, neither New Zealand nor Japan are like -Africa or Patagonia. For these reasons, and from the fact that many old -residents from this country have settled in New Zealand, I venture to -give an account of what I saw and did in that country. My notes in many -instances may be taken _cum grano salis_. - -My experience with New Zealand commenced on board the ship which took -me to that country. This was one of the Union Steamship Company’s -boats, which practically hold the monopoly of the New Zealand trade. -I sailed from Melbourne _viâ_ Hobart. The larger of these boats are -continually making circular trips from Melbourne to the Bluff and -Dunedin, round the New Zealand ports, to Auckland and Sydney, and then -back to Melbourne; or else, commencing at Sydney, they circulate in -the opposite direction. The smaller boats trade hither and thither -along the coast of New Zealand. The Union Company has done much for -New Zealand, and New Zealand has done much for the Union Company. If -you take a ticket for the round trip, which lasts about twenty days, -you pay £21, or about £1 per day; but if you take a trip between -two coast ports, only a few hours distant, you may pay £2 or £3. -Some of the boats are extremely nice in their arrangements, having -electric lights, a fair supply of bathing accommodation, and all the -fixings and appliances found in modern steamships. Some go so far as -Thomson’s sounders and compasses. It was sometimes interesting to hear -discussions on these instruments. One day in the smoking-room, a naval -officer was talking with one of the ship’s officers about Sir William’s -inventions. - -‘Oh,’ said the man of war, ‘I know Sir William. Once I was staying -at a house, and they told me there was a very clever man coming. You -wouldn’t think much of him to look at. One of these old men with specs. -But he can do anything, you know. Want a compass? He just takes a bit -of paper and a pencil and invents the best compass ever made; and -does it all with _x_, you know. All the same with the sounder. Want -a good electric light--and he does it with _x_ again, you know. He -can’t do ordinary rule of three and that sort of thing. When he went -to America to calculate about the electric cable, he took an old man -to do his sums for him. The only time he is happy is when he is making -fiddle-holes or chasing.’ - -This information, coming as it did from the commander of a ship in the -British navy, carried some authority, and was received with silence and -respect. - -The day after we left Hobart, where we picked up a few passengers, -we had a beam sea, which caused many of the passengers to seek the -seclusion that a cabin grants. Next morning it was bright and -sunshiny, and as the sea was more aft, the motion of the ship was a -little less. One or two of us indulged in games of quoits, sometimes -throwing them on pegs and sometimes into numbered squares chalked on -the deck. Behind us there was always a flock of albatross, molly-hawks, -and other sea-birds, on the look-out for the leavings of the table. -These companions, which often flew close above our heads, were quite -an interesting study. One great difficulty was to understand how they -managed to fly so fast, and this with little or no apparent motion of -their wings. We were going at a rate of at least ten knots per hour, -and yet from the way in which our feathered friends circled about, and -yet kept up to us, they must have gone at ten or twenty times the rate -at which we were going. All that they appeared to do was to balance -themselves and gently tip their wings up or down--there was no violent -flapping, such as crows go in for when they wish to move. The albatross -were very tame, and would often fly right over our decks until they -appeared to be poised a few yards above our heads. Their build is the -ordinary seagull pattern--a huge white body in shape like a soda-water -bottle, furnished with two enormous angel-like pinions. MacTavish said -that you could often see changes in the expression of their faces. When -the dinner-bell sounded they would come charging up from all points of -the horizon and arrange themselves astern, ready to pounce on the first -fragments thrown from the rich company’s table. At these times we had -the best view of our friends, and you could hear the big ones clucking, -and now and then detect a little smile. They knew that they must keep -pretty close, or some of the relics from the kitchen might sink. I -suggested to Mac that the _menu_ ought to be thrown over a few minutes -ahead of the breakfast. The molly-hawks would certainly be grateful, -and the Union Company would Buddhistically be doing a good turn. If -the theory of Pythagoras is true, the directors of the U.S.S. Co. may -be turned into molly-hawks themselves when they die; and if they are, -they will regret not having instituted this charitable custom. I do -not think that captains and officers of the ships will ever become -molly-hawks. They are too good. But the directors of a company who, in -their scramble for dross, do not hesitate to have four sea-sick people -crammed into a small cabin, ought certainly to prepare themselves for a -hard time in the future. But more about molly-hawks and the directors -of steamship companies by-and-by. I must here tell you that MacTavish, -or, as I shall often call him, Mac, was a Scotchman from South Africa -on a trip to see the colonies. As we did not know each other’s names, -when we first met at dinner, a funny little man, who had seen more -of London or Paris than Scotland, suggested names for the company. -MacTavish was one of these names. MacTougal and MacAlister were two -others. I was called the Major, and a quiet dignified gentleman with -a black moustache, who was my neighbour, was known as the Colonel. In -return, our black little friend, who some remarked might have seen more -of Palestine than Scotland, was called MacCallum More. He was a lively -fellow, and in spite of the weather kept us amused. I liked MacCallum. - -The reason that we had so many Scotch names was that about half the -passengers were really Scotchmen, and we were going to Southern New -Zealand, which is Scotch in its looks, Scotch in its climate, and has -a population of Macs. From what I shall say about parts of it, it will -be seen that it is a country where only cast-iron Scotchmen, and a -few other human abnormalities, could thrive. Not long ago tenders for -a Government contract were handed in to the authorities at a town in -the south end of New Zealand. The one accepted was from a Mr. John -MacDougal. When Mr. John MacDougal turned up, he was found to be a -Chinaman. ‘But how is this, John?’ said the authorities; ‘you are a -Chinaman.’ ‘You callee me John, and s’pose I no talkee Mac, no can -catchee contract this side,’ was John’s reply. The Macs are certainly a -powerful clan in their new home. - -As we went surging along, one by one, new faces appeared at the top of -the companion. Many of them had a blue bonnet above them. Those who -hadn’t blue bonnets faintly smiled, and then retired again. - -On the evening of the second day it was blowing harder than ever. -Sails had to be taken in, and we went along through a seething sea in -the dark. How ever Captain Cook found New Zealand is a mystery. If -an angel had told me where it was, I don’t think I would have gone -to look for it; the irregularities of the approaches to New Zealand -are too unpleasant. It has often been remarked that you do not get -sufficient exercise on board ships; your liver gets out of order, and -you may suffer dyspepsia. On our ship we certainly had considerable -exercise--not so much of the muscles which come into play when walking, -as with those which are used when holding on. When a man goes to New -Zealand, and it is rough, he ought to have claws and long toe-nails. -Rubber shoes, with patent soles for suction, might be good, but claws, -toe-nails, or spiked boots, would perhaps be better. - -I had a great deal of exercise in picking up convalescents. One heap -which I sorted consisted of two ladies, a Yank, two ’possum-rugs and -some pillows, several chairs, a couple of cups of beef-tea, sundry -biscuits, a cockatoo, and a lot of bird-seed. This helped me to make -friends with the ladies. I always like ladies to be just a leetle -sea-sick. It gives you a chance of being agreeable. I shall have more -to say about the Yank. He was very droll, and did a little to remind -the officers of the U.S.S. Co. that their directors had failings. -While talking about the inmates of our village, for a Union boat is -always like an overcrowded floating hamlet, I must not forget our -worthy skipper--Captain Popham. Captain Popham was a big man, and he -was never sea-sick; I don’t think he could be sea-sick. He had a good -square head, he wouldn’t stand humbug, and he was always pleasant -and agreeable. I used to sit with Popham when all the rest had fled. -Sometimes he would be raised up about ten feet, and would be looking -down at me. On these occasions I was able to read the inscription on -the bottom of Popham’s soup-plate. The next moment I would be up ten -feet, and looking down on Popham. On these occasions I had to hold -my soup-plate edgeways up, as if it had been a mirror in which I was -examining my back teeth. Everybody liked Popham, and voted him a good -man. There was one exception, however. This was a sea-sick Blue -Ribbonite. Blue Ribbon’s occupation, when not engaged with a bucket, -was to bemoan the immorality of the world. Edinburgh was his pet -aversion. ‘Eh, mon, there are nae bigger slums than in Edinboro. It’s a -fearful place.’ Now and again he would try and convert the ship to Blue -Ribbonism. - -By perseverance he managed to stir up a little animosity before he left -us. One Sunday, between his fits of indisposition, whilst prowling -round the ship, he seems to have discovered four passengers playing -cards in one of the ship’s cabins, which he promptly reported to -the captain. As the captain either did not, or else would not, know -anything of the matter, Blue Ribbon promised to report him to the -directors for non-attention to duty--he spent too much time talking -to the ladies on the quarter-deck instead of attending to his duty. -Poor Popham! We supposed Blue Ribbon wanted him to be either reefing -topsails or else snuffing round passengers’ cabins. - -The first sight of New Zealand in winter weather was not very inviting. -Here and there were black cast-iron-looking rocks, their summits capped -with clouds, and their bases fringed with foam. After this we rounded -some rough-edged hills, covered with scraggy scrub and dripping rocks. -This was the entrance to the Bluff. There were no trees. Scotchmen -can live beyond the limit of trees. At the head of the bay near to -the waters, there were a few paddocks, two or three cottages, and -clumps of yellow furze. It was so like bonny Scotland, especially the -canopy of fog. You felt that you were on one of the selvages of the -habitable world, and that just behind the hills you might find the -eternal snows of the Antarctic regions. The end of the bay was like -the edge of a Scotch moor with a wharf on the shore of a loch. Matters -certainly looked a little brighter as the day advanced, and the dull -appearance of the Bluff, for it certainly was as bleak as Orkney when -I saw it, may have been due partly to the weather, and partly to my -indisposition. One indication that the Bluff may at times be bright and -shiny, was a number of little bungalows, which I was told were summer -retreats for the Invercargillites. There were also several hotels, and, -of course, a place of worship. - -Here MacTavish, MacCallum More, and several of the other Macs, and -myself, took train for Invercargill. The first part of the country was -very marshy, and was covered with great green bushes, called Ti-trees, -and tussocks of grass, any bunch of which would hide a herd of cattle. -There were a number of plants like flags. These a New Zealander, who -gave us much information about the country, whom for variety I will -call Robinson, told us were the New Zealand flax. The Maoris made bags -and string out of it, but Europeans had not yet invented the proper -method of making it clean. The bunches of flax were about as big as the -tussocks of grass. Now and again we saw some tame-looking birds, with -red legs and blue heads, like guinea-fowls. They simply looked at the -train, and either couldn’t or else wouldn’t fly away. Robinson said -that they would fly quickly enough if we went after them with a gun. -A lot of the New Zealand birds, however, are unable to fly. In this -respect they resemble their predecessors, which together constituted -the family of Moas. Robinson said that some of the Moas were forty -feet high, and in speed could eclipse the winner of the Melbourne Cup. -Sometimes they would breakfast at Invercargill and then trot off 565 -miles north to the plains of Canterbury for their dinner. Their eggs -weighed fifty-six pounds. They were all dead now, and globe-trotters -often felt disappointed at not getting any sport amongst these animals. -As I don’t believe all that Robinson said, I will reserve my own -observations on these remarkable birds until I come to the place where -I interviewed their remains. I will then tell you the truth. - -A curious bird that still exists is the Maori hen, or the Weka. From -its simplicity it might be called the ‘Weak’un.’ It suffers from -inquisitiveness. If you clap two sticks together, it will come to -investigate the reason of the disturbance. To catch it, you place -a bit of red rag on one stick and a noose on the other. While the -‘Weak’un’ is picking at the red rag on one stick you put the noose on -the other stick round its neck. This sounds like the salt dodge, and -although you may not believe it, it is perfectly true. Another bird--a -hairy-looking beast called the Kiwi--suffers from sleeplessness, and -therefore has become a night-walker. There are lots of these birds in -the streets of London. A charming pet for a farmyard is the Kiau. This -dear little bird has retained its powers of flight. Its chief amusement -is to sit on the back of a sheep and pick out its kidneys. It is a -wonderful anatomist, and never fails in striking the spot where it will -obtain its favourite morsel. After the operation the sheep invariably -die, and the kiau flies off to another little lamb to institute a new -investigation. - -Everywhere in New Zealand, as in all the South Sea Islands, there are -wild pigs. All of these, or at least their ancestors, were brought out -by Captain Cook. - -‘I don’t believe it,’ said MacTavish; ‘he would have required Noah’s -Ark.’ After this, whenever Mac saw a pig, he used to call out, ‘Hello! -there goes Captain Cook.’ - -Invercargill is a nice town, with one large wide street lined with -good buildings and furnished with tramcars. We saw it at its worst, -for it was drizzling, and the roads were wet and muddy. One puzzle to -a stranger in Invercargill was how so small a place could support such -enormous stores and shops. That all of them did not pay was clear from -an advertisement we saw. It was in big letters, and ran as follows: - - ‘Great Bankrupt. - - ‘Certified copy of telegram. - - ‘Creditors have accepted your offer of 8s. 8d. in the pound. - Amount, £2,627 12s. 6d. - - ‘(Signed) J. R. and S. M.’ - -After this followed sheets of advertisements about the low price at -which you could purchase various articles. If ever I start a store at -Invercargill I shall sell rubber boots, mackintoshes and umbrellas. -Over the door I shall write ‘Great Bankrupt Compulsory Sale.’ - -As the climate was against an investigation of the suburbs, MacTavish -and MacCallum More found a place where they could play billiards with -tipless cues, while I went off in search of a museum I had been told -about. - -‘It’s at the Athenæum,’ said my informant. ‘It isn’t much of a place -just yet--only commencing. You’ll find it very interesting. The second -door in the third block.’ - -I found it without difficulty; and as future visitors to Invercargill -may possibly like to read up special works on its exhibits, I give the -following catalogue of everything I saw: - - No. 1. was the skull of a gigantic cetacean. This was in the - hall. Before examining this remarkable relic, students may with - advantage refresh their memories by again referring to the - terrible trials of the adventurous Jonah. - - No. 2. Two frowsy deer in a glass case. These were in a passage - upstairs. The attitude of these animals reminds you of the - well-known Psalm: ‘As pants the hart for cooling streams.’ - - No. 3. A mangy marsupial, probably from Australia. This - interesting specimen is near the frowsy deer. The skin of this - creature, which in every respect, bar building nests and laying - eggs, is a connecting link between the sheep and the ostrich, - cannot fail to impress the thoughtful visitor that moth and - rust corrupt the treasures which we lay up for ourselves on - earth. - -A special catalogue of this interesting and valuable collection has not -previously been printed. The council of the institution are at liberty -to reprint my notes in full. Although I have written the catalogue -from memory, I must say that I have often had greater difficulty in -remembering the contents of a shark’s stomach. I trust that there are -no mistakes. - -When I meet the gentleman who sent me through the rain to interview -these treasures, it would be well if he had either a suit of armour, or -else a bottle of arnica, or other preparation for the relief of bruises. - -From Invercargill we went by train to Kingston, on Lake Wakatipu. The -whole journey was, on account of the drizzly, mizzly, foggy, sleety, -snowy weather, a failure. The Alps of New Zealand in summer-time may -be enjoyable, but in winter they are about as enjoyable as the Arctic -regions. Polar bears might like the trip, but it was even too much for -Scotchmen. The first part of the journey was over swampy brown plains. -Here and there are a few farms and furze fences. The bush we saw was -of a very scraggy second-class description. The trees were stunted, -weather-beaten, covered with moss, and half dead. Beneath them was a -tangle of impenetrable scrub. Mixed in with the latter are tangles of a -vine-like plant called a lawyer, the underside of the leaves of which -are fish-hook-like thorns. It looks innocent, but it is a fearful plant -when it seizes you. I can’t say more, or the profession might institute -an action for libel. The only cheering sight in the murky landscape was -the yellow bushes of furze. There was also a little pleasure derived -from the absence of the monotonous Australian gums. At a place called -Lumsden, big mountains came in sight, the more distant of which were -white with snow. With the exception of a tropical-looking plant called -a cabbage palm, the trees had disappeared. On the hillsides we saw -thousands of rabbits. At one small station we saw a professional -rabbiter with a pack of some twenty dogs, and a horse loaded with -rabbit-skins. A rabbiter may get about twopence for each rabbit-skin. -In the market these skins are worth from 1s. to 1s. 10d. per lb., and -there are about eight skins to a pound. At one station of 80,000 acres -near Lumsden, they employed about 500 dogs, and caught about 300,000 -rabbits per year. The total export of rabbit-skins from New Zealand -amounts to several millions per year. In 1881, 8,514,685 skins, valued -at £84,744, were exported. - -On the day the first rabbit was let loose in this part of the country, -a great dinner was given to commemorate the successful introduction of -this useful little animal. Shortly after this a law was passed for the -protection of Bunny, whereby it was enacted that any person shooting a -rabbit should be fined--I think Mac said £20. Now the law is that the -man who does not shoot Bunny, but protects and cherishes him, is the -person who is fined. Half the time of the Colonial legislators is spent -in considering how Bunny shall be dealt with. This year the Queensland -Government made a special appropriation of £100,000 to carry on the -rabbit warfare. As a war was imminent with Russia, the same Government -considered that the taxation might be increased £90,000. How indignant -Russians ought to feel if they knew that they had to play second fiddle -to a parcel of rabbits. But what is to be done with Bunny? Bunny in the -Colonies is different to Bunny in the home country. In the Colonies -he can climb walls, run up hollow trees, and swim creeks. Instead of -breeding like the proverbial rabbit, he changes his home habits and -breeds all the year round. He begins when he is six months old, and -continues until he dies. - -Any respectable rabbit ought to be ashamed of such a family tree. - -One small army of rabbits having started, they breed larger and larger -armies at an increasing rate, which advance like a browsing herd. - -‘The rabbits are coming’ is a more alarming cry for the owners of a -station than any cry about a Russian invasion. - -In the Cape a question about the vine grub (Phylloxera) threw out -a Government. Rabbits not legislated for would throw out forty -Governments in the Colonies. The Rabbit Nuisance Act of New Zealand -is against poor Bunny, but protects tiger-cats, stoats, ferrets, the -mongoose, native cats, and other vermin, the value of which is doubtful. - -In some districts foxes have been introduced to destroy rabbits, but it -is found that Reynard very quickly develops a taste for young sheep. -Weasels and the ichneumon (mongoose) have also been tried, but it is -feared that they may increase like the rabbits, and it is known that -weasels, when in numbers, will even sometimes attack men and horses. In -the Auckland district rabbits have died out partly by natural causes, -a disease called tuberculosis having broken out amongst them. This -has led to the idea that a few rabbits might be inoculated with an -infectious disease, and then turned loose. Pasteur might be consulted -on this point. One way of getting them out of their holes is to smoke -them out with the fumes of certain chemicals ejected by a fan. The -ordinary methods of destruction are, to use phosphorized oats (which -unfortunately kill pheasants and other valuable game), to trap, to -hunt with dogs, and to shoot. To keep back an approaching invasion, -wire-netting partly sunk obliquely in the ground has proved good, -and Government and private individuals have put up lengths of such -barricading only comparable with the Great Wall of China. - -We expected to find Kingston, as it was described in a trade report -by an American consul, a flourishing little township. All that we -did find was a solitary house, on the edge of a black-looking lake, -surrounded by precipitous mountains covered with snow. This house was -the hotel. Of course there were no visitors. New Zealanders are wiser -than strangers. At Queenstown, which you reach by a small steamer, the -accommodation is much better. But still, even if you had the Palace -Hotel from San Francisco, Lake Wakatipu is not the place for weather -such as we had. The scenery of ragged peaks whitewashed with snow, -and black cliffs frowning upon a blacker lake, may be fine in summer -weather, but it was sufficient to make us fly away from it at the first -opportunity. At the Kingston end of the lake, there are to be seen some -very remarkable terrace formations marking the ancient level of the -lake. These are cut in glacial moraine, indicating that Wakatipu at one -time may have been the basin of a huge glacier. - -In returning, at Lumsden we branched off across the Waiwea Plains, on -a private line. The ground over which we ran was for the most part -flat and uncultivated. To the right and left there were snow-clad -hills. We were now on the way to Dunedin. The farther we went the -more cultivated became the country. There were no forests. All was -laid out in fields, and much of the ground had been turned over by the -plough. I suppose this was for wheat. As we went along the passengers -continued to increase. Most of the men wore long leggings, and were -very muddy. Although our companions were farmerish and muddy, I was -told that some of them were very rich. Scotchmen can make money in any -country. One old millionaire that I heard about was a ferryman. His -name was Fergusson. Wet or fine, Fergusson was always at his post, -ready to pass the time of day with a farmer’s wife, or to answer the -‘Hallo’ of a belated traveller. For a long time it was supposed that -Fergusson was poor, and to add a copper or two, or even a shilling, to -his usual fare was looked upon as quite the proper thing. Fergusson -was always pleasant, and touched his hat to all who came. At last it -got rumoured that every week the postman delivered a big envelope -at Fergusson’s door, and there was a good deal of speculation as to -what this correspondence was about. The big red seal on the envelope -indicated that Fergusson’s business was important. This went on for -two years, and Fergusson’s business was as great a secret as ever. -But there is an end to all things, and so there was to the mystery -of big envelopes. It seems that Fergusson could not read, and being -as desirous of solving the secret of the envelopes as other people, -he called in a friend. Shortly afterwards we heard that the weekly -correspondence was Fergusson’s banking account. How many stations he -owns we are afraid to say, but he still keeps the ferry. People call -him Mr. Fergusson now. Some time before we reached Dunedin, a boy -passed through the carriages, and collected our names to be telegraphed -ahead for the Dunedin papers. It was a long ride of over twelve hours, -and we were glad to find ourselves, about 8 p.m., once more back again -in civilization. - - -The Rabbit Difficulty Explained. - -Seeing and hearing so much about rabbits when in New Zealand -made me anxious to discover the law or laws which governed their -multiplication. When I was in the train on my way to Dunedin, I, -MacTavish, and MacCallum More tried to investigate the question, but I -am sorry to say that we signally failed. MacTavish tried to illustrate -it with a pack of cards he carried, beginning by dealing out a king -and queen to represent a pair of rabbits. Under each of these he -would place six more cards to represent their offspring. But at this -point a controversy arose as to how many should be males and how many -females. But work as we would, we never seemed to have enough cards to -illustrate the thing properly. - -After an hour or two of argument, our ideas were so hopelessly -entangled, that for relaxation MacCallum tried to teach us a game he -called poker. - -The rabbit question, however, was only dormant. At Dunedin we were -told an intercolonial congress had sat upon the rabbit question. -One outcome of their labours was to recommend the various Colonial -Governments who had found it impossible to legislate against an enemy -they did not understand, to offer a handsome sum to the first person -who successfully placed the rabbit question on an intelligent basis. - -The prize was won by a Mr. Macalister, a schoolmaster in Dunedin. His -treatise on the subject, which is known as ‘The Bunnyian Calculus,’ has -since been recommended as a text-book for the junior classes in the -various Government schools. - -We called on Mr. Macalister when in Dunedin, who, when he heard that we -were interested in the important question to which he had devoted so -much attention, gave us a pressing invitation to hear the children at -their rabbit exercises. - -‘Noo, sir,’ said he, ‘ye wad aiblins like to hear the laddie bairns dae -their Bunnyian Calculus; it’s jist wonnerfu.’ - -We said we ‘aiblins would.’ - -‘Well, ye maun ken then,’ continued he, addressing himself, chalk in -hand, to his blackboard, ‘that a guid deal depends on the assoumptions -even in the exawct scieences. Ane is that the doe rabbit litters aucht -times in the twalmonth; and anither, that her feemly consists o’ twa he -and four she anes. Monnie mae assoumptions maun be made that it wadna -jist a’ thegither dae to explain to the callants. Ho’someever, we’ll -reckon the term o’ life to be sax years, and start wi ae bonnie winsome -doe rabbit. It is evident there will be-- - - (1 + 4) she rabbits at the end of the first term. - (1 + 4)² ” ” ” ” second term. - (1 + 4)⁴⁸ ” ” ” ” sax years. - -Here we should soobtrawct ane, for the auld doe will e’en -noo dee, while the first four o’ her offspring’ll be hirplin, and maun -be deducted at the end o’ the next term, belike. But as we maun ca’ -cannie wi’ the bairns, an’ no ding them doited a’ thegither, we’ll just -pay no kind of attention whatever to the deed anes; for weel I wat, it -maks sma’ difference in the result, those that dee by natural means, -and won’t affect the first few significant figures. Nae doot ye see, -that it’s jist compownd interest payable aucht times in the twalmonth, -and if we further aloo’ for the deed anes, that is exactly as if a -brokerage, as it were, were soobtrawcted at the end o’ each payment -after the aucht and twa score. I’ll just show ye the exact formula wi’ -r for the number o’ she rabbits and R: r the ratio of total rabbits to -she ones at a litter, n being the number o’ years that elawpsed.’ - -And consulting his book, this is what he wrote on another board: - - R - N = ---(1 + r)⁸ⁿ⁻¹ [(1 + r){(1 + r)⁴⁸ - 8n - 1} + 8n] - r - -with the most evident satisfaction, and artistically chalking the -whirrlies with the greatest care. It gave me a twinge of toothache, I -must say. - -He then completed his numerical example, saying: - -‘At the end o’ a score o’ years the number of rabbits descended frae -one doe is - - 6 - N = ---(1 + 4)¹⁶⁰ - 4 - = 684 × 10¹¹².’ - -‘No wonder,’ says my friend to me, who seemed to understand -it--‘aiblins,’ ‘hirplin,’ ‘doited,’ and all--‘no wonder the Society for -the Protection of Rabbits congratulated themselves; and,’ he added, -‘all the unnatural ways since tried to decrease these rabbits don’t -affect the practical result either.’ - -All the time Macalister’s demonstration had gone on, Mac and I were -giving significant nods, and grunting assent to all he said. - -‘Noo,’ says Macalister, ‘the children will do a few practical -exercises.’ - -We were rather tired, and, as it was nearly one o’clock, somewhat -hungry; but not wishing to offend the scholar, we said we were -delighted. - -‘Jock,’ said he, pointing to the board, ‘hoo mony muckle is that?’ - -‘Six hundred and eighty-four,’ said the boy. - -‘Sax hunner an auchty-four, my braw bairn; but whaat? Tell me whaat? -dinna be blate and skirl a’ thegither.’ - -With that each child drew a long breath, clutched the back of a bench, -shut his eyes, and began, ‘Of millions of millions of millions of -millions of millions,’ as if they were never going to stop. - -Suddenly the schoolmaster lifted his hand, and the noise ceased. - -‘How many times did ye say millions of millions of millions?’ asked the -teacher. - -‘Five score and twelve times,’ was the answer. - -‘Quite correct, you see,’ said Macalister. ‘It’s only an application of -the formula. The rabbits which die don’t affect the answer.’ - -It was now one o’clock, and Mac was shuffling his feet to get away. - -‘Just one more problem,’ said Macalister; and before we had time -to make any excuse about catching our steamer, Macalister said to -the school: ‘With the same conditions as before, assume that Captain -Cook had landed a pair of rabbits in New Zealand instead of a pair of -pigs, how many would there now be in the country? Before stating the -answer, half of you can go to your dinners, but mind and be back by two -o’clock.’ - -Half the school had no sooner gone than the remainder of the children -commenced saying, ‘Millions of millions of millions of millions,’ in a -monotonous sort of rhythm. When they were going to stop we could not -tell. - -At two o’clock those who had been to their dinner came back, and as -they dropped into their places struck up the millions of millions -tune. The detachment who had commenced the answer, being in this way -relieved, retired to their dinners. - -‘It’s a gey lang answer,’ said the schoolmaster, ‘isn’t it?’ Mac -looked black. ‘Better take a seat; you will appreciate the children’s -intelligence much better.’ - -It was then close on three o’clock, and still the children kept on -singing ‘Millions of millions of millions.’ - -‘Wonderful children,’ I remarked. ‘How many more times will they say -“Millions of millions of millions”?’ I inquired. - -‘Oh,’ said the schoolmaster, ‘the number of times they will say it will -be millions of millions of millions of millions of millions.’ - -Mac looked furious. Millions of millions of millions. ‘The old fool’s -mad,’ he whispered. - -‘Civility costs nothing,’ I replied; ‘his tongue will get tired in -time.’ - -But still the schoolmaster kept repeating, ‘Millions of millions of -millions.’ - -‘Ask him how many years he will be before he gets to the end of his -answer?’ - -As it was now four o’clock, and the lamps were being lighted, I -ventured to ask the schoolmaster how many days it would be before he -had finished his answer. - -His face lighted up with a smile, and he said, ‘Well, perhaps in -millions of millions of millions of millions,’ and there he was off -again. - -‘How many years will it be before the children have finished?’ I broke -in. - -‘Oh, in millions of millions of millions,’ he again went on. - -‘Well, then, we’ll come and hear some more of the answer to-morrow,’ -said Mac. - -‘Thank you very much for your entertainment, Mr. Macalister; your -children are very intelligent, and so are you. Good-bye, Mr. -Macalister, good-bye.’ But said I, at the door, ‘What were the other -assumptions you alluded to?’ - -‘Well, well,’ says he, ‘these rabbits maun hae nae haevings at a’, -sic as scruples o’ conscience or regard to the laws o’ the Kirk o’ -Scotland.’ - -The landlord of our hotel was delighted when he heard that we had -interviewed Macalister on the rabbit question. Some of the members of -the legislature who have not been blessed with the gift of the gab -have found the schoolmaster’s calculations quite valuable. When they -want to block proceedings one of them asks a question about rabbits. -It doesn’t matter much what it is. How many tons of phosphorus will it -require to clear the rabbits out of New Zealand? How many tons of grass -do the rabbits in New Zealand eat every year? How many rabbits would it -take to fill the Pacific Ocean? Anything will do. - -No sooner is the question asked, than up jumps a member, and from an -equation in the Bunnyian Calculus, which he shows to be correct, begins -to say ‘Millions of millions of millions,’ until everybody has left the -house. - -They have now brought forward a Bill compelling those who speak on -rabbits to express time intervals as geological periods. - -After our experiences at Dunedin, Mac and I were cautious when we asked -questions about the rabbit plague. - -Dunedin is a fine city, and is in every way creditable to its founders. -It is certainly hilly, but these difficulties are overcome with -tramcars moved by an underground wire rope similar to that which has -been for so many years successfully used in San Francisco. The banks -and churches are of course noticeable, and so are the shops. - -At the meeting of four streets in the centre of the town, there is a -miniature of Sir Walter Scott’s monument in Edinburgh. This is to the -memory of a Mr. Cargill, an energetic gentleman and pioneer in the -earlier days of Dunedin. - -On the night of our arrival we were entertained with a torchlight -procession, and the howlings of the Salvation Army. - -At the Museum Mac and I had our first interview with the remains of the -moa. We saw some of their feathers, and a mummified larynx of one of -these animals. I am not sure whether the moa could sing, but anyhow he -had a larynx. What was more, he had a gizzard. In one corner of a glass -case there were about a coal-scuttleful of white pebbles, which had -been removed from the gizzard of a moa. The moa had therefore a taste -for mineralogy. - -‘We shall get some valuable facts about this animal before we have -done,’ remarked Mac. - -Then, turning to the director of the Museum, who kindly accompanied -us round the show, he blandly inquired whether the moa ever attacked -travellers. - -‘It is an extinct bird, sir,’ said the director, looking very much -disgusted at Mac. - -‘Oh, it’s extinct, is it?’ was the reply. - -Birds are in great force in the Museum, especially the extinct ones. -One blue-looking fellow, almost as big as a small goose, fetches £250 -apiece at the British Museum. - -Besides the birds there were the usual lot of stuffed sharks and -whales which museums provide themselves with. I really believe that a -good-sized whale is the best bit of furniture that can be bought for -a juvenile museum. You get such a lot for your money, and it’s very -attractive to visitors, especially to the nursemaids and children. - -There was certainly enough in the Dunedin Museum to occupy a student -for a lifetime, and the curator deserves great credit for what he has -done towards educating the young New Zealanders about the animal -kingdom. A New Zealander, if left to himself, must necessarily conclude -that the inhabitants of the world, are few in number. All that New -Zealand possessed prior to the introduction of ‘Captain Cook’ was a bat -and a rat. - -There are no snakes in the country, and if ever any man introduces -one he is threatened with an immediate lynching. One felt inclined to -tell the Iceland story when I heard that there were no snakes, but I -judiciously refrained. It might make a New Zealander cross. - -Another interesting place to visit is the University; but the best of -all things is to take a ride in a tramcar to the top of one of the -mountains, and have a look at the panorama of bay and island down -below. Everywhere we went--to railway stations, to hotels, in trains or -on trains--we were sure to see half a dozen people called Mac. This led -my friend at every opportunity into conversation with his neighbours as -to whether there were many Scotchmen in New Zealand. - -‘Eh, no, mon; maybe thurs a wee sprinkle o’ Scotus,’ was a typical -reply. - -This always enabled Mac to tell them that was what he thought. He had -been looking out for his countrymen, and was sorry to find that they -were so poorly represented. One or two of the casual acquaintances saw -the joke, and gently snorted. - -We joined our ship at Port Chalmers, which is about eight miles’ ride -in the train from Dunedin. Looking back, we saw the hills and valleys -of the city we were leaving. One thing which was very striking, was the -number of houses built on the top of the highest hills. Judging from -the thousand-foot climb that the people who live in these houses must -often indulge in, they cannot be very lazy. To live on a pinnacle is -indicative of a romantic nature, and I thought Scotch folks were only -practical. - -At Port Chalmers we began to load up with passengers and assume the -character of a coaster. The wharf was crowded, and so were our decks. - -‘Good-bye, Mac. Tell Maggie I’ll be up by next boat.’ ‘Mind that hawser -there.’ ‘Give my love to Charlie, and send me word how baby is,’ and a -thousand other private communications, mixed up with the blustering of -sailors, was what we heard. Then there was a lot of crying, and a great -deal of kissing. Mac wanted to know how it was that the girls never -kissed us when the steamer left. - -At seven o’clock next morning, we were steaming between the high -grassy hills, about 2,000 feet in height, which bound the harbour -of Lyttelton. Everything looked big and grand. A passenger who had -travelled said it looked like Madeira. Instead of trees there were a -few patches of snow. - -Lyttelton is a quiet little town on the side of a steep hill. From here -you go by train to Christchurch. You are hardly out of the town before -you drive into a tunnel, which is a mile or more in length. Before -making this tunnel, which cost a fabulous sum of money, the good folks -of Christchurch could only reach their harbour by climbing the high -hills, which we saw as we steamed into Lyttelton. These hills consist -of volcanic rock, and the driving of the tunnel through them proved -that they were not so solid as they appeared, for here and there large -cavernous spaces were met with. - -On emerging at the other side, we were amongst the green fields and -furze fences of the famous Canterbury Plains. Christchurch is a large -town conducted on strictly moral principles. Its streets are wide and -numerous. Notwithstanding the existence of steam-trams, good shops, and -a fair amount of traffic, it appeared to be dull. Perhaps it was the -general flatness which created this impression. The only shop which -had unusual attractions was an establishment for the sale of music and -musical instruments. It seemed to contain everything, from a Jew’s harp -to a church organ. It must be a musical depôt for the Colonies. - -Christchurch has many churches and a cathedral. From the spire of -the latter, which you are allowed to ascend on paying a shilling, an -extensive view of this portion of New Zealand may be obtained. - -The pride of the place is, however, the Museum, which is reckoned by -its energetic curator, Dr. Von Haast, to rank amongst the best in -the world. It is certainly the best museum within a radius of many -thousands of miles. It contains something of everything, from the -autograph of Nelson to a sewing-machine. There is a fine gallery of -paintings and statuary. Antiquities, from mummies to mediæval armour, -galleries of geological specimens, rooms full of birds and stuffed -animals, other chambers filled with bones, a Maori house chock-a-block -with Maori treasures, and finally a room full of moas. In the Moa room -we met a Chinaman. - -‘Good-morning, John,’ said Mac; ‘you live at Christchurch?’ - -‘No, I come this side all samee you; my wantchee see moa. S’pose can -catchee moa, can catchee plenty dolla.’ - -‘Um, how’s that?’ asked Mac. - -‘You never hea?’ inquired John; ‘no man talkee you about Mr. Haast? Mr. -Haast dig garden one day, find plenty moa bones. Then he send letter -all country: “Suppose you send me twenty piecee mummy, 400 piecee -papyros, two sphinxes, one smalla pyramid,” he talkee Egyptian man, “I -sendie you one piecee moa.”’ - -John then said that the Egyptian Government were delighted with the -offer, and sent the twenty piecee mummy, 400 piecee papyros, two -sphinxes, and the small pyramid, and then received their allowance of -moa. - -‘Next time he write that man live top side North Pole.’ - -I suppose John meant that he entered into communication with the -Esquimaux. - -‘“You sendee two piecee polar bear, and one piecee iceberg, you can -catchee all same Egypt man.”’ - -Of course the Esquimaux were delighted. Next, John told us he wrote to -the British Government. - -‘“I wantee five piecee steamer, four piecee outside walkee can see, and -another piecee inside walkee no can see; I pay you plenty moa bones.’” - -And according to our friend he went on swapping moa bones all over the -universe, obtaining in exchange Turner’s masterpieces, button-hooks, -anchors, relics from ancient Rome, specimens of small volcanoes, -pumpkins, and, in short, almost everything you see in the Museum. -These the talented and energetic director has classified and reduced to -the orderly system in which they are now presented to the visitor. - -Although Christchurch has been a centre from which moa bones have been -distributed throughout the world, the best collection of them has -remained in their old habitat. There were big moas and little moas, and -each of them had a different name. The first bit of moa that went home -was a thigh-bone. The uninitiated would have pronounced it as belonging -to an elephant. Professor Owen, however, said it was the relic of a -gigantic bird. People smiled; now the Professor smiles. - -The biggest moa had a neck like a giraffe. When he straightened and -stood on his toes, he might have picked a weather cock off the top of -a church spire. Naturalists say that the moa could not fly, but an old -Maori, who I think was a king, told me that they could fly beautifully. -Sometimes you could flush a dozen in a morning, and the shooting was -grand. When they dropped they shook the ground like an earthquake. The -best were roasted. I quite believed the latter statement, as their -singed bones could be seen by the basketful in every museum we went -to. They were pretty tough, and strangers, after once partaking of the -delicacy, often refused to take any ‘moa.’ Thus the name of the animal. - -Mac had not a soul for the anatomy of an extinct animal, and said it -was dry. - -This took us from the Museum to an hotel, where we found a bar supplied -by an overflowing artesian well. Many of the people in Canterbury -get their water from artesian wells. A hole is bored, and up shoots -the water. Geologists say that this is due to hydraulic pressure -communicated from the hills through inclined strata. These theories may -be true where inclined strata exist, but it does not explain the coming -up of water, when the strata are horizoned by flat river plains, which -is the case in many parts of the world. The artesian-well theory wants -considerable amplification in our mind. - -At the railway station we found a little boy in uniform who wanted to -insure our lives! The reason for his anxiety was that we might suffer -harm in the tunnel. ‘It’s only a penny, sir, and we insure nearly -everybody.’ - -In the Colonies they will insure you against a heartache. At the -book-store I observed a notice that anyone found after a railway -accident with a copy of the _Daily Chronicle_ (if I remember rightly), -issued on the day of the disaster, in his possession would receive £500. - -After a rough-and-tumble night, crammed in a small cabin with three -sick passengers, I was not sorry to find that we were steering into -Wellington. On all sides there were high and irregular hills. Some of -them on the left were capped with snow. The view was by no means so -smooth in its outlines as on entering Lyttelton. The hills, instead of -being round and green, were ragged and brown. Wellington is situated at -the foot of these hills at the head of the bay. The position seemed to -be snug and quiet, but we soon discovered it was quite the contrary. - -Wellington seems to have been built in a sort of natural funnel, -through which there is a perpetual gale of wind. You can always tell -a man from Wellington, for wherever he goes he will grip hold of his -hat on turning a corner. When we got ashore we found that we had to -grip our hats, and could quite understand how a prolonged residence -at Wellington might lead to an instinctive desire to save your hat on -turning a corner. - -We had a talk with a resident about the winds of Wellington. - -‘Wind, indeed! Why, it’s only a week or so ago when a whole girls’ -school was blown clean out to sea. Now they have invented a way for -reefing their petticoats. Too much sail doesn’t do in these parts. All -the nursemaids and children never turn out now without carrying a small -kedge and a few fathoms of chain hooked to their perambulators.’ - -‘Good for windmills,’ I remarked. - -‘Yes, we thought so, until we tried them. One was blown away and landed -somewhere up amongst the Maoris, who refused to return it, saying that -it had been presented to them last year by a gentleman from Australia. -The other mill we anchored down, but when it once commenced to move, we -were never able to stop it.’ - -‘And how was that?’ said I, and I was told the story of - - -Dickey Adams. - -‘It was a sad affair, that was. It was Dickey Adams who thought he -could make a fortune out of the Wellington winds. We told him to let -them alone. - -‘“Look,” Dickey, said I, “nothing can stand against these Wellington -winds. You’ll find your blessed windmill up amongst the Maoris the day -after you put it up, and they’ll say it was given to them last year by -a gentleman from Australia. Don’t you remember that train which was -blown backwards right through the terminus, and landed the passengers -forty miles in the opposite direction to what they had started?” says -I. “Dickey, Dickey, it’ll never do to fight against the Almighty. The -Almighty has made these winds, and we must bear them.” - -‘But Dickey wasn’t to be persuaded, and it just ended by his being -ruined and breaking his heart and then dying. It was just like pulling -at a pig’s tail to talk to Dickey. The more you pulled back the more -Dickey went ahead. - -‘Well, we watched Dickey’s mill being put up with considerable -interest. Every stone he stuck in he had dovetailed into those below -it, for all the world like a lighthouse. At last he got the top on, and -then, waiting for a fine day when the breeze slackened a little, he put -up the sails. These he held fast with chains and anchors. - -‘At last the mill got finished, and Dickey invited us all up to see him -slip the anchors, and give the machinery a turn, just to ease it a bit, -you know, for it was all new. Of course we all went, and Dickey was as -happy as a skylark. There he was, hopping about and chirping away to -everyone about the way he had built his mill. Dickey’s smiles did me -good. It was certainly a red-letter day for him. Some of the old hands -shook their heads, and called the mill Dickey’s Folly. - -‘At last the inspection was over, and then came the loosening. He had -had his chains nicely arranged by a sailor man, he said, but no sooner -was one cast off than the old thing gave a groan and a heave, and away -she went carrying the other three chains with her. My word, how we -scattered as the sails went flying round quicker and quicker, and at -every turn three great chains came beating on the ground. People down -below thought there was an earthquake. By-and-by, as the chains didn’t -come off, some of us ventured back, and Dickey said he would go inside -and put on a patent friction brake which he had invented, and show us -how it stopped. - -‘But what do you think we found? Why, we found the blessed sails, with -their twenty fathoms of iron tassels, were lashing round and round -right in front of the mill door. Of course Dickey couldn’t get inside. -“But the wind may shift a bit by-and-by,” said he, and he looked quite -cheerful. So we sat down and watched it. - -‘All that night the thumping of the chains and the rattling of Dickey’s -machinery stopped a lot of us from sleeping. Next morning we found that -Dickey, who had been sitting up watching his machine all night, as was -natural, was looking a bit anxious. - -‘This went on for fully a week, until, instead of being a curiosity, -Dickey’s mill became a nuisance, and several who lived near him said -they had earthquakes enough about the place without his starting a -perpetual one. Next they began to hint that their window-frames were -getting loose, and the children couldn’t sleep, and that Dickey’s mill -must be stopped somehow. A few who sympathized with Dickey’s bad luck -suggested that they need not trouble, it would wear itself out in a -week or so. Others, however, said Dickey had built it so strong that it -might go thumping and turning for a lifetime, and proceedings ought to -be taken against it as a public nuisance. - -‘Well, all this ended by the Town Council sitting to discuss how -Dickey’s mill was to be got rid of. Some suggested blowing it up with -powder, others said we ought to get the artillery to come down from -Auckland; but the suggestion which found the greatest favour was to -pump on it with the fire-engines and then try if the thing would rust -up solid. The fire-brigade had a fine time of it; the more water they -pumped into Dickey’s mill, the quicker the hanged thing seemed to -go--it just acted like oil. - -‘By this time Dickey was getting pretty low in spirits, and with -sitting up all night had got quite thin. Many’s the time I walked up to -the hill to see Dickey sitting on a bank of stones with his face in his -hands and great tear-drops trickling down his face. What with building -the thing, paying compensation for new window-frames, making presents -to the women all round just to keep their tongues quiet, and paying the -bill presented to him by the fire-brigade, unless the mill stopped, -Dickey was a ruined man. - -‘Then the cold weather came on, and yet Dickey would never leave his -mill. He was always hoping the wind might change, and he could get -inside. - -‘It finished him at last, however. One cold frosty morning the children -who used to take him his tucker came running back, saying Dickey -was dead. It was true enough; there was poor old Dickey lying out -stiff and cold, on the frosty grass. We were all sorry about Dickey. -Wellington wind killed a good man when it carried off poor old Dickey.’ - -‘And how did the windmill finish?’ I asked. - -‘Why, a man fenced it in, and used to take visitors up to see it at a -shilling a head. One night, however, a heavier gale than usual blew, -and carried it right away.’ - -Here Mac broke in, ‘I suppose a Maori has got it, and says it was -presented to him last year by a gentleman from Australia.’ - -Our communicative acquaintance was evidently a little piqued by Mac’s -query, and replied that he didn’t know; but anyhow, after Dickey’s -windmill, no wonder people talked about ‘windy Wellington.’ - - -About Earthquakes. - -Another thing that Wellington is famous for is its earthquakes. Many -of these have been sufficiently violent to become landmarks in New -Zealand history. It has often happened that the coast-line to the west -of Wellington has been permanently raised several feet by earthquakes. -Wellington has been a gainer by these upheavals, and houses which were -once on the sea-shore are now some distance back. - -Any year may bring the announcement that Wellington has taken another -upward start, and what is now the quay may be a street with houses -on either side. Events like these, together with the minor shakings -which are of continual occurrence, very naturally alarm many of the -Wellingtonians. At one time nearly every person in Wellington felt it a -duty to have all loose articles like ornaments on shelves fastened in -position by wires. - -The greatest proof that Wellingtonians fear these disturbances is the -fact that nearly all their houses are built of wood. The Government -buildings are spoken of as the largest wooden buildings in the world. -Wellington is certainly wooden as well as windy. I met with quite a -number of people who had seismological experiences to relate. Some -apparently did not mind the shakings--just tremors, they said. These -people were, for the most part, new chums, who had not yet been imbued -with a due respect for plutonic force. Others told me that they did -not mind earthquakes so much as at first, but that they had gradually -come to have a great antipathy for them; they alarmed their wives and -children so much. - -There is a feeling of insecurity with these phenomena; you feel you -can’t stop them, and you expect after a thing has begun, the next shake -may be like that of 1855, when all the buildings came down. - -‘The last good shake we had,’ said a gentleman, ‘gave a terrible fright -to my neighbours, who are married people living in a two-story house. -Every night they were very particular to see that things were locked -up safely. I suppose they were afraid of their servants getting out at -night. When they went upstairs they always took the keys with them, and -put them under their pillows. One night a shake came on pretty smart, -and they both bundled out of bed and bolted downstairs. It wasn’t until -they had got to the bottom and tried to open the front door that they -remembered that unless they went back to get the keys they were fast -prisoners. Now, will you believe me, there they stood shivering in the -cold at their front door, both afraid to go upstairs and get the keys, -until the motion finished. They leave the keys downstairs now.’ - -‘What did you do?’ I asked. - -‘Oh, I, well--I bolted through the front parlour window, and landed on -my stomach on a flower-bed. It is as true as I am here that I could -feel that flower-bed palpitating as if it were alive. - -‘Oh, there were some funny things happened that night. The old man -who is supposed to study these things up at our observatory was found -by his wife standing in his nightshirt out in the snow, with the -window-sash round his neck. You know, the old ass had bolted head first -through his window without stopping to open it. When his wife asked him -what he was doing, he told her that he had just stepped out to make an -outside observation; “I wanted to see if the chimneys moved very much, -my dear,” he stammered. - -‘Down at the club there were a lot of our boys and some naval officers -playing poker. You don’t know that game, I suppose? It is a game where -they have a pool, and this keeps getting bigger and bigger as the game -goes on. They call this pool a Jack Pot. Well, when the shake came on, -the pot was reckoned to be worth about £45. People never thought about -money when they felt the movement and heard the timbers creaking; they -just looked at each other and then stampeded. Some went for windows, -some for doors, and others, who did not know the place, got jammed in -the kitchen, and the ends of blank passages. One man landed in the -bath-room, another found himself a prisoner in the lavatory. - -‘When the thing was over, one of the party was missing. Now just guess -where they found him. Why, shaking and shivering in a cupboard. - -‘Well, after a laugh and a drink--for it needs something to square your -nerves after a good earthquake--they sat down to finish their game. But -do you think they found the Jack Pot on the table? No, sir, not a bit -of it; and what was more, they never did find it. - -‘It was, however, observed that the man that was shaking in the -cupboard, and at whom they had laughed for being in such a funk, bought -himself a new watch that week. General opinion held that he had never -been in a funk at all, but had just stayed behind until his friends had -cleared, and then nobbled the pool, after which he quietly walked into -the cupboard. - -‘You ought to have seen the mess our town was in next morning. All the -chimneys were slewed round, tiles were shaken off the houses, plaster -was down everywhere. It just looked as if the Russians had been in and -bombarded the place. It cost us on an average £100 apiece to put things -straight. - -‘Up in the churchyard all the gravestones were turned round, but the -curious thing was that they had all gone in the same direction. The -disturbance gave us conversation for a fortnight. - -‘You know, when we go to call at a house in Wellington it is just as -common to begin the conversation by--“That was a nasty shock last -night,” as to begin by telling people “the weather is getting a little -colder.”’ - -‘Which way do these earthquakes come?’ I asked. - -‘Why, some folks say they come one way, and others say they come -another. They go by their senses, you see, and half of them lose their -senses when an earthquake comes. - -‘Our old observatory man says they come from the sea, and that the -motion we feel may be in all directions, twisting and squirming about, -first one way, then another. Then again, you’re not moved so much if -you’re up on high ground, as you are down on the soft stuff.’ - -To gain as much information as possible, I asked if there were any -theories about how these things start. - -‘Theories, why, yes, plenty of them. Some say they are -volcanic--explosion of steam in fissures--others say they are caused -by the rocks suddenly breaking, adjusting themselves to a position -of equilibrium, the observatory man calls it. I don’t believe in the -theories. I think earthquakes are just electrical phenomena, and kind -of subterranean lightning and thunderstorm. - -‘Just to show you what I mean, the other day I was out having dinner -with Harris up the hill, when one of the hanged phenomena came along -and shook the house as if it was going to fetch it down. I knew if it -was so bad up there, down below I might expect at least to find my -chimneys through the roof. - -‘As I knew the state my wife and daughters would be in, I didn’t stop -to finish dinner, but went off as hard as my legs could carry me home. - -‘When I got in, what do you think I saw? My wife was knitting, with her -toes on the fender, and my daughters were playing with a little cat -they had. - -‘“Good gracious, Tom!” said my wife, “we thought you were dining with -Mr. Harris. What’s the matter? You look too frightened to tell us. Is -it serious?” - -‘“Thank God you’re safe,” said I, holding myself against the door-post, -and panting for breath, for I had run the last mile or so. - -‘“Safe!” they all said, “of course we’re all safe. What’s the matter?” - -‘“Oh, Tom, Tom!” said my wife, rushing up and putting her arms round my -neck, “don’t keep us in suspense. Is it something dreadful?” - -‘“Why, the earthquake,” said I. - -‘“Earthquake!” said they, “there hasn’t been an earthquake.” - -‘“You’re crazy, Tom,” said my wife. - -‘“Why, Harris’s house has been nearly shaken down, and I came to see -how you were getting on.” - -‘Then they laughed, and told me I had been dreaming. Well, to be -called crazy, to be accused of dreaming, and to miss my dinner, set me -thinking. - -‘That very afternoon I made inquiries from all my friends in the town -about the disturbance, and what do you think I found? One thing I found -out was, that it had just gone through the town in a straight line. It -had worked just like the subtle fluid works; it had travelled along -the shortest distance between two points. It hadn’t gone to the right -or the left, but it had gone as electricity goes, in a straight line, -and therefore I say that earthquakes are electricity. And what is -more, when we get some railroads through the country, the stuff will -gradually escape along the metals, and these underground thunderstorms, -as I call ’em, will stop. Now what do you think of that for a theory?’ -said he. - -He finished up by telling me the following story about Soft Sammy. - - * * * * * - -‘In many countries when an earthquake takes place,’ he began, ‘the -land goes down. At Lisbon it went down so suddenly that it buried a -whole lot of people. In our country, so far as I can make out, the land -appears to have a habit of going up. In ’55 about 4,600 square miles -of land rose in some places nine feet, and the breadth of the beach -increased more than 100 feet. - -‘All this, you know, occurred near Wellington, and it has kept on -occurring, off and on, ever since. The trouble and litigation these -earth-jerks have cost us have been something terrible. - -‘After the first jump-up, people were for a time too scared to know -what they ought to do. Most of them, when they recovered a bit, -began to scratch about amongst their ruins, trying to root out their -property. Most of the things had got so flattened that it was difficult -to tell what was yours and what was somebody else’s. - -‘One man sued another for having been digging in the wrong ruins. The -plaintiff deposed that the defendant had not only trespassed, but had -stolen his kitchen-clock. The article was produced in court, and the -defence held it not to be a clock, but a warming-pan. - -‘If it was a clock, the judge remarked that he should give the case in -favour of the plaintiff; but if it was a warming-pan, he should be -compelled to side with the defendant. - -‘Do you know, the thing had been so flattened, that there wasn’t a -jury in Wellington could decide whether the thing was a clock or a -warming-pan. One man stuck to it that it was a frying-pan, and from -the smell of it should say it had last been used to cook beefsteak and -onions. - -‘While all this was going on in the town, the people who lived along -the quay were speculating as to when the water was coming back. There -were all the ships lying high and dry, and, as far as you could see, -there was a broad beach covered with rocks and seaweed. It wasn’t so -many days before the mussels and stuff began to putrefy, and when the -breeze set in from outside, the smell was horrible. - -‘One day, as we were walking along the new beach, we observed that -here and there some pegs had been driven in, just as if somebody had -been staking out a claim; and when we came to inquire, we found that -somebody had been staking out a claim. - -‘The fellow who did it was a man who lives up there,’ and our -acquaintance pointed up the hill to one of the biggest houses in the -town. ‘At that time he was a new chum, and because we thought he was a -bit soft, we called him Soft Sammy. - -‘Sammy, however, took the wind out of our sails this time. Instead of -pottering round his ruins like the rest of us had been doing, he had -quietly staked the new ground which had been lifted up. - -‘At first they told him that land between high and low water-mark was -the Queen’s property, and he couldn’t hold possession. Billy, however, -showed that the judge had a bit of land on which there was a ship -stranded. When it came there no one knew, but that it was a long time -ago there was no doubt, as there was then a tree growing out of it. - -“The tree didn’t walk there,” was Sammy’s argument; “and if that land -belongs to you, then the land I’ve pegged out belongs to me.” - -‘The judge decided in Sammy’s favour. - -‘As soon as Sammy got possession, he sent round notes to the masters of -all the ships which were lying on his ground, politely informing them -that unless they moved off his patch within the next twenty-four hours, -he should be compelled to take action against them for trespass. He -wanted to build on the ground, and they were in the way, he said. - -‘As there was no moving the ships, they were put up to auction, and -Sammy pocketed half the proceeds. This enabled him to undertake the -building he talked about, and now the whole of those buildings facing -the water are Sammy’s property. - -‘It’s not many people that can make money out of earthquakes, but -Sammy managed it, you see. Of course everybody was praying for a -second jump-up, so that Sammy’s property would be converted into a -back street, and they might get a sea frontage. Sammy had successfully -jumped some of the Queen’s property, and why shouldn’t they? - -‘When the cold weather came on--for that is the time that earthquakes -are frequent--the excitement used to be pretty great. Everyone expected -to get a prize some day. A lot of them got the old fellow up at the -observatory to calculate the chances of an earthquake coming, and on -the days he fixed for the jerk-up to come off, you’d see hundreds of -people sitting along the beach, with pegs and mallets ready to block -off their new possessions. - -‘Some of them, to be right there when the phenomenon came along, would -stand half the night up to their middles in water, ready to drive in a -peg directly they felt the lift. - -‘We had all sorts of rules given us to tell when to expect an -earthquake. They were pretty plentiful when the moon was near to us, so -they said. - -‘Then there were lots of rules connecting the frequency of shakes and -the position of planets, the height of the barometer, the phase of the -tide, or the temperature of the air. Some of us would work on one rule, -and some on another; but so far as we could make out there was no rule; -anyhow, there was no decided rule which would help us to make money. -Applied science didn’t work right. - -‘I often read about professors prophesying when there will be an -earthquake. Some of them fix a day for the event. Sometimes it comes -off, and then they are all cock-a-whoop; but when it doesn’t come off, -they just lie close. - -‘It stands to reason that they must be right sometimes, because in some -countries there are earthquakes every day.’ - -‘Well, and was there never any more jump-ups after the one when Sammy -made his money?’ I inquired. - -‘Oh yes, there was one a bit down the bay some years ago.’ - -‘And was there a scramble for it?’ I said. - -‘My word there was!’ he answered; ‘if you had seen the cartloads of -pegs, and people and buggies all crowding along, each trying to get -ahead of his neighbour, you would have thought Wellington was mad. When -they got there, what do you think they found? Well, they found it had -all been pegged out by Sammy.’ - -‘What, Sammy again?’ I said. - -‘Yes, it was Sammy again, and as far as we could make out he had pegged -out the ground before the earthquake came, and as his pegs were below -water we could not see them. We don’t call him Soft Sammy any more. We -call him Seismic Sammy now.’ - - * * * * * - -Amongst the many sights of Wellington we visited the Museum. - -Mac kicked against this, and said he didn’t want any _moa_ moas. The -compliment I paid him on his pun caused him to go. - -The collections, although by no means so extensive as at Christchurch, -are certainly worth a visit. There were the usual assortment of -minerals and fossils, a rusty-looking moa, a freshly-imported mummy, -and at the doorway a diagram showing the districts where an approaching -eclipse might be seen. - -One afternoon was spent at an exhibition of New Zealand productions, -which was then being held. Amongst other things we saw many pictures -and photos by local artists, tons of woollen goods, a number of -agricultural implements, and a telpher line made by Mr. Fletcher, of -Dunedin. - -The remainder of our time was spent in interviewing the shops and -streets, which were well worthy of inspection. - -On one jeweller’s shop I read, as well as I can remember, words like -these: - - ‘_Hiki piki waki saki,_ - _Hoki poki rapi taki._’ - -I suppose it was Maori, and meant to inform the natives that watches -and jewellery would be repaired on the shortest notice. - -Mac said I might safely offer £50 to the Maori who could translate it -properly. We felt we were getting near to Maori-land at last, and we -saw several of them in the street. - -The Governor of New Zealand lives at Wellington, this being considered -a tolerably central position for carrying on the public affairs of the -Colony. At the time of our visit Parliament was sitting, but as we were -not distinguished strangers we were not invited to a debate. We were -very sorry about this, for it would have been interesting, especially -if some of the Maori members had spoken. - -Maori speeches are, I am told, characterized by their terseness. Once -there was a great meeting of the Maoris, which had been called to -discuss an important action to be taken in their relations with the -white man. All the chieftains spoke except their greatest orator--the -Maori Disraeli. M. D. remained silent, and sat with his eyes cast upon -the ground until the third day, when at last he rose. There was a -death-like stillness, and everyone was anxious not to lose a single -syllable of the great chieftain’s wisdom. - -Had not Solomon pondered for three days and heard the opinions of his -brothers? - -The burning points at issue were to be defined, and the action to be -taken for everlasting Maori happiness would be declared. - -For a moment the monarch of the woods gazed round the assemblage of his -brothers, then, stretching forth his hand solemnly, he slowly said: - -‘My brothers, the potato is boiled.’ - -After this he drew his cloak around him, and sank back into his -original position. - -For many days even the Maoris pondered over the chieftain’s words. That -they must be the embodiment of great wisdom was universally admitted, -but who could unravel the enigma? - -To me and to all who read these lines the solution of the monarch’s -wisdom is so clear that I fear it could only be regarded as trifling -with intelligence were I to offer an explanation. - -Another speech which I saw reported in one of the New Zealand papers -occurred while I was in the country. This took place in the Legislative -Assembly at Wellington. I may here remark that the Maoris are all tall, -well-built men, and although many of them have their faces tattooed -in curly blue lines, they have a commanding appearance. Members of -the Legislative Assembly, as well as many others, appear in European -clothes, and some of them even sport chimney-pots. The cannibal rose--I -assume him to be a cannibal because it is quite possible that a few -years ago he may have been one. Then with deliberation he addressed his -white brothers: - -‘The English are a great people. The Maoris are a great people. The -Queen of England is endowed with wisdom. The Maori chieftain has -wisdom. The Maori wants his rights.’ - -I do not pretend to give the speeches I have quoted _literatim_--my -only endeavour is to give their general character. - -The Maoris yet retain about half the Northern Island, their country -being known as the King Country. Here they live partly in a state of -civilization, and partly in their original primitive Maori manner. They -are fine intelligent people, but from what I heard and what I saw, are -extremely lazy. Many of them are wealthy, their wealth being chiefly -derived from ground-rents paid to them by the white adventurer who -wishes to occupy portions of their territory. Thus it comes that there -are Maoris worth from £20,000 to £200,000. When papa dies, the property -goes to the daughters. No wonder that Maori maidens secure Caucasian -mates. - -From Wellington we had considerable variety in our fellow-passengers. -There were examples of a new-born aristocracy, the democracy, and the -Maori. - -Amongst the former, there was an elderly gentleman who had a dislike to -plurals. - -His wife and daughter spoke of him as ‘Poo’ papa.’ - -‘Was you sick then, Mary?’ said poo’ papa to his daughter Mary. - -‘Yes, pa,’ said the daughter. - -‘Now, was you then?’ said he. - -‘Poo’ mamma’ was stout, covered with black satin and lace, and -scintillating with diamonds and precious stones--four rings on every -finger. ‘Poo’ papa would have had a poor time of it with poo’ mamma, -had she used her knuckle-dusters on him. The daughter seemed to be a -little ashamed of poo’ papa and poo’ mamma. - -The funniest people on board were a group of five who hung together -like a bunch of grapes. Three of them were men and two of them ladies. -They were all exceedingly short and thick, and had fat flattish round -faces. I never learnt how to distinguish one of the men or one of the -ladies from another. Each of the men had a bushy, dirty, unkempt beard, -and a huge Tam o’Shanter blue bonnet. Their clothes were coarse, dirty, -and ill-fitting. On their feet they had long boots. The two ladies had -each an imitation sealskin jacket and a round pork-pie hat, and when -they went ashore they each carried a small cotton umbrella made of -a gaudy chintz. This peculiar group were peculiar enough to attract -general attention and they were a puzzle to all of us. - -One day Mac announced that he had discovered their occupation. The men, -he declared, were carpenters--he had seen them all carefully examining -a carpenter’s shop. - -‘I was just about to say,’ said our old friend the Yank, ‘that they -were butchers--when I was going down the street, I saw them at the -butcher’s shop examining a leg of mutton.’ - -The Maoris were, I believe, members of the Legislative Assembly -returning to their homes. They were all fine, big men, with grey -beards. But for the tattooing they might have been called handsome. -They were certainly by no means the burlesque of a European. - -That afternoon the Yank found that these three Maori legislators had -been stowed in his cabin. - -‘Look here, Cap,’ said he, addressing our brass-buttoned commander, ‘I -ain’t going to be bunked in with your native Injins. S’pose I see that -tattooed-face looking down at me to-night, I’ll think the devil’s got -me. Tell you now, you can just get Buffalo Bill and Texas Jim cleared -out of that. Just now I went into my cabin, and there I saw that -consumptive-looking one, him with the sulphury-green face, lying on his -back staring straight up--heaving and sobbing--taking a plan of the -roof. - -‘“Suppose your digestion ain’t good?” says I to him, while wiping -myself. - -‘“No,” says he; “the sea tries me.” - -‘“Sorry to hear it,” says I; “excuse me leaving you, but I want a -little fresh air.” - -‘Now, Cap, I’m not going to bunk in with your native Injins, don’t -you believe it. That’s straight, isn’t it?’ said he, appealing to the -company. - -Whether it was straight or not, the Maoris retained the cabin; and our -Yank, I am sorry to say, had to camp on a sofa in the saloon. These -little facts may be of value to future travellers by the monopolist -line of steamers. - -At the next port our American friend saw some sheep coming on board, -and at once asked the ‘Cap’ whether they also were to have berths in -the saloon. - -‘I guess everything counts here,’ he remarked. - -This was at Napier. Napier is situated on a peninsula, at the end of -which there are high whitish-grey bluffs. - -Many of our passengers went ashore in a little steamer called the -_Boojum_, and of course landed on the opposite side of the peninsula to -where the town is built. - -The passengers now became thicker and thicker. In every cabin there -were at least four, and all of them, at least those in my cabin, -through their habits, were disgusting. For some days I was unable to -open a portmanteau, and had to continue without a change of clothes. - -The next port was Gisborne, where we again anchored several miles from -the shore. Here I was told there were a great number of Maoris, the -remainder of the population being chiefly composed of lawyers, who get -considerable practice by advocating the rights of their tattooed-faced -clients. - -I was told that Gisborne boasted of forty full-fledged practitioners, -and a number of fledgelings; and from one or two specimens who came on -board our vessel, they must be exceedingly good talkers. - -I have seen a lawyer’s signboard. It gave the gentleman’s name, -followed by barrister and solicitor. After this there was a translation -of what was above in Maori. It finished up with ‘Roia,’ which I suppose -is their way of writing ‘lawyer.’ - -Mac and I had the intention of getting out at Gisborne, and going -thence, viâ the Hot Lakes, overland to Auckland. - -When we heard that this was the place where the intelligent Maoris -murdered all the whites on one occasion, that the stages by the coach -averaged about fifty miles each, and finally that we might possibly -fall into the hands of the Roias, we thought we would continue on where -we were, and approach the Hot Lakes from the other side. - -While lying at Gisborne, we saw a sight to which colonials are probably -accustomed. This was the shipment of about 400 sheep. They came -alongside in barges. At first the sheep were put in iron cages six or -seven together, and then, by means of a steam-winch, hoisted up to the -deck. This, however, was not quick enough, so a number of thin pieces -of cord, very like log-line, were arranged with slip-knots. Each sheep -to be lifted was secured by fastening the slip-knot round its stomach. -Six or seven cords, each with its sheep, were then taken and fastened -to the hook which before had raised the cages. As the chain with its -hook tightened by the lifting of the winch, the six or seven sheep were -dragged sprawling across the deck until they were suspended--when up -they went, heads and tails, a living, swinging, twirling mass, bumping -against the side of the ship until they reached the deck. Here they -were released, and kicked and thumped until they moved to their proper -quarters. - -The whole performance was sickening, and all of us, who were not -accustomed to see the handling of sheep, regarded it as brutal. Several -of them died after this. - -The Yank, who was always straightforward with his opinions, ‘guessed -that these fellows’ (meaning those who were doing the torturing) ‘would -figure in the _Police News_ in his country.’ - -Maybe we were tender-hearted and our sympathies for the sheep arose -from ignorance. Anyhow, its effect on me was sufficient to disturb my -night’s rest. I dreamt I was in a big ship (it wasn’t in New Zealand), -and all the officers on board were sheep. There were the little sailor -sheep with blue shirts, and officer sheep with gilt buttons. - -Presently a load of stout old gentlemen, some of whom seemed as if they -enjoyed a glass of port wine and an easy-chair after their dinner, came -alongside. These were directors of the steamship company. - -When the sheep saw them, they were delighted, and skipped about on -their hind-legs; for you must remember they were walking about and -looking just like little men. After looking through his glasses at the -cargo, the sheep-captain said: - -‘Here are some directors. Get out the thin rope, boys. Thin rope, mind. -Yes, that will do. Put it round their stomachs. Now hoist away--head -and tail.’ - -Then all the sheep laughed and grinned, whilst the directors, who were -coming up swinging against the side of the ship, shrieked for mercy. -Then they were dumped down on the deck like a heap of big ripe grapes, -unhooked, and kicked into pens. One or two of them died. - -These proceedings, which caused a great deal of merriment amongst the -crew, were hardly over, when there was a fearful squealing and cawing -heard at the back of the ship, and all the sheep ran aft to see what -was the matter. - -‘Why, it’s only a lot of molly-hawks and albatrosses crying,’ said the -captain. - -To mop up their tears some of them held little bits of seaweed and -bladder-wrack in their claws. - -‘That’s funny,’ said the commander, looking at the birds through his -telescope. - -‘Very funny,’ said the first mate, who liked to keep in with his chief. - -‘Very, very funny,’ said the second officer. - -Then everybody laughed. - -‘Let us ask them why they are so sad. Where is my speaking-trumpet?’ -said the captain. - -The trumpet was brought, and a big sheep, holding it up to his face, -after several preliminary ‘Baas,’ shouted out, ‘Ahoy, my feathered -friends! why these drippings?’ - -‘You’ve killed our friends, our best friends, our very dear friends!’ -replied the sobbing molly-hawks; ‘we can never fly after your ships any -more.’ - -At this point the tears came pattering down like rain, as if there had -been a thunderstorm. - -‘Be more explicit, companions of the pastures,’ yelled the big sheep -through the trumpet. ‘We do not wish to lose your pleasant company.’ - -‘Why,’ said the molly-hawks, ‘the gentlemen you have been stringing up -practised economy. They allowed the cooks to buy bad butter, so that -the passengers would not eat the beefsteak-pies and pastry they made, -which were therefore all thrown overboard to us. All the birds in the -South Pacific knew this, and it can’t happen any more.’ - -Then they wept until the sheep had to put on their oilskin coats for -fear of spoiling their uniforms. - -The day after we left Gisborne, we steamed into Auckland. Auckland -harbour is decidedly pretty, and well sheltered. On one side of it -there is an island-like promontory, covered with volcanic cones and -villas, and at one end are several batteries. Now that the batteries -have been made, the Aucklanders feel that cruisers cannot lie off the -town and dictate terms. - -On the opposite side, where the steamers lie against the wharf, is the -town. The ground on which it is built is irregular. Behind it rises -Mount Eden, another old volcano. There are volcanic cones even in the -town itself. - -When you walk along a street in Auckland, you are as likely to find -yourself climbing up an old volcanic slope as not. People live in -volcanoes, sometimes even in their craters. You can hear people -discussing the price of certain volcanoes. - -‘You know, £4,000 is what I could give for little Pluto,’ says one man. - -‘Well, I only wanted the crater,’ says another. - -There is certainly a novelty in buying and selling these slumbering -giants. Of course the buyers and sellers trade in them on the -understanding that they are dead. We hope they are. - -There has been great competition for some of these phenomena on the -north shore, a moderate-sized one selling for £5,000. The price, -however, varies with the size and the shape. If it has a good crater, -it may be very expensive. Of course, when buying a volcano, it is well -to see that it is in a good position, for they are very difficult to -move. - -At night-time the streets of Auckland are dull and badly lighted, -but during the day they are lively, and there is much to engage -the attention of a stranger. Amongst the shops I was particularly -struck with one of the book-stores, where the free-reading custom -was licensed. To add a charm to the book you were studying, a piano -discoursed lively music. - -Auction-rooms were a great feature in the Auckland streets. At one of -them I saw a man trying to sell a counterpane. His face was red, and -his voice was hoarse. It was always ‘going, going!’--then he would -pause, and appeal to his audience, which was one man and a boy: - -‘Really, gentlemen, this fine counterpane for one and sixpence.’ Then -persuasively: ‘Make it two bob.’ - -‘Well, two bob,’ says the man, and it was promptly knocked down as a -cheap bargain. - -There were many hoardings and advertisements in the street. - -‘It will pay you to cross the street and look over our stock,’ was hung -over one shop; but right before me, on my side of the street, there was -a counter-blast: - -‘It will pay you to walk twenty yards farther on, and look at our -stock.’ - -The stocks in many of the shops were large and expensive. - -Most of the shops were faced with verandas, extending quite across the -sidewalk. These verandas were all different in design, helping to make -the buildings appear very unsymmetrical. - -A great problem for the stranger in Auckland is to discover why so many -baggage-carts, which are called ‘expresses,’ stand the whole day long -in certain parts of the town. - -In Victoria Street, which commences as a long hill, you see these carts -standing, one behind the other, in a line too long for the eye to -carry you to the end of it. I discovered that the secret lay in their -charges, for if you engage one of them, the driver will make enough -money to keep him for the next week. - -The meat-shops were pointed out to me as a speciality, but, as I have -said before, I dislike exhibitions of dead bodies. Certainly one of the -shops was beautifully decorated, and all the lambs and other creatures, -which were hung up by their hind-legs, were ornamented with rosettes -and bouquets. These additions possibly toned down the appearance of the -shambles, but they looked as much out of place as a blue ribbon does -round the neck of a statue. - -To me a butcher’s shop is as pleasing as a dissecting-room or a morgue. - -With a little training we shall have public windows in which to exhibit -the operations of the slaughterhouse. Butchers’ shops ought to have -screens before them. - -Besides the shops there were the theatres, public gardens, an embryonic -University, and a Museum to be seen. At the Museum there was the usual -collection of Maori productions, implements, and weapons, mineralogical -and geological specimens, a good collection of pictures, and, not to -do the place an injustice, a little moa. - -‘A little moa what?’ said Mac. - -This was the second time he made his moa joke, so I remained silent. - -I gazed at the rusty-looking little animal for some time, for I knew -it might be years before I should again have the opportunity of -interviewing this extinct giant of the feathered world. - -In and about volcanic Auckland a common sign is, ‘Ash, lapilli, scoria, -lava, bombs, etc., on sale.’ When you order a load the vendor asks how -you like it--vesicular, amygdaloidal, pumiceous, crypto-crystalline, or -how? - -Walking about Auckland made me very tired. Coming down a hill you have -your toes jammed in the end of your boots, while going up a hill you -have your body hanging over your toes. Boots with elevating toes and -heels would be a valuable boon to those who live in Auckland. - -One climb we made was up Mount Eden. It was a pleasant walk, and the -view of the crater filled with browsing cattle, and then of the town -and the surrounding country, well repaid the trouble. When on the -top we could easily count some twenty other volcanic cones, many of -which were accompanied by streams of lava. At one time the district of -Auckland must have been bubbling like a porridge-pot. - -‘Pretty hot business in Auckland some years ago,’ said Mac, as he wiped -his forehead after the climb, and looked down on the twenty extinct -porridge-pots. - -When returning, we took a look at the Cemetery. From the ages -indicated on the tombstones it would appear that the climate of New -Zealand is good for the human species. One noticeable thing was the -number of people who had been killed by falls from horses. Is there -more riding in New Zealand than in other places, or are the horses more -frisky, or are the people more clumsy? No doubt there is a reason, if -it could be discovered. - -One afternoon I went to see a review of the various rifle corps -which have been raised in Auckland. There were six companies, all in -different uniforms, with a grizzly old general commanding the lot. For -a long time they stood in rows doing nothing. The old general, however, -kept capering up and down, while two aides-de-camp struggled to keep -behind him. Now and then a man would gallop across the field with his -sword up and his horse’s tail whirling round and round, as if it was -the motive power that made it go. - -I thought he was going to have a sham fight with the general; but when -he reached him he suddenly put his sword up to his nose, then stuck it -in his sheath, whirled round, and went scampering away to where he had -come from. - -It was a nice warm afternoon, and as I had nothing to do, I did not -object to these military manœuvres. - -By-and-by they began to move. The idea was to make the six companies -march in oblique lines until at certain points they stopped and wheeled -to form one long line. They tried it a lot of times, but the line they -made had always big gaps left in it. - -The crowd said it was the fault of the sergeants, who had to run ahead -and mark out the wheeling-points. - -The number of Volunteers is about 300, and as that is a number which -history tells us can get back safely from the jaws of death, we hope -they may do well. The Aucklanders are proud of their Volunteers, and -they may well be so. - -After this I took a cruise in the domain, where I saw a lovely cricket -ground, where eighteen cricket-matches can be played simultaneously. -Outside the cricket ground two or three football-matches were going -on. I sat down upon the side of a volcano to watch them. The place -where the play was going on was in the hollows between several small -volcanoes, or, at least, volcanic slopes. It was all fresh and green, -and round the sides of the grounds were clumps of oaks and other trees -bursting into summer costume. Beyond this arcadian scene came islands, -islets, more volcanoes, and then the ocean. - -With Italian scenery and warm sunshine I felt as comfortable as a -tom-cat sunning itself on a red-tile roof. - -On the most distant island, away out in the blue ocean, Sir George Grey -lives. Sir George is a great man in New Zealand, a lover of the Maori, -and generally original in his conceptions. Anyone would be original if -they lived the Robinson-Crusoe-like life that Sir George endures. They -say that he does not get many callers. - -Everything in Auckland was very nice, excepting my hotel. I was told -that it was the best in the place, but the statement made it no better. -The bedrooms were like boxes, and everything was untidy and badly -managed. The arrival of some passengers by the American mail quite -demoralized the establishment. The waiters were bewildered with the -orders, and to get anything to eat you had to forage for yourself. I -remember that I contented myself with a salt-spoon to stir my coffee. - -I spent one afternoon on the north shore, where there is a race-course -and some pretty walks. I was rather struck with one house, called -Rangitoto View. Rangitoto is a volcanic island lying off Auckland, the -view of which is exceedingly striking. Any house that faces Rangitoto -has before it a picture. Now, this house faced a stone quarry on the -side of a hill, Rangitoto being out of sight. - - - - -_TRIP TO THE HOT LAKES._ - - -There are several ways by which a visitor from Auckland can reach the -Wonderland of New Zealand. The quickest way is by steamer to Tauranga, -and then in coach to Ohinemutu, where you are at once amongst the hot -springs. By starting on certain days in the week, when coaches and -steamers are arranged to meet, the journey takes twenty-four hours. - -Mac and I went viâ Cambridge to Ohinemutu, and returned by the Thames. -These routes are much longer, but that was not to be objected to, as it -gave us better opportunities for seeing the country. - -We left for Cambridge by the 11.15 a.m. train, reaching the end of our -journey at dark. Travelling with us there was a gentleman who knew the -Maoris, spoke their language, and who gave us much information about -Maori-land. - -A few miles after starting we passed close to a place called Onehunga, -where there are some large works for the conversion of iron-sand -into iron. The sand is collected on the sea-shore, then dried, and -passed through a magnetic arrangement by which the black sand is -separated from earthy impurities with which it may be mixed. Next it -is mixed with charcoal and deoxidized in retorts. From the retorts, -where it ought not to come in contact with the air, it is passed into -reverberatory furnaces, where it is puddled and made into blooms. After -this it passes through shingling machines, steam-hammers, and rolls, as -in ordinary ironworks. - -On the beach where the ore occurs, an old Maori cooking-stove was -turned up. The method of cooking was to heat stones, which were then -put into a small pit and covered with a few ferns. The food was placed -on the ferns, and after being moistened to cause the generation of -steam, the whole was closed in with more ferns and a cloth, and allowed -to sweat. - -Eight or nine human skeletons gave a clear idea of the nature of the -joints. At one time Maoris were in great force about Auckland. This is -indicated by the remains of many old fortifications or Pahs. - -The top of Mount Eden is terraced and embanked all round its summit -with the remains of such fortifications. The number of old shell-heaps -or kitchen-middens which cover the mountain also points to a former -population. - -For sixteen miles or so, we ran along between green fields and green -volcanic cones. Here and there moss-covered black stones indicated -the line of a lava stream. Many of the fields were walled with blocks -of lava, whilst the line on which we ran was ballasted for miles with -volcanic ash and scoria. At Mercer we struck the Waikata River, and the -country became undulating and swampy. Parts of it were covered with Ti -bush, and the whole looked like a brown moorland. - -Our average rate of travelling was about ten miles an hour, a pace -which might have delighted Stephenson, but which we found tedious. When -we arrived in Wonderland, as the lake country is called, our companion -wished us to go some 120 miles in the bush to interview the Maori -king, to whom he kindly offered a letter of introduction. As Mac and I -didn’t hanker after copper-coloured royalty, we politely declined the -invitation. The reason that the lake district is called Wonderland is -on account of visitors wondering why they were ever induced to pay it a -visit. - -At one of the small stations an untidy little man, with a shock head, a -fuzzy beard, and a pair of spectacles, joined us. - -‘One of our traffic managers,’ whispered our Maori-speaking friend; -‘I’ll have a talk to him.’ - -‘Good-morning, Mr. Smith,’ said Maori. - -‘Good-morning, good-morning, Mr. Maori,’ was Mr. Smith’s reply. - -‘You’re getting things to work very nicely on your line this year. Very -few of the other lines can beat what you’ve done up here.’ - -It may here be mentioned that the carriages were dirty, curtainless, -and uncomfortable; the average pace was, as I have said, about ten -miles an hour, and there were only two trains each way per day. - -Smith felt Maori’s compliment, and replied with a sigh--‘Yes, yes, -it has cost me a lot of thought. You can’t imagine the anxiety and -scheming I have gone through to get things as they are.’ - -Then he passed his hand over his little brow, as if he wished us to -imagine that his brain was yet feeling the effects of the strain that -had been imposed upon it. - -‘Everything fits to a nicety, and I think--the employés are satisfied, -and the public are pleased.’ - -‘You’re quite right,’ said Maori, with a twinkle in his eye; ‘the very -fact that no one grumbles shows that things are satisfactory. It’s -impossible to improve on what you have done, Mr. Smith.’ Mac afterwards -suggested to me that walking would be a great improvement. - -It was dark when we reached Cambridge. After some tea at an hotel -called Kirkwood’s Cottage, at the recommendation of our landlady, we -adjourned to the Town Hall to witness the spiritualistic performance -of Professor Baldwin. The performance, which was clever and amusing, -consisted of many rope-tying tricks after the manner of the original -Davenport Brothers, finding a pin hidden amongst the audience, -and finally an exhibition by Mrs. Baldwin of her powers as a -thought-reader. In the latter performance you wrote a question on a -piece of paper which you placed in your pocket. Mrs. Baldwin undertook, -while in a trance, to tell you what the question was, and to give the -same an answer. How she succeeded to the extent she did was a mystery. -All we could do when we got outside was to say, ‘Well, it’s a trick, do -you know.’ - -When I went to my bedroom that night, I observed standing on my -dressing-table a spherically shaped blue flask, with a corrugated -surface. When I first went into the room on my arrival, I had seen this -same bottle, and thought it was a scent-bottle or something or other -which had been left in the room by accident. As I undressed I could -not keep my eyes away from the queer-looking bottle, which I observed -was corked and had evidently not been opened. Some sort of schnaps, -perhaps? No, I know what it is; we are getting near the hot springs, -and there is some sort of mineral water put up here as a sample just to -induce strangers to buy. It might, however, be whisky, I said to myself -on reflection; but whatever it was, if I opened it, I must pay. - -So, blowing the light out, I jumped into bed, congratulating myself -on having escaped from a dodgy old landlady. Still, I could not help -thinking about the blue bottle. It was so very different to all bottles -that I had seen before. It’s a funny way of forcing business by -exciting the curiosity of people who want to go to sleep, I thought. -And so I kept on thinking, and thinking, and speculating as to the -contents and _raison d’être_ of the blue bottle. I suppose it must have -been two hours before I went to sleep. - -When I awakened, the first thing I saw was the blue bottle. The -prominent position it occupied upon the dressing-table, together with -its oddness of shape and colour, made it an object from which I could -not remove my eyes. The more I looked at the thing the more I desired -to solve the riddle. - -My curiosity at last escaped control. Schnaps, whisky, scent, mineral -water, bomb-shell, or whatever you are, I must investigate, even if -it cost the expenses of a funeral. I could not stand the mystery any -longer, so with a one, two, three, I tumbled out of bed and picked up -the bugbear. _Semper paratus_, it said on the top. Yes, it’s always -been ready. Then on the neck were directions as to how I could break -it and throw it on the fire. By jingo, it’s only a hand-grenade, and -here I’ve been fooling round thinking it might be whisky. As I put the -bottle down I saw a rope peeping out from beneath the dressing-table. -Looking underneath, I found a new rope with knots in it fastened at one -end to the wall. This was a fire-escape. When a fire occurs you shy the -bottle at the conflagration, and then bolt in your _robe de chambre_ to -the window, and slide down the rope into the garden. - -Mac’s room had similar furniture. If I had known of all these -precautionary measures before I went to bed, I might not have slept at -all. In time I got accustomed to knotted ropes and blue bottles, for I -found them in almost every house where we stayed. - -In some hotels I heard that from time to time they had a fire drill. -They usually, so my informants said, chose a night when there was a -guest with a red head staying in the house. At about 2 a.m. ‘_Fire! -fire!_’ is shouted through the building; the guests all rise, shy the -bottles at the red-headed visitor, and slide down the ropes. The ladies -object to the performance, as they consider that they do not look well -dangling on a rope. However, as the people wish to stick to the _semper -paratus_ motto of their bottles, the fire drill is not neglected. If -the man with a red head is not killed, he receives profuse apologies -for his hair having been mistaken for a conflagration. I did not see a -fire drill. - -We left Cambridge very early next morning. The conveyance was of the -usual stagecoach type. Mac and I had inside seats, I being on the -weather-side and he on the lee-side of the vehicle. By lee-side is -meant the side that was usually leaning over a precipice. - -Shortly after starting we dived down a steep slope at the end of the -town, and crossed the Waikata River. All the country was open and -brown. Here and there a lonely cabbage-tree reared its green round -head. Ti-trees, which in height are anything between six inches and six -feet, occurred in patches. They looked like sage-bushes, and from their -twiggy character might possibly make good besoms. - -Next in importance to the Ti-tree comes bracken. The Maoris eat young -bracken, that is, when they can get nothing else. When Ti-trees and -brackens find some useful application, New Zealand will have the means -of speedily reducing her public debt. The public debt of New Zealand is -per head greater than that of any other country, the population of the -country being about 500,000, and the debt about £30,000,000. - -Sir Julius Vogel, a New Zealand Disraeli, has much to answer for as -author of the incubus. - -The defence for having such a debt is that with the money they build -railways and other public works, and as these pay, or are destined to -yield huge profits, it is a good thing to have a debt. - -The most wonderful things up the Waikata River are the terraces. When -you look ahead you see the river like a long bright band surging down -towards you, between high perpendicular banks. Above these banks on -either side there is a strip of flat ground, perhaps fifty, perhaps -two hundred yards in width, and then two more steep banks. Above these -there is more flat ground, and another set of banks--each flat strip -representing an old flood plain of the river. In some places five or -six of these terraces could be counted, each of them being beautifully -defined. They had the appearance of so many parallel roads cut in the -hills on either side the river gorge. - -The first sixteen miles of our road was very clayey, in fact, places -were so extremely sticky and puddle-like that we were in danger -of being stuck fast. In summer-time the driver said it was like a -billiard-table. What we crossed was like a brick-field. - -After twelve miles’ driving we stopped at a post-office. There were no -houses. The country looked like open moorland covered with bracken. The -post-office was a square box about as big as a tea-chest. It stood at -the side of the road on four stout legs in amongst the bracken. It was -painted sky-blue, and on it was written, in very large letters, ‘V.R. -Matanabe Letterbox.’ - -The V.R. brought such vivid pictures to my eyes of the chairs in a -British Consulate, that I had to turn my head from Mac and hide my -sorrow. - -A great deal of the land along the road is wire fenced. If it was -put upon wooden posts or electrically insulated tests would tell the -squatter where it was broken. - -This would be convenient for travellers who had lost their bearings. -They might break a wire and then sit down until a shepherd came to -repair the damage. - -Inside the fences I saw a lot of fat cattle. They were all red and had -white faces. Ti-trees and bracken appear to suit cattle. - -After twenty-one miles we stayed at a solitary inn, where there was -an Irish landlord, and many pictures of O’Connell, Parnell, and other -Hibernian celebrities. - -When we looked at Dan with his thumb in the armhole of his waistcoat, -we thought of his famous address to a mob of his supporters: - -‘Will ye live for yéer Dan?’ - -‘We will, we will.’ - -‘Will ye fight for yéer Dan?’ - -‘We will, we will.’ - -‘Will ye run when the cavalry come?’ - -‘We will, we will.’ - -If our host had not been so jovial we should certainly have looked -under the table for a box of dynamite. I did not note the name of -this place because, as I told Mac, it would probably be one of those -heathen names with forty-three _hiki pikis_ and _rapi tapis_ which we -could neither pronounce nor write correctly. That evening I learnt that -it was called Oxford. It is either at Oxford or the place next to it -where there is a _lusus naturæ_, which for many years has attracted the -attention of the medical faculty. This is a boy who has the attributes -of a small bull. When a stranger arrives he comes and snuffs, then he -stares and snorts and ‘moos’ like an ox. When a gate or door is shut, -instead of opening it with his hands he will stand in front of it and -paw the ground. If it is not opened he lowers his head and butts. It -is expected that some day he will smash his skull, and this remarkable -phenomenon will be lost to science. - -The last and worst part of our journey was through sixteen miles of -what is known in these parts as ‘the bush.’ At the entrance to it there -were some pretty steep precipice-like slopes, about 1,000 feet in -depth, from the edges of which our wheels often did not have more than -six inches clearance. - -Mac, who was on the hanging or lee-side of the coach, said he did not -like it. - -To describe the sixteen-mile bush I must ask you to imagine the Suez -Canal lined on either bank with tall trees, and an undergrowth so thick -that it formed a dense black wall. Next imagine the Suez Canal, instead -of being straight, to be curved. Finally, imagine the Suez Canal to be -filled with from six inches to two feet of stiff clay and water-holes. -When you have done this, you will have a picture of something not very -much like the Suez Canal, but very much like the sixteen-mile bush. - -Some of the fern leaves were big enough to thatch a haystack. A -botanist collecting specimens of these plants would require twenty-four -foot screens in which to press his specimens. Many of the trees were -covered with things which Mac called orchids, and which he said were -worth from £5 to £20 apiece. I expect he thought I should stop the -coach and begin to climb. - -The trunks of some of the trees were completely buried by these -parasites, while their heads were bowed down by the weight they had to -carry. - -If a tree was cut down, the grass, or whatever it is which grows upon -it, ought to fodder a herd of oxen for several months. - -Vine-like climbers are very common in this bush. There is one called -the Rata, which grows to a larger size than the tree it embraces. Many -tall, straight trees which were being slowly compressed to death by the -rata, looked like huge maypoles clasped by monstrous centipedes. - -I don’t know how the rata grows, whether it commences at the top of -the tree and grows downwards, or whether it commences below and grows -upwards. Perhaps it does both; anyhow, if you cut a rata off near the -ground it will send down roots and re-establish communication. - -A guide-book we had said the road was extremely interesting, calling -our attention to the rata-trees and £20 orchids. - -The chief interest which Mac and I found was with regard to our hats, -which were continually in danger of being smashed on the roof of the -coach. The bumps and rolls that we experienced along the Suez Canal -were perfectly awful. Every moment you expected the vehicle either -to capsize or else roll down a precipice. Most of the time you were -holding on to an upright or a strap, like a cat to a waterspout. And -all this time you could hear the driver telling a fellow outside that -in summer it was as smooth as a billiard-table. Interesting indeed! -Yes, it was full of interest, but the man who wrote that book ought to -be hung. - -The sun was setting when we emerged from the bush and descended -towards Lake Rotorua. A short drive brought us round to the village of -Ohinemutu. The hills near the lake are moderately high, and of a sad -green colour. - -This particular bit of Wonderland will not appal anyone by its beauty. -But for the steam rising from numerous hot springs all is still and -dead. The faint smell of the springs is not pleasant. - -There are several hotels here for the convenience of visitors wishing -to enjoy the baths. There are baths for everything; one will cure the -gout, another the rheumatism, another the toothache. - -One of the baths is called the Priest’s Bath, another one the Lobster, -another Madame Rachael. The quantity of water and the temperature of -many of the springs vary considerably with changes of the wind. - -When you want a bath, you find that you have at least to cross a road, -and generally to wander through the scrub to some wretchedly-built -shanty open to the heavens at more places than its windows and doors. -Here you undress in the cold, and if it is wet in the rain. - -After a trial of one of these primitive baths, the arrangements for -which are hardly comparable with those which savages would provide, it -seems astonishing that invalids are not killed rather than cured. The -whites of New Zealand have come into a legacy which they have not yet -learned to use. When in a bath, put up your hands, and you are cool; -put them down, and you are hot; always go home with your wet towel -round your neck, and you cannot catch cold, are amongst the many other -wonderful things which the new owners of the springs have discovered. - -There were one or two visitors at the hotel. One of them told us that -he had been out all day exploring mud-holes and hot springs. - -‘Took a hammer, a magnifying-glass, and a bottle of vitriol acid, you -know.’ - -‘And what was that for?’ we asked. - -‘Just a lark, you know. Testing the waters.’ - -He only wanted a pair of spectacles to become a complete _savant_. - -Another visitor told us of his experiences. The Lobster bath was a -terror. But according to him everything was a terror--the roads were -terrors, the lake was a terror, some of the women were terrors (I -believed this). Terror is a New Zealand adjective. Shilling knives are -advertised as ‘perfect terrors.’ You can’t go wrong if you call a thing -a terror. - -A young Englishman, however, called everything and everybody ‘a -Johnny.’ Mac thought him as big an ass as the other visitors. - -That night it was cold, and in the morning the ground was white with -frost. - -There are many Maoris at Ohinemutu, and we had good opportunities to -see both them and their houses. They are physically fine, but with -coarse, broad features. They are tolerably honest, fearful beggars, -consummate liars, and dreadfully lazy. - -Their hardest work is to plant and dig potatoes, smoke, and -occasionally go in search of kauri gum, which they sell to foreign -merchants. - -The Government built them a mill at Wairoa, but the Maoris did not -think well of it, so they took out the machinery, and now use it as a -dwelling-house. It was too hard work to grind corn. - -Their homes (_wharis_) are, to look at, like the roof of a thatched -cottage minus the side-walls. At one end there are usually a number of -elaborately carved pieces of wood, many of the figures on which are -highly indecent. - -They have churches, where they pray and sing according to formulæ -taught them by the missionaries. - -In the afternoon we had an eleven miles’ drive over to Wairoa, the -headquarters from which one visits Rotomahana and the terraces--_the -glory of Wonderland_. - -The drive was over a pretty country, past two crater lakes. One -of these, with a white bottom, has an exceedingly beautiful blue -appearance. The other is dark green. - -Part of the way is through bush, very similar to what we had seen on -the way up from Cambridge. If we except skylarks, which are everywhere -in New Zealand, the country appears to be entirely without bird life. -In the sixteen-mile bush, a road-mender told me that in three months he -might have seen six birds. - -We stayed at the Terrace Hotel. Here there is a large quantity of -sweetbrier. You meet with the plant in many parts of the northern -island. It is said to have been introduced by a missionary. It is now a -pest. - -At Wairoa we were introduced to a curiosity in the form of an -animal-plant, or true zoophyte. The animal is undoubtedly a -caterpillar; but the plant, which appears to grow out of one end of the -caterpillar, may be anything. It is usually from six inches to two feet -in length, and looks like a flexible root or piece of a vine. - -Our host said it was a young rata-vine, and the way in which the -combination of plant and animal came about was as follows. The -caterpillar lives beneath the rata-tree, and when the seeds are shed -they fall upon the caterpillar beneath. Most of the seeds roll off the -caterpillar’s back, but it sometimes happens that one will lodge in a -particularly large crease at the back of the caterpillar’s neck. Here -it germinates, and the caterpillar, being irritated by the process, -digs into the ground, where it dies while struggling to release itself -from the parasite. The parasite then grows, and the natives seeing the -shoot, carefully dig it up, dry it, and keep it as a curio to be sold -to the guileless tourist. - -Our coachman who was there said: - -‘No, that’s not it. I’ve found plenty of them; the root sticks in the -ground, and the caterpillar is on the end of it, standing up like -fruit on a tree. The caterpillar sees the young rata-tree sprouting, -and swallowing the end of it, gets stuck fast--the end of the plant -swelling in its mouth. The plant goes on growing, and the caterpillar -gets shoved up in the air end on.’ - -A tourist who was there said that a Maori told him that the caterpillar -ate the seed, and then it germinated. - -Here Mac broke in with the remark, that if it chewed the seed, the seed -could not germinate. - -The tourist seemed annoyed, and said: - -‘Well, sir, it doesn’t eat it, but it swallows it like a Cockle’s -pill, and then it germinates. The body of the caterpillar becomes -a flower-pot for the plant, which grows until it has exhausted the -contents of its friend, and then both of them die. The caterpillar is -neither up nor down, but it lies horizontally with the plant sticking -out of its mouth.’ - -Here we appealed to the specimens, and pointed at the fact that the -plant might come out of the tail of the animal or the back of its neck; -but it was certain that it did not come out of its mouth. - -‘Everybody gets mixed about them inseks,’ said a gentleman in a flannel -shirt, who had been listening to the argument. ‘The way they comes to -be as they is, is because they’ve been stuck in when you sees them. -It’s a sandpiper as does it. The sandpiper builds in rata-trees, and, -just to ornament the surroundings, fills up its spare time in sticking -caterpillars on the branches. I’ve seen a sandpiper and its mate in -two hours cover a tree so thick that you couldn’t see the sky for -caterpillars.’ - -By this time I had learnt that a caterpillar did something with the -rata-seed, or else the rata-seed did something with a caterpillar, or -else a sandpiper----here I got mixed. - -But rata-trees begin to grow from the tops of other trees! Perhaps -our zoophyte was found suspended in the air like fruit. Altogether it -was as mysterious as a mermaid. Somehow or other, I don’t think it -has anything to do with rata-trees. Caterpillars do not take pills. -Possibly they may take in the spores of a fungus which use the stomach -of their host as a flower-pot. - -Another curious object for the naturalist was a plant called _Pisonia_ -something or other. A friend of mine had one in his garden, and he gave -me some seeds. The peculiarity of this plant is that it catches birds. -The way in which this is done is by its having seed-pods covered with a -kind of birdlime. Insects stick on the birdlime, and sparrows and other -feathered pets coming for a feed, get stuck themselves. Cats then go -round and catch the sparrows. I never heard of the tree catching cats. -I am sorry I never made inquiries. - -Next day we went to see the terraces--the hub of Wonderland. Our guide -was a Maori called Sophia. Sophia and Kate are historical characters in -Wonderland, and everybody who visits this district passes through the -hands of one of these ladies. - -Kate, who is decorated with a medal for having saved life--I think it -was the life of a bishop--was away on her twenty-fifth honeymoon, so we -fell into the arms of Sophia. Sophia is a big woman, and it would be -a big man who ever escaped should he ever fall into her arms. I don’t -know her age, but I should guess it at being about forty-five. - -Although Sophia is masculine, she speaks English with the affectation -of a well-bred duchess. She is always merry, and has a twinkle in her -eye, indicating that she is continually on the _qui vive_ for fun. She -wore a short dress like a Welshwoman, black stockings, and buckled -shoes. - -From the hotel we walked a mile or so down to the lake, where we all -embarked in a whale-boat. Here we had a row of a mile and a half down a -river-like arm of the lake before we were fairly launched in the lake -itself. Before us were the rugged rocky heights of Mount Tarawera, a -volcano after which the lake is named. On the opposite side of the lake -there are hills covered with trees. - -It was a pull of nearly eight miles against a stiff breeze, before we -came to the top of the lake. On the way we made one stoppage. This -was to interview a fisherman in a dug-out. Sophia told us that to buy -craw-fish from the fishermen of Tarawera was the correct thing, and -as we could not oppose the wishes of a lady, we stopped. Luckily the -fisherman had not caught any craw-fish. We were very cold and a little -wet when we reached the head of the lake. - -A walk of a mile and a half up the banks of a small creek, which was in -many places steaming, and we were on the shores of Lake Rotomahana and -at the foot of the White Terrace. At a distance the terrace looked like -one side of a pyramid which had been made by piling together rows of -white wash-hand basins. - -Another comparison is to liken it to a huge white marble staircase on -the side of a hill, each step being rounded in front and hollowed out -above. These steps, or wash-hand basins, are from one foot to twelve -feet in height, and they are all filled with water, which is hotter -and hotter the higher you ascend. At the top there is one large basin -filled with water that is boiling. When the wind is in a certain -direction (north-east, Sophia said), this may be entirely empty. - -When we saw it, it was twenty feet or so in depth, and overflowing. The -water was running down from basin to basin, getting cooler and cooler -and depositing silica as it descended. One exceedingly striking point -connected with the marble-like basins of limpid water is that the water -appears to be of a brilliant light-blue colour--so blue that it often -looks unnatural. - -The pool at the top looks like a crater that had been breached on one -side, and from the breach a lava stream had descended to the lake. The -terraced arrangements of basins have been built on the lava stream. -In many places, especially at the foot of the terraces, you could see -basins in the process of formation. As a stream of water flows over an -inclined surface, it spreads out to form a fan-like film. - -At a certain distance from its origin it has become sufficiently -cooled to deposit the silica which, while hot, it holds in solution. -The deposition takes place on a curved ridge, the curvature of which -corresponds to the curvature of the flowing fan-like film of water. -In time the ridge grows higher and higher, until finally it becomes -a basin in which water does not cool so rapidly as it did when the -formation commenced. - -We spent a considerable time paddling about the White Terrace. At -one pool Sophia showed us some sparrows which she had placed in the -water to petrify. Strangers are not supposed to remove the stalactitic -formations and various petrifactions which are met with on the -terraces, but a few shillings will usually enable you to procure a few -specimens. - -A short distance from the White Terrace we saw several boiling -caldrons, which every now and then would shoot up columns of water -twenty or thirty feet in height. - -Farther on, we met a dug-out canoe and two boatmen who had brought our -lunch. The potatoes had, of course, been boiled in a hot spring. - -Sophia told us that the last party she had the honour of conducting -were missionaries. One old man had given her a drink of brandy, and -when in the dug-out, where you have to sit fore and aft, had placed -his head in her lap. - -‘I told the old gentleman,’ said Sophia, ‘that drinking brandy and -putting his head into the lap of an unmarried girl did not go well with -a white necktie. What do you think he said? why, he whispered, “Never -mind, Sophia,” and he gave me a squeeze.’ - -Sophia in talking to us always called us ‘poor boys.’ Mac, who was -getting bald, did not like it. - -After lunch, we carefully balanced ourselves in the dug-out, Mac -putting his head in Sophia’s lap, and set sail on Rotomahana. This is -a little round lake bounded on all sides with low hills. Most of them -are steaming with hot springs, the water from which comes down into the -lake, so that the lake itself is hot. - -Although the water is quite warm, and has a nasty taste, some sort of -beetles appear to live in it. The trip across the lake is one where -everything depends on the accuracy of your balance. There is no turning -round, and Mac having once put his head in Sophia’s lap, he had to keep -it there, or else run the risk of overturning the boat. - -The Pink Terrace on the other side of the lake is far more pink in -description and books than it is in reality. On the top there is a -boiling pond, and below this comes the staircase of basins just like -the White Terrace. We had a bath here. We unstripped in a grove of -Ti-trees, and then had our first dip in a pool which was moderately -warm. From this we ascended, step by step, to other pools which were -warmer. - -It would take a long time to describe all we saw. One little valley -we went up was filled with small mud volcanoes, one of which was -called the Porridge-Pot. This contained a beautiful bluish-grey creamy -mud which was gently simmering. All of these had certain medicinal -qualities attributed to them. The Porridge-Pot was good for dysentery. -I took a spoonful of it. It was smooth, warm, and inky. - -Many visitors have written a description of these wonders. One man, who -describes the place in blank verse, speaks of the waters as a ‘lithic -lymph.’ But about all this I will speak more fully in my Guide-book to -New Zealand. - -Another man, struck by the quantity of steam, the pits, the bubbling -and snorting, the ponds of steaming mud, and the sulphurous burning -hillsides, entitled his description ‘An Introduction to the Devil; or, -The Vestibule of Hell.’ I could not get a copy of his work. - -The activity is continually shifting. One day you find a steam-hole in -the scrub, and next day it has gone. Some of these holes are big enough -to receive a bullock, and we were told the story of a herd of bullocks -falling into a hole, and their coming up out of another about a mile -distant from the place where they had disappeared. The subterranean -activity of Wonderland is a kind of public works which are difficult to -inspect. Mac said he would not live there at any price; he was afraid -the whole thing might blow up. - -On our way back Sophia gave us a lot of information about the terraces -and their visitors. Several American speculators had from time to time -paid Rotomahana a visit. - -One old gentleman, who had a craze for natural phenomena, tried to -buy up the terraces; what he wanted to do with them we never properly -learned. One idea was that he was going to cut them up in sections, -and then ship them to New York; another idea was that he intended to -light them up with the electric light, and show them through variously -coloured glasses to visitors; a third notion was that he intended -to convert the heat into electricity, and send it down by wire to -Auckland; but what the old man really wanted was never known. - -‘What did he offer for your Wonderland, Sophia?’ asked Mac. - -‘He offered us a yearly rental of five shillings, or £10 down.’ - -We reached Ohinemutu on Saturday afternoon. In the evening we paid a -shilling to get entrance to a Maori dance, which was going on in a shed -opposite the hotel. - -There were a great many persons present--half-whites, and half-Maoris. -I reckon the half-castes, some of whom were very pretty, in with the -Maoris. The ladies sat in benches round the sides of the room. Five -or six of these ladies were white. Many of the Maori girls, who were -dressed in European dresses, with French boots and plaited pig-tails, -spoiled their appearance by having tattooed lips. - -The music, consisting of a concertina, at length commenced, and a young -Englishman, desirous of dancing with a live Maori, asked a young lady -for the pleasure of her hand. - -‘You play schottische?’ said she. - -‘Waal, no; but can try, you know.’ - -So they commenced. The Maori pranced, and the poor young man acted like -a brake. - -‘You no play schottische?’ she again inquired; and while he was looking -at her, searching for a reply, she gave him a push, and rushed off to -her seat, saying: - -‘Horrible! horrible!’ - -He did not solicit the hand of any other princess. The Ohinemutu -whites, with their dark-skinned friends, danced grandly. All the -quadrilles and country-dances were of an old type. - -The gentlemen would cavotte and shuffle about by themselves in the -centre, then rush in and whirl their partners with vigour. - -A schottische was superb; everybody danced all over the room, throwing -up their arms, cutting little capers, and yelping in true Highland -fashion. - -Mac was enraged. He looked upon all this as an insult to his country. -Why should white people lower themselves by hob-nobbing with, and even -marrying, what he called ‘female cannibals?’ If he were ruler, he would -begin by making them pay taxes, like other people; and if they would -not pay, he would have the country cleared. - -With all his raillery I observed that he did not seem so hard on the -flounces and French boots. - -All Sunday was spent in exploring Ohinemutu. At one place the -Government have built a hospital, and covered in some of the baths. All -the Maoris go to their churches. When the Wesleyans are having service, -the Catholics sit outside playing cards in the porch; and when the -Catholics occupy the buildings, the Wesleyans play cards in the porch. -They are passionately fond of cards. - -By the afternoon all the hot springs and cooking-holes had been -examined, and life at Ohinemutu became a burden. This resulted in -all the guests taking a nap. Ten miles away I heard that a big Maori -funeral was going on. These funerals are conducted on the principle of -a wake. The visitors eat, drink, and mourn. They may last two weeks. - -We left Ohinemutu next morning at seven, in the coach for Cambridge. -When I came to take my seat, I found that the box-seat had been -occupied by Mac and a gentleman with a red beard. Inside there was a -Maori lady, evidently the wife of the gentleman with the red beard. - -I felt a little annoyed at having an inside place, and I showed my -annoyance by sitting on a narrow seat opposite to my Maori, rather than -on the broad and relatively comfortable seat by her side. But having -taken my seat, I was stupid, and preferred discomfort to giving in and -shifting. - -I succeeded in getting discomfort fairly well. For thirty-three miles -I was dragged, with my back to the horses, looking at rows of trees, -cart-ruts, sticks, pebbles, and puddles, all appearing to chase each -other and run backwards. - -Inside, however, I could study my tame savage. She had a dark olive -complexion, black flashing eyes, and white incisors. She did not wear -feathers on her head, but a Sultana plush hat, turned up on one side, -_à la_ Madam Rousby, and decorated with ostrich plumes. Round her neck -she had a ‘masher’ collar. Her dress was a tight-fitting gabrielle, -ornamented with bretelle, the fronts apparently opening over a long -plaited vest, which had an effective extension over the entire front. - -The skirt was draped and trimmed with gore plaiting, the ornamentation -being soutache embroidery. I estimated the garment as containing -eighteen yards and three-eighths of twenty-four inch stuff. The -double-breasted polonaise and pointed basque were particularly -attractive. Behind, she carried a bouffant bow, and feather-trimming -tastefully draped below the waistband. - -One point to which I would draw the attention of all ladies, was the -deep box-plaiting round the collar. The redingote, which she cast aside -shortly after taking her seat, was a plain sacque, shirred around the -neck and shoulders, giving the effect of a circular yoke and Spanish -flounce. - -The general appearance was that of a graceful and elegant combination -of twenty-four inch goods, suitable for boating, yachting, bathing, -archery, the seaside, the drawing-room, the tropic of Capricorn, the -ballroom, the dining-room, for both hemispheres, and for all seasons. -Her boots were high-heeled number sixes. I had a good view of these, -because she put them up on the seat by my side. Her gloves were number -five brown silks. - -The only indication of savage restlessness which she exhibited at -being cooped up and jolted was now and then to eject saliva. This -she did with a neatness and precision which would excite the envy of -a professional. Some people splash or slobber, others guffaw as an -introductory accompaniment to their performance. - -Behaviour like this is intolerable, and it ought to be suppressed. My -Maori friend, who found spitting a necessity, expectorated with grace. -First she puckered up her lips to a pretty point, as if about to take -the soprano at a whistling show. Then placing the tip of her tongue in -juxtaposition with her teeth, she gave a sudden gentle, but decided -contraction of her facial muscles. The only sound was a gentle click. -From the initials S. M. upon her trunk, her name may have been Susan -Macintosh. Susan could spit with grace. The sparkling thin spheroid, -as it pursued its paraboloidal course, glittered in the sunlight with -a meteoric brilliancy. But for Susan’s performance I should have felt -dull and miserable. - -Outside I could hear that Mac and Red Beard were becoming quite -chummy, obtaining information from each other and the driver. This -conversation, and an occasional ‘Git ep,’ addressed to the horses, was -all that I could hear. - -After about twenty-five miles Susan, who had been watching my attempts -to write, asked me what I was noting. I felt that I was suspected of -describing objects belonging to my companion. I replied: - -‘I’m writing, madam, on the trajectory of a fluid projectile passing -rapidly through a yielding but non-viscous medium.’ - -Madam glared, gave another spit, and wiping her mouth with the back of -her hand, said: - -‘Do you mind showing me your book, young man?’ - -My writing was never good, and the jolting of the coach had made it -worse, so I passed it to my companion. She looked at it a moment, then -remarked that the road was very rough, and handed it back. - -This is the only time that I ever felt thankful for having cultivated -an illegible hand. Had it not been illegible, Susan might have -slaughtered me. - -Shortly after this, at the driver’s request, I sat on the same seat -with Susan, who, keeping her feet on the opposite seat, propped her -back against me and fell asleep. I now recognised why Red Beard sat -outside. When she awoke I offered her a cigarette. She replied with -a look. The reference to the customs of her uncivilized sisters had -evidently given offence, and she did not speak again. - -The distance to Cambridge was fifty-five miles, and it cost thirty -shillings a head each way. - -Maoris are very susceptible to insult. In speaking to them you must be -particular. To a common man you may call a pig a pig; to a swell you -ought to say a porcine animal; but to a duke you can only refer to a -pachydermatous quadruped, or one of the Suidæ. This joke is very old. - -At Cambridge we again put up at Kirkwood’s Cottage. On the opposite -side of the road there is Kirkwood’s Hotel. During the evening we -picked up a little information about the Good Templars and Blue -Ribbonites. Sometimes they are elected on a licensing committee, when -they at once proceed to refuse all licences, even to houses which the -police report as being well kept. - -At some of the New Zealand hotels the landlords are compelled to be -very strict. If they hold a licence for liquors to be drunk at the bar, -even if you are a guest at the house, you may have to leave your dinner -and go to the bar to obtain a drink, at least that is what we were -told. - -We returned to Auckland viâ the Thames Gold Fields. First, we went by -train to Hamilton, where there is a very small town and two or three -hotels. From here we crossed an exceedingly flat country in the train -to Morrinsville, where the only buildings are the sheds at the station -and two hotels. I suppose the landlords take turn about at each other’s -houses. - -A twelve-mile drive in a coach brought us to Te Aroa, where there are -one or two hot springs, and at a place three miles distant some gold -mines. Te Aroa is a straggling street situated at the foot of a steep -range of hills parallel to which is the River Thames. Twice a week -there is a steamer on the river down to a town called Thames. We went -in the coach. Distance, thirty-five miles; price, 9s. - -For the first six miles our road was along the foot of the hills -overlooking Te Aroa. The open plain of the Thames, brown with Ti-trees, -was on our right. After this came a pass through the mountains. The -most noticeable tree was the tree-fern. Some of these were of immense -size, and they waved their fronds like the plumes of a gigantic hearse. - -The driver pointed out a kauri-tree to us. This is the tree which -yields gum. Much gum is, however, found buried in marshes where -kauri-trees once flourished. The natives search for it with pronged -forks, much in the same way that fishermen catch eels. - -When descending the other side of the hill, I saw what I took to be a -field filled with troughs at which to feed cattle or sheep. It turned -out to be a bee farm, and what I saw were the hives. - -Near the Thames I noticed what I thought was a second bee farm. This -turned out to be a cemetery. - -Beyond the hills we passed the village of Piroa, and entered a flat, -swampy country. The roads were fearfully muddy and irregular. At one -time the coach was running on two wheels, and the next moment we were -out on the road helping it out of a clay-pit. - -The Thames is a large place with better hotels than Auckland. The -people here appear to be chiefly Irish. We spent a day at the Thames, -walking round the gold mines. At one end of the town the gold which -occurs in quartz reefs is only near the surface, while at the other end -it is deep. The gold is alloyed with silver, and is pale in colour and -very poor. Some of it is only worth £2 17s. per ounce, while gold in -other districts has fetched £4 5s. per ounce. The method of extraction -is by mercury plates and blankets. - -At one mine we were shown some heavy pumping machinery. We had often -heard of this machinery before reaching the Thames. By-and-by it will -be sent to a museum. - -Great excitement prevailed in this part of the world about some -new furnaces which were being put up to extract gold and silver by -smelting. They had been used very successfully in Victoria and New -South Wales. - -From the Thames we returned to Auckland in a dirty little steamer -called the _Enterprise_. There were two notices in the saloon. One was -for passengers to take off their boots before lying on the cushions. -The cushions were strips of dirty carpet. The second was, that smoking -was strictly prohibited. - -The steward enforced the first regulation, but he and the captain -disregarded the second notice by smoking and expectorating all over the -cabin. - - - - -_A SYSTEMATIC GUIDE-BOOK._ - - -When I was in New Zealand I commenced to write a guide-book for the -country. My objects were manifold. I wished to increase the traveller’s -pleasure by pointing out to him the sights best worth visiting. I -was desirous of placing in the hands of those who had visited this -Wonderland the means of reviving their impressions. I wanted to give -to those who live in distant countries, and are not blessed with the -ways and means of journeying to New Zealand, an accurate and faithful -account of all its marvels. In short, I wanted to benefit mankind. I -did not want to sell thousands of editions of my work. I did not want -to induce people to go by steamers or stay at hotels in which I had an -interest. All that I wanted was to be purely and ideally philanthropic. - -I regret to say that my noble intentions have been frustrated. Others -have been before me in the field, and authors have already launched -upon the traveller’s world many a _vade mecum_ to New Zealand. I -have read these books with the greatest interest, and their accurate -and vivid descriptions have made an indelible impression on my mind. -The phraseology of these works, among which ‘Maori-land’ stands -pre-eminent, have entered so deeply into my soul, that I feel I shall -in future be continually in danger of jeopardizing my reputation by -plagiaristic quotations. - -If therefore, in the following brief samples of what my guide-book -would have been, quotations from ‘Maori-land’ and other books are -recognised, I trust that the authors of these monuments of literary art -will grant me their forgiveness. - -All that I can claim for my notes is that they are a _faithful_ and -_systematic_ description of my impressions. The charge of overcolouring -the pictures I have endeavoured to present has been studiously avoided. -Ethereal nothingness has been carefully suppressed. The only fault -of which critics can accuse me, is that I have unavoidably presented -pictures in tints which are too subdued. I have endeavoured to curb -imagination, and to describe things as they really are; and in this I -feel that I have admirably succeeded. - -To be systematic, I have constructed my book on a plan--the -descriptions are numbered, and they run in the following order: - -1. All that it is impossible to describe by the medium of words. - -2. All that strikes the stranger dumb with admiration. - -3. All that exceeds the wildest flights of Eastern imagination, and -holds the wanderer spell-bound with enchantment. - -4. All natural creations which can never be obliterated from the -feeblest memory. - -5. All that you can only sigh and gush about. - -6. Tableau and revelations of beauty. - - - - -_THE JOURNEY TO NEW ZEALAND._ - - -1. By the medium of mere words it is impossible to convey an adequate -idea of the grandeur--the surprising loveliness we may say--of the -elegant and palatial-like appearance of the steamers which carry the -wanderer to New Zealand. - -(New Zealand being an island surrounded by water, it is necessary to -approach it by boat or balloon. I went in a boat.) - -2. When a stranger stands for the first time before a New Zealand -steamer, and views the magnificence and completeness of the -arrangements, he is struck dumb with admiration. - -(These steamers are managed entirely for the benefit of the public, -and not as a source of revenue. The round trip costs £21, wines not -included.) - -3. The lawn-like evenness of the ocean, the incomprehensibility of the -surrounding space, and the changing constellations in the heavens, -surpass the wildest flights of Eastern imagination. - -(Prussic acid is not a good cure for sea-sickness. It is poison.) - -The elegance of the cabins, which by day are princely parlours, and -by night gorgeously furnished couches for repose, hold you spell-bound -with enchantment. - -(We think it is well to undress when you go to bed. Some travellers -sleep in their boots.) - -4. The prodigality in the equipment, the skill in construction, the -perfection of management, are creations of gigantic intellects which -can never be obliterated from the feeblest mind. - -(Never tell the captain that he is going the wrong way, or the engineer -that there is a rat in the cylinder.) - -5. Oh! electric luminosity! Oh! soft and downy couches! Oh! Lucullian -food, what are ye to the lamps, and beds, and dinners on board vessels -going to New Zealand? - -(Bar closes at 10, and lights are put out at 10.30 sharp.) You struggle -over tables in the dark, and end by reaching the wrong cabin. A cry of -_thieves_ awakens the whole ship, and you make a public apology to a -lot of people dressed in long white clothes. - -6. Tableau: what revelations of beauty! - - - - -_COACHING IN NEW ZEALAND._ - - -1. By the medium of mere words it is impossible to convey an adequate -idea of the grandeur--the surprising loveliness we may say--of a New -Zealand coach. (Children free.) - -2. When a stranger stands for the first time before a New Zealand -coach, and views the mechanism of its marvellously constructed wheels, -he is struck dumb with admiration. - -(From the movement I once experienced in one, I had the vehicle stopped -and got out to see if the wheels were square.) - -3. As you roll along in these palaces on wheels, the prodigality of -unalloyed pleasure which the traveller experiences surpasses the -wildest flights of Eastern imagination. - -(I recommend the traveller to take one or two good-sized feather-beds -along. They may save the expense of a doctor’s account.) - -The vast museum of natural wonders and marvellous panoramic effects -which pass before the traveller’s eyes, hold him spell-bound with -enchantment. - -(If you should tumble out of the vehicle the panoramic effects that -will cross your eyes for the next fortnight are truly marvellous.) - -4. The gigantic insects which cross your path, the cataracts descending -from the clouds, the marvellous sensational and grand effects -challenging the attention of the two hemispheres, are natural creations -never to be obliterated from the feeblest memory. - -(When it rains, the cataracts which come through the roof, or in at the -sides of the vehicle, are quite appalling.) - -5. Oh! velvet roads! Oh! luxuries undreamt of! Oh! marvels of creation! -What are ye to a trip in a square-wheeled coach? - -In the evening you apply _arnica_ to your bruises, which gives to your -body an appearance not unlike that of a leopard. - -6. Tableau: what revelations of beauty! - - - - -_THE HOT LAKES._ - - -1. By the medium of mere words it is impossible to convey an adequate -idea of the grandeur--the supreme loveliness we may say--of the -enchanting and ravishing beauty of the Hot Lakes of the Northern -Island. (You can cook potatoes in them.) - -2. When a stranger stands for the first time before the White Terrace -he is struck dumb in admiration. - -3. The wonderful lithic incrustation before him surpasses the wildest -flight of Eastern imagination. - -The delicate tracery and champfered fretwork of the stony drapery hold -him spell-bound with enchantment. - -He sees before him foaming cascades that have been mesmerized into -marble. The tiers of snow-white basins, like steps of alabaster or -Parian stone, are creations of nature never to be obliterated from -the feeblest mind. (A friend suggests that they may be partially -obliterated by a whisky cocktail.) - -4. Each basin with its limpid contents, more delicate and iridescent -than the shades of opal, appeals to the senses as a petrologic poem. As -a background you have the battlements of a craggy mountain, looming up -with awe-inspiring majesty, also reminding one of natural creations -which can never be obliterated from the feeblest mind. What revelations -of beauty! N.B. If so disposed, the visitors may take a bath in the -cerulean depths of Te Terata. (Before doing so, we privately advise him -to make his will, for he will be boiled ‘as sure as eggs is eggs.’) - -5. Oh! pinky white terraces where you lay in marble bows, ‘which are -described as sensuous heavens.’ Oh! polished walls of alabaster and -powdered silica, like the finest silver sand. In a glade, Nature has -supplied a dressing-room sheltered from the luminosity of the heavenly -orb. - -(I undressed in a small clearing amongst almost leafless shrubs. It was -wet and dirty underfoot, and open to the wind in all directions. It was -even open to the gaze of our guide Sophia. The alabaster wall of the -bath took so much skin off one of my knees, that for the next fortnight -I had to pay my devotions standing.) - -(When we had finished, Sophia had a bath.) - - - - -_THE COLD LAKES._ - - -1. By the medium of mere words it is impossible to convey an adequate -idea of the grandeur--the surpassing loveliness we may say--of the -enchanting and ravishing beauty of the Cold Lakes of the Southern -Island. (Don’t bathe unless you can swim.) - -2. When a stranger stands for the first time in the land of the -mountain and flood--the home of the ice-king--all of which are within -easy reach of the Cold Lakes, he is struck dumb with admiration. - -3. The barren desolate grandeur of the haggard jagged pinnacles, which -fringe the shore of the Cold Lakes, surpass the wildest flights of the -Eastern imagination. - -The everlasting snows, the culminating peaks, the primeval forests, -hold him spell-bound with enchantment. - -4. Lakes of enormous depth, and pinnacles of enormous height, are -creations of Nature, the memory of which will never be obliterated from -the feeblest mind. - -5. Oh! crashing thunder, which reverberates from crag to crag. Oh! -avalanches that hurtle in the air! Oh! light of laughing flowers; -what are you to the Cold Lakes of New Zealand? (A small avalanche -costs 2s. 6d. A large one 5s. The visitor ought to secure an example -of this remarkable _lusus naturæ_. They make an effective addition to -an ordinary rockery.) A township that has been squashed flat by an -avalanche has a peculiar appearance. - -Tableau: What revelations of beauty! - - - - -_SUNRISES AND SUNSETS._ - - -1. By the medium of mere words, it is impossible to convey an adequate -idea of the grandeur--the surprising loveliness we may say--of the -enchanting and ravishing beauty of the sunsets in New Zealand. - -(Good lodgings at the neighbouring hotel for 20s. a night. Try dry -curaçoa.) - -2. When a stranger stands for the first time before a New Zealand -sunset, and views Nature in her wildest moods for colouring, he is -struck dumb with admiration. - -(The application of a pin will often relieve the trouble.) - -3. The waning light, the deepening shadows, the varieties of crimson, -opal, and sapphire, surpass the wildest flights of Eastern imagination. - -(The rising moon, held up by Nature’s fingers, in the departing glories -of a setting sun, holds him spell-bound with enchantment.) - -4. Glittering like serpents with golden scales, the scarlet canopy -above, the waving flames of clouds, mottled like drifting fleecy wings -of angels, are natural creations never to be obliterated from the -feeblest memory. - -5. Oh! molten rubies. Oh! golden veils and red flamingoes; what are ye -to the sunsets of New Zealand? - -(I have not referred to sunrises, being always asleep at that time of -night.) - -6. Tableau: What revelations of beauty! - - - - -_THE GENERAL ASPECT OF NATURE IN NEW ZEALAND._ - - -1. By the medium of mere words, it is impossible to convey an adequate -idea of the grandeur--the supreme loveliness we may say--of the -enchanting and ravishing beauty of the general aspect of nature in New -Zealand. - -2. When a stranger stands for the first time before the general aspect -of nature in New Zealand to interview its fairy nooks, filled with -umbrageous ferns, he is petrified with admiration. - -(Don’t stand too long, or you may get your feet damp.) - -3. The green glory of the mountain’s bosky brow, the streamlets -gleaming like diamonds, surpass the wildest flights of the Eastern -imagination. - -(If it rains put up your umbrella.) - -The silver sheen of waterfalls, the merry laugh of bubbling brooks, -hold the traveller spell-bound with enchantment. - -(If you linger too long, the guide may become impatient; an extra -shilling will cure the complaint.) - -4. The palaces of nature--lakes clasping islets in their arms and -wasting themselves away in kissing pebbly shores--are natural -creations never to be obliterated from the feeblest mind. - -5. Oh! drops of sparkling diamonds. Oh! awe-inspiring magnitudes of -Alpine greatness. Oh! unsullied crowns of snow, stupendous cliffs, and -gossamer-like films of poetic mist; what are ye to the general aspect -of nature in New Zealand? - -(The round trip will cost you about £50. The best place at which to buy -your bowie-knife and general outfit will be found by reference to the -newspaper. 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