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| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-05-22 06:21:06 -0700 |
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| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-05-22 06:21:06 -0700 |
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diff --git a/old/orig2895-h/p3.htm b/old/orig2895-h/p3.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 89495b1..0000000 --- a/old/orig2895-h/p3.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2817 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> -<html> -<head> -<title>FOLLOWING THE EQUATOR, Part 3</title> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> - - - -<style type="text/css"> - <!-- - body {background:#faebd7; margin:10%; text-align:justify} - P { text-indent: 1em; - margin-top: .75em; - margin-bottom: .75em; } - H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } - HR { width: 33%; text-align: center; } - blockquote {font-size: 97% } - .figleft {float: left;} - .figright {float: right;} - .toc { margin-left: 15%; margin-bottom: 0em;} - CENTER { padding: 10px;} - --> -</style> - - - -</head> -<body> - - - -<center> -<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> -<tr><td> - <a href="p2.htm">Previous Part</a> -</td><td> - <a href="2895-h.htm">Main Index</a> -</td><td> - <a href="p4.htm">Next Part</a> - -</td></tr> -</table> -</center> - -<br><br><br><br> -<center> - - - <h1>FOLLOWING</h1> - <h1>THE EQUATOR</h1> - <br><br><br> - <h3>Part 3.</h3> - <br><br><br> - <h2>A JOURNEY AROUND THE WORLD</h2> - <h2>BY</h2> - <h2>MARK TWAIN</h2> - <br><br><br> - <h3>SAMUEL L. CLEMENS</h3> - <h3>HARTFORD, CONNECTICUT</h3> - - -</center> - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="bookcover.jpg (131K)" src="images/bookcover.jpg" height="918" width="650"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<center><img alt="bookspine.jpg (70K)" src="images/bookspine.jpg" height="918" width="265"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<center><img alt="booktitle.jpg (53K)" src="images/booktitle.jpg" height="1051" width="619"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<center><img alt="bookfront.jpg (50K)" src="images/bookfront.jpg" height="978" width="650"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<center><img alt="bookdedicate.jpg (13K)" src="images/bookdedicate.jpg" height="329" width="575"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<center><img alt="bookmaxim.jpg (16K)" src="images/bookmaxim.jpg" height="367" width="627"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - - - - <center><h2>CONTENTS OF PART 3.</h2></center> - - -<blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote> -<h3><a href="#ch20">CHAPTER XX.</a></h3> -<p> -A Caller—A Talk about Old Times—The Fox Hunt—An Accurate Judgment of -an Idiot—How We Passed the Custom Officers in Italy - -<br><br><br> -<h3><a href="#ch21">CHAPTER XXI</a>.</h3> -<p> -The "Weet-Weet"—Keeping down the Population—Victoria—Killing the -Aboriginals—Pioneer Days in Queensland—Material for a Drama—The -Bush—Pudding with Arsenic—Revenge—A Right Spirit but a Wrong Method—Death of -Donga Billy - -<br><br><br> -<h3><a href="#ch22">CHAPTER XXII.</a></h3> -<p> -Continued Description of Aboriginals—Manly Qualities—Dodging -Balls—Feats of Spring—Jumping—Where the Kangaroo Learned its Art—Well -Digging—Endurance—Surgery—Artistic Abilities—Fennimore Cooper's Last -Chance—Australian Slang - -<br><br><br> -<h3><a href="#ch23">CHAPTER XXIII.</a></h3> -<p> -To Horsham (Colony of Victoria)—Description of Horsham—At the -Hotel—Pepper Tree-The Agricultural College, Forty Pupils—High -Temperature—Width of Road in Chains, Perches, etc.—The Bird with a Forgettable -Name—The Magpie and the Lady—Fruit Trees—Soils—Sheep Shearing—To -Stawell—Gold Mining Country—$75,000 per Month Income and able to Keep -House—Fine Grapes and Wine—The Dryest Community on Earth—The Three -Sisters—Gum Trees and Water - -<br><br><br> -<h3><a href="#ch24">CHAPTER XXIV.</a></h3> -<p> -Road to Ballarat—The City—Great Gold Strike, 1851—Rush for -Australia—"Great Nuggets"—Taxation—Revolt and Victory—Peter Lalor and the -Eureka Stockade—"Pencil Mark"—Fine Statuary at -Ballarat—Population—Ballarat English - -<br><br><br> -<h3><a href="#ch25">CHAPTER XXV.</a></h3> -<p> -Bound for Bendigo—The Priest at Castlemaine—Time Saved by -Walking—Description of Bendigo—A Valuable Nugget—Perseverence and -Success—Mr. Blank and His Influence—Conveyance of an Idea—I Had to Like the -Irishman—Corrigan Castle, and the Mark Twain Club—My Bascom Mystery -Solved - -<br><br><br> -<h3><a href="#ch26">CHAPTER XXVI.</a></h3> -<p> -Where New Zealand Is—But Few Know—Things People Think They Know—The -Yale Professor and His Visitor from N. Z. - -<br><br><br> -<h3><a href="#ch27">CHAPTER XXVII.</a></h3> -<p> -The South Pole Swell—Tasmania—Extermination of the Natives—The Picture -Proclamation—The Conciliator—The Formidable Sixteen - -<br><br><br> -<h3><a href="#ch28">CHAPTER XXVIII.</a></h3> -<p> -When the Moment Comes the Man Appears—Why Ed. Jackson called on -Commodore Vanderbilt—Their Interview—Welcome to the Child of His -Friend—A Big Time but under Inspection—Sent on Important Business—A Visit to -the Boys on the Boat - -<br><br><br> -<h3><a href="#ch29">CHAPTER XXIX.</a></h3> -<p> -Tasmania, Early Days—Description of the Town of Hobart—An Englishman's -Love of Home Surroundings—Neatest City on Earth—The Museum—A Parrot -with an Acquired Taste—Glass Arrow Beads—Refuge for the Indigent too -healthy - -</blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote> - -<br><hr><br> -<br><br><br> -<br> -<br><br> -<h2><a name="ch20"></a><br><br>CHAPTER XX.</h2> - -<p><i>It is by the goodness of God that in our country we have those three -unspeakably precious things: freedom of speech, freedom of conscience, -and the prudence never to practice either of them.</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>From diary: - -<p>Mr. G. called. I had not seen him since Nauheim, Germany—several years -ago; the time that the cholera broke out at Hamburg. We talked of the -people we had known there, or had casually met; and G. said: - -<p>"Do you remember my introducing you to an earl—the Earl of C.?" - -<p>"Yes. That was the last time I saw you. You and he were in a carriage, -just starting—belated—for the train. I remember it." - -<p>"I remember it too, because of a thing which happened then which I was -not looking for. He had told me a while before, about a remarkable and -interesting Californian whom he had met and who was a friend of yours, -and said that if he should ever meet you he would ask you for some -particulars about that Californian. The subject was not mentioned that -day at Nauheim, for we were hurrying away, and there was no time; but the -thing that surprised me was this: when I introduced you, you said, 'I am -glad to meet your lordship again.' The 'again' was the surprise. He is -a little hard of hearing, and didn't catch that word, and I thought you -hadn't intended that he should. As we drove off I had only time to say, -'Why, what do you know about him?' and I understood you to say, 'Oh, -nothing, except that he is the quickest judge of——' Then we were gone, -and I didn't get the rest. I wondered what it was that he was such a -quick judge of. I have thought of it many times since, and still -wondered what it could be. He and I talked it over, but could not guess -it out. He thought it must be fox-hounds or horses, for he is a good -judge of those—no one is a better. But you couldn't know that, because -you didn't know him; you had mistaken him for some one else; it must be -that, he said, because he knew you had never met him before. And of -course you hadn't had you?" - -<p>"Yes, I had." - -<p>"Is that so? Where?" - -<p>"At a fox-hunt, in England." - -<p>"How curious that is. Why, he hadn't the least recollection of it. Had -you any conversation with him?" - -<p>"Some—yes." - -<p>"Well, it left not the least impression upon him. What did you talk -about?" - -<p>"About the fox. I think that was all." - -<p>"Why, that would interest him; that ought to have left an impression. -What did he talk about?" - -<p>"The fox." - -<p>"It's very curious. I don't understand it. Did what he said leave an -impression upon you?" - -<p>"Yes. It showed me that he was a quick judge of—however, I will tell -you all about it, then you will understand. It was a quarter of a -century ago 1873 or '74. I had an American friend in London named F., -who was fond of hunting, and his friends the Blanks invited him and me to -come out to a hunt and be their guests at their country place. In the -morning the mounts were provided, but when I saw the horses I changed my -mind and asked permission to walk. I had never seen an English hunter -before, and it seemed to me that I could hunt a fox safer on the ground. -I had always been diffident about horses, anyway, even those of the -common altitudes, and I did not feel competent to hunt on a horse that -went on stilts. So then Mrs. Blank came to my help and said I could go -with her in the dog-cart and we would drive to a place she knew of, and -there we should have a good glimpse of the hunt as it went by. - -<p>"When we got to that place I got out and went and leaned my elbows on a -low stone wall which enclosed a turfy and beautiful great field with -heavy wood on all its sides except ours. Mrs. Blank sat in the dog-cart -fifty yards away, which was as near as she could get with the vehicle. -I was full of interest, for I had never seen a fox-hunt. I waited, -dreaming and imagining, in the deep stillness and impressive tranquility -which reigned in that retired spot. Presently, from away off in the -forest on the left, a mellow bugle-note came floating; then all of a -sudden a multitude of dogs burst out of that forest and went tearing by -and disappeared in the forest on the right; there was a pause, and then -a cloud of horsemen in black caps and crimson coats plunged out of the -left-hand forest and went flaming across the field like a prairie-fire, -a stirring sight to see. There was one man ahead of the rest, and he -came spurring straight at me. He was fiercely excited. It was fine to -see him ride; he was a master horseman. He came like a storm till he -was within seven feet of me, where I was leaning on the wall, then he -stood his horse straight up in the air on his hind toe-nails, and shouted -like a demon: - -<p>"'Which way'd the fox go?' - -<p>"I didn't much like the tone, but I did not let on; for he was excited, -you know. But I was calm; so I said softly, and without acrimony: - -<p>"'Which fox?' - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p198.jpg (51K)" src="images/p198.jpg" height="505" width="650"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>"It seemed to anger him. I don't know why; and he thundered out: - -<p>"'WHICH fox? Why, THE fox? Which way did the FOX go?' - -<p>"I said, with great gentleness—even argumentatively: - -<p>"'If you could be a little more definite—a little less vague—because I -am a stranger, and there are many foxes, as you will know even better -than I, and unless I know which one it is that you desire to identify, -and——' - -<p>"'You're certainly the damdest idiot that has escaped in a thousand -years!' and he snatched his great horse around as easily as I would -snatch a cat, and was away like a hurricane. A very excitable man. - -<p>"I went back to Mrs. Blank, and she was excited, too—oh, all alive. She -said: - -<p>"'He spoke to you!—didn't he?' - -<p>"'Yes, it is what happened.' - -<p>"'I knew it! I couldn't hear what he said, but I knew he spoke to you! Do -you know who it was? It was Lord C., and he is Master of the Buckhounds! -Tell me—what do you think of him?' - -<p>"'Him? Well, for sizing-up a stranger, he's got the most sudden and -accurate judgment of any man I ever saw.' - -<p>"It pleased her. I thought it would." - -<p>G. got away from Nauheim just in time to escape being shut in by the -quarantine-bars on the frontiers; and so did we, for we left the next -day. But G. had a great deal of trouble in getting by the Italian -custom-house, and we should have fared likewise but for the -thoughtfulness of our consul-general in Frankfort. He introduced me to -the Italian consul-general, and I brought away from that consulate a -letter which made our way smooth. It was a dozen lines merely commending -me in a general way to the courtesies of servants in his Italian -Majesty's service, but it was more powerful than it looked. In addition -to a raft of ordinary baggage, we had six or eight trunks which were -filled exclusively with dutiable stuff—household goods purchased in -Frankfort for use in Florence, where we had taken a house. I was going -to ship these through by express; but at the last moment an order went -throughout Germany forbidding the moving of any parcels by train unless -the owner went with them. This was a bad outlook. We must take these -things along, and the delay sure to be caused by the examination of them -in the custom-house might lose us our train. I imagined all sorts of -terrors, and enlarged them steadily as we approached the Italian -frontier. We were six in number, clogged with all that baggage, and I -was courier for the party—the most incapable one they ever employed. - -<p>We arrived, and pressed with the crowd into the immense custom-house, and -the usual worries began; everybody crowding to the counter and begging to -have his baggage examined first, and all hands clattering and chattering -at once. It seemed to me that I could do nothing; it would be better to -give it all up and go away and leave the baggage. I couldn't speak the -language; I should never accomplish anything. Just then a tall handsome -man in a fine uniform was passing by and I knew he must be the -station-master—and that reminded me of my letter. I ran to him and put it into -his hands. He took it out of the envelope, and the moment his eye caught -the royal coat of arms printed at its top, he took off his cap and made a -beautiful bow to me, and said in English: - -<p>"Which is your baggage? Please show it to me." - -<p>I showed him the mountain. Nobody was disturbing it; nobody was -interested in it; all the family's attempts to get attention to it had -failed—except in the case of one of the trunks containing the dutiable -goods. It was just being opened. My officer said: - -<p>"There, let that alone! Lock it. Now chalk it. Chalk all of the lot. -Now please come and show me the hand-baggage." - -<p>He plowed through the waiting crowd, I following, to the counter, and he -gave orders again, in his emphatic military way: - -<p>"Chalk these. Chalk all of them." - -<p>Then he took off his cap and made that beautiful bow again, and went his -way. By this time these attentions had attracted the wonder of that acre -of passengers, and the whisper had gone around that the royal family were -present getting their baggage chalked; and as we passed down in review on -our way to the door, I was conscious of a pervading atmosphere of envy -which gave me deep satisfaction. - -<p>But soon there was an accident. My overcoat pockets were stuffed with -German cigars and linen packages of American smoking tobacco, and a -porter was following us around with this overcoat on his arm, and -gradually getting it upside down. Just as I, in the rear of my family, -moved by the sentinels at the door, about three hatfuls of the tobacco -tumbled out on the floor. One of the soldiers pounced upon it, gathered -it up in his arms, pointed back whence I had come, and marched me ahead -of him past that long wall of passengers again—he chattering and -exulting like a devil, they smiling in peaceful joy, and I trying to look -as if my pride was not hurt, and as if I did not mind being brought to -shame before these pleased people who had so lately envied me. But at -heart I was cruelly humbled. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p203.jpg (54K)" src="images/p203.jpg" height="421" width="650"> -</center> -<a href="images/p203.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Full Size" src="images/enlarge.jpg"></a> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>When I had been marched two-thirds of the long distance and the misery of -it was at the worst, the stately station-master stepped out from -somewhere, and the soldier left me and darted after him and overtook him; -and I could see by the soldier's excited gestures that he was betraying -to him the whole shabby business. The station-master was plainly very -angry. He came striding down toward me, and when he was come near he -began to pour out a stream of indignant Italian; then suddenly took off -his hat and made that beautiful bow and said: - -<p>"Oh, it is you! I beg a thousands pardons! This idiot here—-" He turned -to the exulting soldier and burst out with a flood of white-hot Italian -lava, and the next moment he was bowing, and the soldier and I were -moving in procession again—he in the lead and ashamed, this time, I with -my chin up. And so we marched by the crowd of fascinated passengers, and -I went forth to the train with the honors of war. Tobacco and all. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p205.jpg (17K)" src="images/p205.jpg" height="331" width="573"> -</center> - - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch21"></a><br><br>CHAPTER XXI.</h2> - -<p><i>Man will do many things to get himself loved, he will do all things to -get himself envied.</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>Before I saw Australia I had never heard of the "weet-weet" at all. -I met but few men who had seen it thrown—at least I met but few who -mentioned having seen it thrown. Roughly described, it is a fat wooden -cigar with its butt-end fastened to a flexible twig. The whole thing is -only a couple of feet long, and weighs less than two ounces. This -feather—so to call it—is not thrown through the air, but is flung with -an underhanded throw and made to strike the ground a little way in front -of the thrower; then it glances and makes a long skip; glances again, -skips again, and again and again, like the flat stone which a boy sends -skating over the water. The water is smooth, and the stone has a good -chance; so a strong man may make it travel fifty or seventy-five yards; -but the weet-weet has no such good chance, for it strikes sand, grass, -and earth in its course. Yet an expert aboriginal has sent it a measured -distance of two hundred and twenty yards. It would have gone even -further but it encountered rank ferns and underwood on its passage and -they damaged its speed. Two hundred and twenty yards; and so weightless -a toy—a mouse on the end of a bit of wire, in effect; and not sailing -through the accommodating air, but encountering grass and sand and stuff -at every jump. It looks wholly impossible; but Mr. Brough Smyth saw the -feat and did the measuring, and set down the facts in his book about -aboriginal life, which he wrote by command of the Victorian Government. - -<p>What is the secret of the feat? No one explains. It cannot be physical -strength, for that could not drive such a feather-weight any distance. -It must be art. But no one explains what the art of it is; nor how it -gets around that law of nature which says you shall not throw any -two-ounce thing 220 yards, either through the air or bumping along the -ground. Rev. J. G. Woods says: - -<p>"The distance to which the weet-weet or kangaroo-rat can be thrown is -truly astonishing. I have seen an Australian stand at one side of -Kennington Oval and throw the kangaroo rat completely across it." (Width -of Kennington Oval not stated.) "It darts through the air with the sharp -and menacing hiss of a rifle-ball, its greatest height from the ground -being some seven or eight feet . . . . . . When properly thrown it -looks just like a living animal leaping along . . . . . . Its -movements have a wonderful resemblance to the long leaps of a -kangaroo-rat fleeing in alarm, with its long tail trailing behind it." - -<p>The Old Settler said that he had seen distances made by the weet-weet, in -the early days, which almost convinced him that it was as extraordinary -an instrument as the boomerang. - -<p>There must have been a large distribution of acuteness among those naked -skinny aboriginals, or they couldn't have been such unapproachable -trackers and boomerangers and weet-weeters. It must have been -race-aversion that put upon them a good deal of the low-rate intellectual -reputation which they bear and have borne this long time in the world's -estimate of them. - -<p>They were lazy—always lazy. Perhaps that was their trouble. It is a -killing defect. Surely they could have invented and built a competent -house, but they didn't. And they could have invented and developed the -agricultural arts, but they didn't. They went naked and houseless, and -lived on fish and grubs and worms and wild fruits, and were just plain -savages, for all their smartness. - -<p>With a country as big as the United States to live and multiply in, and -with no epidemic diseases among them till the white man came with those -and his other appliances of civilization, it is quite probable that there -was never a day in his history when he could muster 100,000 of his race -in all Australia. He diligently and deliberately kept population down by -infanticide—largely; but mainly by certain other methods. He did not -need to practise these artificialities any more after the white man came. -The white man knew ways of keeping down population which were worth -several of his. The white man knew ways of reducing a native population -80 percent. in 20 years. The native had never seen anything as fine as -that before. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p208.jpg (42K)" src="images/p208.jpg" height="580" width="624"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>For example, there is the case of the country now called Victoria—a -country eighty times as large as Rhode Island, as I have already said. -By the best official guess there were 4,500 aboriginals in it when the -whites came along in the middle of the 'Thirties. Of these, 1,000 lived -in Gippsland, a patch of territory the size of fifteen or sixteen Rhode -Islands: they did not diminish as fast as some of the other communities; -indeed, at the end of forty years there were still 200 of them left. The -Geelong tribe diminished more satisfactorily: from 173 persons it faded -to 34 in twenty years; at the end of another twenty the tribe numbered -one person altogether. The two Melbourne tribes could muster almost 300 -when the white man came; they could muster but twenty, thirty-seven years -later, in 1875. In that year there were still odds and ends of tribes -scattered about the colony of Victoria, but I was told that natives of -full blood are very scarce now. It is said that the aboriginals continue -in some force in the huge territory called Queensland. - -<p>The early whites were not used to savages. They could not understand the -primary law of savage life: that if a man do you a wrong, his whole tribe -is responsible—each individual of it—and you may take your change out -of any individual of it, without bothering to seek out the guilty one. -When a white killed an aboriginal, the tribe applied the ancient law, and -killed the first white they came across. To the whites this was a -monstrous thing. Extermination seemed to be the proper medicine for such -creatures as this. They did not kill all the blacks, but they promptly -killed enough of them to make their own persons safe. From the dawn of -civilization down to this day the white man has always used that very -precaution. Mrs. Campbell Praed lived in Queensland, as a child, in the -early days, and in her "Sketches of Australian life," we get informing -pictures of the early struggles of the white and the black to reform each -other. - -<p>Speaking of pioneer days in the mighty wilderness of Queensland, Mrs. -Praed says: - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "At first the natives retreated before the whites; and, except that - they every now and then speared a beast in one of the herds, gave - little cause for uneasiness. But, as the number of squatters - increased, each one taking up miles of country and bringing two or - three men in his train, so that shepherds' huts and stockmen's camps - lay far apart, and defenseless in the midst of hostile tribes, the - Blacks' depredations became more frequent and murder was no unusual - event. - -<p> "The loneliness of the Australian bush can hardly be painted in - words. Here extends mile after mile of primeval forest where - perhaps foot of white man has never trod—interminable vistas where - the eucalyptus trees rear their lofty trunks and spread forth their - lanky limbs, from which the red gum oozes and hangs in fantastic - pendants like crimson stalactites; ravines along the sides of which - the long-bladed grass grows rankly; level untimbered plains - alternating with undulating tracts of pasture, here and there broken - by a stony ridge, steep gully, or dried-up creek. All wild, vast - and desolate; all the same monotonous gray coloring, except where - the wattle, when in blossom, shows patches of feathery gold, or a - belt of scrub lies green, glossy, and impenetrable as Indian jungle. - -<p> "The solitude seems intensified by the strange sounds of reptiles, - birds, and insects, and by the absence of larger creatures; of which - in the day-time, the only audible signs are the stampede of a herd - of kangaroo, or the rustle of a wallabi, or a dingo stirring the - grass as it creeps to its lair. But there are the whirring of - locusts, the demoniac chuckle of the laughing jack-ass, the - screeching of cockatoos and parrots, the hissing of the frilled - lizard, and the buzzing of innumerable insects hidden under the - dense undergrowth. And then at night, the melancholy wailing of the - curlews, the dismal howling of dingoes, the discordant croaking of - tree-frogs, might well shake the nerves of the solitary watcher." -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<p>That is the theater for the drama. When you comprehend one or two other -details, you will perceive how well suited for trouble it was, and how -loudly it invited it. The cattlemen's stations were scattered over that -profound wilderness miles and miles apart—at each station half a dozen -persons. There was a plenty of cattle, the black natives were always -ill-nourished and hungry. The land belonged to them. The whites had not -bought it, and couldn't buy it; for the tribes had no chiefs, nobody in -authority, nobody competent to sell and convey; and the tribes themselves -had no comprehension of the idea of transferable ownership of land. The -ousted owners were despised by the white interlopers, and this opinion -was not hidden under a bushel. More promising materials for a tragedy -could not have been collated. Let Mrs. Praed speak: - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "At Nie Nie station, one dark night, the unsuspecting hut-keeper, - having, as he believed, secured himself against assault, was lying - wrapped in his blankets sleeping profoundly. The Blacks crept - stealthily down the chimney and battered in his skull while he - slept." -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<p>One could guess the whole drama from that little text. The curtain was -up. It would not fall until the mastership of one party or the other was -determined—and permanently: - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "There was treachery on both sides. The Blacks killed the Whites - when they found them defenseless, and the Whites slew the Blacks in - a wholesale and promiscuous fashion which offended against my - childish sense of justice. - -<p> "They were regarded as little above the level of brutes, and in some - cases were destroyed like vermin. - -<p> "Here is an instance. A squatter, whose station was surrounded by - Blacks, whom he suspected to be hostile and from whom he feared an - attack, parleyed with them from his house-door. He told them it was - Christmas-time—a time at which all men, black or white, feasted; - that there were flour, sugar-plums, good things in plenty in the - store, and that he would make for them such a pudding as they had - never dreamed of—a great pudding of which all might eat and be - filled. The Blacks listened and were lost. The pudding was made - and distributed. Next morning there was howling in the camp, for it - had been sweetened with sugar and arsenic!" -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p211.jpg (85K)" src="images/p211.jpg" height="1083" width="645"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>The white man's spirit was right, but his method was wrong. His spirit -was the spirit which the civilized white has always exhibited toward the -savage, but the use of poison was a departure from custom. True, it was -merely a technical departure, not a real one; still, it was a departure, -and therefore a mistake, in my opinion. It was better, kinder, swifter, -and much more humane than a number of the methods which have been -sanctified by custom, but that does not justify its employment. That is, -it does not wholly justify it. Its unusual nature makes it stand out and -attract an amount of attention which it is not entitled to. It takes -hold upon morbid imaginations and they work it up into a sort of -exhibition of cruelty, and this smirches the good name of our -civilization, whereas one of the old harsher methods would have had no -such effect because usage has made those methods familiar to us and -innocent. In many countries we have chained the savage and starved him -to death; and this we do not care for, because custom has inured us to -it; yet a quick death by poison is loving kindness to it. In many -countries we have burned the savage at the stake; and this we do not care -for, because custom has inured us to it; yet a quick death is -loving kindness to it. In more than one country we have hunted the savage and -his little children and their mother with dogs and guns through the woods -and swamps for an afternoon's sport, and filled the region with happy -laughter over their sprawling and stumbling flight, and their wild -supplications for mercy; but this method we do not mind, because custom -has inured us to it; yet a quick death by poison is loving kindness to -it. In many countries we have taken the savage's land from him, and made -him our slave, and lashed him every day, and broken his pride, and made -death his only friend, and overworked him till he dropped in his tracks; -and this we do not care for, because custom has inured us to it; yet a -quick death by poison is loving kindness to it. In the Matabeleland -today—why, there we are confining ourselves to sanctified custom, we -Rhodes-Beit millionaires in South Africa and Dukes in London; and nobody -cares, because we are used to the old holy customs, and all we ask is -that no notice—inviting new ones shall be intruded upon the attention of -our comfortable consciences. Mrs. Praed says of the poisoner, "That -squatter deserves to have his name handed down to the contempt of -posterity." - -<p>I am sorry to hear her say that. I myself blame him for one thing, and -severely, but I stop there. I blame him for, the indiscretion of -introducing a novelty which was calculated to attract attention to our -civilization. There was no occasion to do that. It was his duty, and it -is every loyal man's duty to protect that heritage in every way he can; -and the best way to do that is to attract attention elsewhere. The -squatter's judgment was bad—that is plain; but his heart was right. He -is almost the only pioneering representative of civilization in history -who has risen above the prejudices of his caste and his heredity and -tried to introduce the element of mercy into the superior race's dealings -with the savage. His name is lost, and it is a pity; for it deserves to -be handed down to posterity with homage and reverence. - -<p>This paragraph is from a London journal: - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "To learn what France is doing to spread the blessings of - civilization in her distant dependencies we may turn with advantage - to New Caledonia. With a view to attracting free settlers to that - penal colony, M. Feillet, the Governor, forcibly expropriated the - Kanaka cultivators from the best of their plantations, with a - derisory compensation, in spite of the protests of the Council - General of the island. Such immigrants as could be induced to cross - the seas thus found themselves in possession of thousands of coffee, - cocoa, banana, and bread-fruit trees, the raising of which had cost - the wretched natives years of toil whilst the latter had a few - five-franc pieces to spend in the liquor stores of Noumea." -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<p>You observe the combination? It is robbery, humiliation, and slow, slow -murder, through poverty and the white man's whisky. The savage's gentle -friend, the savage's noble friend, the only magnanimous and unselfish -friend the savage has ever had, was not there with the merciful swift -release of his poisoned pudding. - -<p>There are many humorous things in the world; among them the white man's -notion that he is less savage than the other savages.—[See Chapter on -Tasmania, post.] - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch22"></a><br><br>CHAPTER XXII.</h2> - -<p><i>Nothing is so ignorant as a man's left hand, except a lady's watch.</i> - - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>You notice that Mrs. Praed knows her art. She can place a thing before -you so that you can see it. She is not alone in that. Australia is -fertile in writers whose books are faithful mirrors of the life of the -country and of its history. The materials were surprisingly rich, both -in quality and in mass, and Marcus Clarke, Raolph Boldrewood, Gordon, -Kendall, and the others, have built out of them a brilliant and vigorous -literature, and one which must endure. Materials—there is no end to -them! Why, a literature might be made out of the aboriginal all by -himself, his character and ways are so freckled with varieties—varieties -not staled by familiarity, but new to us. You do not need to invent any -picturesquenesses; whatever you want in that line he can furnish you; and -they will not be fancies and doubtful, but realities and authentic. In -his history, as preserved by the white man's official records, he is -everything—everything that a human creature can be. He covers the -entire ground. He is a coward—there are a thousand fact to prove it. -He is brave—there are a thousand facts to prove it. He is -treacherous—oh, beyond imagination! he is faithful, loyal, true—the white man's -records supply you with a harvest of instances of it that are noble, -worshipful, and pathetically beautiful. He kills the starving stranger -who comes begging for food and shelter there is proof of it. He succors, -and feeds, and guides to safety, to-day, the lost stranger who fired on -him only yesterday—there is proof of it. He takes his reluctant bride -by force, he courts her with a club, then loves her faithfully through a -long life—it is of record. He gathers to himself another wife by the -same processes, beats and bangs her as a daily diversion, and by and by -lays down his life in defending her from some outside harm—it is of -record. He will face a hundred hostiles to rescue one of his children, -and will kill another of his children because the family is large enough -without it. His delicate stomach turns, at certain details of the white -man's food; but he likes over-ripe fish, and brazed dog, and cat, and -rat, and will eat his own uncle with relish. He is a sociable animal, -yet he turns aside and hides behind his shield when his mother-in-law -goes by. He is childishly afraid of ghosts and other trivialities that -menace his soul, but dread of physical pain is a weakness which he is not -acquainted with. He knows all the great and many of the little -constellations, and has names for them; he has a symbol-writing by means -of which he can convey messages far and wide among the tribes; he has a -correct eye for form and expression, and draws a good picture; he can -track a fugitive by delicate traces which the white man's eye cannot -discern, and by methods which the finest white intelligence cannot -master; he makes a missile which science itself cannot duplicate without -the model—if with it; a missile whose secret baffled and defeated the -searchings and theorizings of the white mathematicians for seventy years; -and by an art all his own he performs miracles with it which the white -man cannot approach untaught, nor parallel after teaching. Within -certain limits this savage's intellect is the alertest and the brightest -known to history or tradition; and yet the poor creature was never able -to invent a counting system that would reach above five, nor a vessel -that he could boil water in. He is the prize-curiosity of all the races. -To all intents and purposes he is dead—in the body; but he has features -that will live in literature. - -<p>Mr. Philip Chauncy, an officer of the Victorian Government, contributed -to its archives a report of his personal observations of the aboriginals -which has in it some things which I wish to condense slightly and insert -here. He speaks of the quickness of their eyes and the accuracy of their -judgment of the direction of approaching missiles as being quite -extraordinary, and of the answering suppleness and accuracy of limb and -muscle in avoiding the missile as being extraordinary also. He has seen -an aboriginal stand as a target for cricket-balls thrown with great force -ten or fifteen yards, by professional bowlers, and successfully dodge -them or parry them with his shield during about half an hour. One of -those balls, properly placed, could have killed him; "Yet he depended, -with the utmost self-possession, on the quickness of his eye and his -agility." - -<p>The shield was the customary war-shield of his race, and would not be a -protection to you or to me. It is no broader than a stovepipe, and is -about as long as a man's arm. The opposing surface is not flat, but -slopes away from the centerline like a boat's bow. The difficulty about -a cricket-ball that has been thrown with a scientific "twist" is, that it -suddenly changes its course when it is close to its target and comes -straight for the mark when apparently it was going overhead or to one -side. I should not be able to protect myself from such balls for -half-an-hour, or less. - -<p>Mr. Chauncy once saw "a little native man" throw a cricket-ball 119 -yards. This is said to beat the English professional record by thirteen -yards. - -<p>We have all seen the circus-man bound into the air from a spring-board -and make a somersault over eight horses standing side by side. Mr. -Chauncy saw an aboriginal do it over eleven; and was assured that he had -sometimes done it over fourteen. But what is that to this: - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "I saw the same man leap from the ground, and in going over he - dipped his head, unaided by his hands, into a hat placed in an - inverted position on the top of the head of another man sitting - upright on horseback—both man and horse being of the average size. - The native landed on the other side of the horse with the hat fairly - on his head. The prodigious height of the leap, and the precision - with which it was taken so as to enable him to dip his head into the - hat, exceeded any feat of the kind I have ever beheld." -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<p>I should think so! On board a ship lately I saw a young Oxford athlete -run four steps and spring into the air and squirm his hips by a -side-twist over a bar that was five and one-half feet high; but he could not -have stood still and cleared a bar that was four feet high. I know this, -because I tried it myself. - -<p>One can see now where the kangaroo learned its art. - -<p>Sir George Grey and Mr. Eyre testify that the natives dug wells fourteen -or fifteen feet deep and two feet in diameter at the bore—dug them in -the sand—wells that were "quite circular, carried straight down, and the -work beautifully executed." - -<p>Their tools were their hands and feet. How did they throw sand out from -such a depth? How could they stoop down and get it, with only two feet -of space to stoop in? How did they keep that sand-pipe from caving in -on them? I do not know. Still, they did manage those seeming -impossibilities. Swallowed the sand, may be. - -<p>Mr. Chauncy speaks highly of the patience and skill and alert -intelligence of the native huntsman when he is stalking the emu, the -kangaroo, and other game: - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "As he walks through the bush his step is light, elastic, and - noiseless; every track on the earth catches his keen eye; a leaf, or - fragment of a stick turned, or a blade of grass recently bent by the - tread of one of the lower animals, instantly arrests his attention; - in fact, nothing escapes his quick and powerful sight on the ground, - in the trees, or in the distance, which may supply him with a meal - or warn him of danger. A little examination of the trunk of a tree - which may be nearly covered with the scratches of opossums ascending - and descending is sufficient to inform him whether one went up the - night before without coming down again or not." -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p218.jpg (48K)" src="images/p218.jpg" height="629" width="618"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>Fennimore Cooper lost his chance. He would have known how to value these -people. He wouldn't have traded the dullest of them for the brightest -Mohawk he ever invented. - -<p>All savages draw outline pictures upon bark; but the resemblances are not -close, and expression is usually lacking. But the Australian -aboriginal's pictures of animals were nicely accurate in form, attitude, -carriage; and he put spirit into them, and expression. And his pictures -of white people and natives were pretty nearly as good as his pictures of -the other animals. He dressed his whites in the fashion of their day, -both the ladies and the gentlemen. As an untaught wielder of the pencil -it is not likely that he has his equal among savage people. - -<p>His place in art—as to drawing, not color-work—is well up, all things -considered. His art is not to be classified with savage art at all, but -on a plane two degrees above it and one degree above the lowest plane of -civilized art. To be exact, his place in art is between Botticelli and -De Maurier. That is to say, he could not draw as well as De Maurier but -better than Boticelli. In feeling, he resembles both; also in grouping -and in his preferences in the matter of subjects. His "corrobboree" of -the Australian wilds reappears in De Maurier's Belgravian ballrooms, with -clothes and the smirk of civilization added; Botticelli's "Spring" is the -"corrobboree" further idealized, but with fewer clothes and more smirk. -And well enough as to intention, but—my word! - -<p>The aboriginal can make a fire by friction. I have tried that. - -<p>All savages are able to stand a good deal of physical pain. The -Australian aboriginal has this quality in a well-developed degree. Do -not read the following instances if horrors are not pleasant to you. -They were recorded by the Rev. Henry N. Wolloston, of Melbourne, who had -been a surgeon before he became a clergyman: - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> 1. "In the summer of 1852 I started on horseback from Albany, King - George's Sound, to visit at Cape Riche, accompanied by a native on - foot. We traveled about forty miles the first day, then camped by a - water-hole for the night. After cooking and eating our supper, I - observed the native, who had said nothing to me on the subject, - collect the hot embers of the fire together, and deliberately place - his right foot in the glowing mass for a moment, then suddenly - withdraw it, stamping on the ground and uttering a long-drawn - guttural sound of mingled pain and satisfaction. This operation he - repeated several times. On my inquiring the meaning of his strange - conduct, he only said, 'Me carpenter-make 'em' ('I am mending my - foot'), and then showed me his charred great toe, the nail of which - had been torn off by a tea-tree stump, in which it had been caught - during the journey, and the pain of which he had borne with stoical - composure until the evening, when he had an opportunity of - cauterizing the wound in the primitive manner above described." -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<p>And he proceeded on the journey the next day, "as if nothing had -happened"—and walked thirty miles. It was a strange idea, to keep a -surgeon and then do his own surgery. - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> 2. "A native about twenty-five years of age once applied to me, as - a doctor, to extract the wooden barb of a spear, which, during a - fight in the bush some four months previously, had entered his - chest, just missing the heart, and penetrated the viscera to a - considerable depth. The spear had been cut off, leaving the barb - behind, which continued to force its way by muscular action - gradually toward the back; and when I examined him I could feel a - hard substance between the ribs below the left blade-bone. I made a - deep incision, and with a pair of forceps extracted the barb, which - was made, as usual, of hard wood about four inches long and from - half an inch to an inch thick. It was very smooth, and partly - digested, so to speak, by the maceration to which it had been - exposed during its four months' journey through the body. The wound - made by the spear had long since healed, leaving only a small - cicatrix; and after the operation, which the native bore without - flinching, he appeared to suffer no pain. Indeed, judging from his - good state of health, the presence of the foreign matter did not - materially annoy him. He was perfectly well in a few days." -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<p>But No. 3 is my favorite. Whenever I read it I seem to enjoy all that -the patient enjoyed—whatever it was: - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> 3. "Once at King George's Sound a native presented himself to me - with one leg only, and requested me to supply him with a wooden leg. - He had traveled in this maimed state about ninety-six miles, for - this purpose. I examined the limb, which had been severed just - below the knee, and found that it had been charred by fire, while - about two inches of the partially calcined bone protruded through - the flesh. I at once removed this with the saw; and having made as - presentable a stump of it as I could, covered the amputated end of - the bone with a surrounding of muscle, and kept the patient a few - days under my care to allow the wound to heal. On inquiring, the - native told me that in a fight with other black-fellows a spear had - struck his leg and penetrated the bone below the knee. Finding it - was serious, he had recourse to the following crude and barbarous - operation, which it appears is not uncommon among these people in - their native state. He made a fire, and dug a hole in the earth - only sufficiently large to admit his leg, and deep enough to allow - the wounded part to be on a level with the surface of the ground. - He then surrounded the limb with the live coals or charcoal, which - was replenished until the leg was literally burnt off. The - cauterization thus applied completely checked the hemorrhage, and he - was able in a day or two to hobble down to the Sound, with the aid - of a long stout stick, although he was more than a week on the - road." -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p220.jpg (64K)" src="images/p220.jpg" height="859" width="621"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>But he was a fastidious native. He soon discarded the wooden leg made -for him by the doctor, because "it had no feeling in it." It must have -had as much as the one he burnt off, I should think. - -<p>So much for the Aboriginals. It is difficult for me to let them alone. -They are marvelously interesting creatures. For a quarter of a century, -now, the several colonial governments have housed their remnants in -comfortable stations, and fed them well and taken good care of them in -every way. If I had found this out while I was in Australia I could have -seen some of those people—but I didn't. I would walk thirty miles to -see a stuffed one. - -<p>Australia has a slang of its own. This is a matter of course. The vast -cattle and sheep industries, the strange aspects of the country, and the -strange native animals, brute and human, are matters which would -naturally breed a local slang. I have notes of this slang somewhere, but -at the moment I can call to mind only a few of the words and phrases. -They are expressive ones. The wide, sterile, unpeopled deserts have -created eloquent phrases like "No Man's Land" and the "Never-never -Country." Also this felicitous form: "She lives in the Never-never -Country"—that is, she is an old maid. And this one is not without -merit: "heifer-paddock"—young ladies' seminary. "Bail up" and "stick -up" equivalent of our highwayman-term to "hold up" a stage-coach or a -train. "New-chum" is the equivalent of our "tenderfoot"—new arrival. - -<p>And then there is the immortal "My word!" We must import it. "M-y word!" -In cold print it is the equivalent of our "Ger-rreat Caesar!" but spoken -with the proper Australian unction and fervency, it is worth six of it -for grace and charm and expressiveness. Our form is rude and explosive; -it is not suited to the drawing-room or the heifer-paddock; but "M-y -word!" is, and is music to the ear, too, when the utterer knows how to -say it. I saw it in print several times on the Pacific Ocean, but it -struck me coldly, it aroused no sympathy. That was because it was the -dead corpse of the thing, the soul was not there—the tones were -lacking—the informing spirit—the deep feeling—the eloquence. But the -first time I heard an Australian say it, it was positively thrilling. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p222.jpg (13K)" src="images/p222.jpg" height="329" width="489"> -</center> - - - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch23"></a><br><br>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> - -<p><i>Be careless in your dress if you must, but keep a tidy soul.</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>We left Adelaide in due course, and went to Horsham, in the colony of -Victoria; a good deal of a journey, if I remember rightly, but pleasant. -Horsham sits in a plain which is as level as a floor—one of those famous -dead levels which Australian books describe so often; gray, bare, sombre, -melancholy, baked, cracked, in the tedious long drouths, but a -horizonless ocean of vivid green grass the day after a rain. A country -town, peaceful, reposeful, inviting, full of snug homes, with garden -plots, and plenty of shrubbery and flowers. - -<p>"Horsham, October 17. -At the hotel. The weather divine. Across the way, in front of the -London Bank of Australia, is a very handsome cottonwood. It is in -opulent leaf, and every leaf perfect. The full power of the on-rushing -spring is upon it, and I imagine I can see it grow. Alongside the bank -and a little way back in the garden there is a row of soaring -fountain-sprays of delicate feathery foliage quivering in the breeze, and mottled -with flashes of light that shift and play through the mass like -flash-lights through an opal—a most beautiful tree, and a striking contrast to -the cottonwood. Every leaf of the cottonwood is distinctly defined—it -is a kodak for faithful, hard, unsentimental detail; the other an -impressionist picture, delicious to look upon, full of a subtle and -exquisite charm, but all details fused in a swoon of vague and soft -loveliness." - -<p>It turned out, upon inquiry, to be a pepper tree—an importation from -China. It has a silky sheen, soft and rich. I saw some that had long -red bunches of currant-like berries ambushed among the foliage. At a -distance, in certain lights, they give the tree a pinkish tint and a new -charm. - -<p>There is an agricultural college eight miles from Horsham. We were -driven out to it by its chief. The conveyance was an open wagon; the -time, noonday; no wind; the sky without a cloud, the sunshine -brilliant—and the mercury at 92 deg. in the shade. In some countries an indolent -unsheltered drive of an hour and a half under such conditions would have -been a sweltering and prostrating experience; but there was nothing of -that in this case. It is a climate that is perfect. There was no sense -of heat; indeed, there was no heat; the air was fine and pure and -exhilarating; if the drive had lasted half a day I think we should not -have felt any discomfort, or grown silent or droopy or tired. Of course, -the secret of it was the exceeding dryness of the atmosphere. In that -plain 112 deg. in the shade is without doubt no harder upon a man than is -88 or 90 deg. in New York. - -<p>The road lay through the middle of an empty space which seemed to me to -be a hundred yards wide between the fences. I was not given the width in -yards, but only in chains and perches—and furlongs, I think. I would -have given a good deal to know what the width was, but I did not pursue -the matter. I think it is best to put up with information the way you -get it; and seem satisfied with it, and surprised at it, and grateful for -it, and say, "My word!" and never let on. It was a wide space; I could -tell you how wide, in chains and perches and furlongs and things, but -that would not help you any. Those things sound well, but they are -shadowy and indefinite, like troy weight and avoirdupois; nobody knows -what they mean. When you buy a pound of a drug and the man asks you -which you want, troy or avoirdupois, it is best to say "Yes," and shift -the subject. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p224.jpg (9K)" src="images/p224.jpg" height="481" width="260"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>They said that the wide space dates from the earliest sheep and -cattle-raising days. People had to drive their stock long distances—immense -journeys—from worn-out places to new ones where were water and fresh -pasturage; and this wide space had to be left in grass and unfenced, or -the stock would have starved to death in the transit. - -<p>On the way we saw the usual birds—the beautiful little green parrots, -the magpie, and some others; and also the slender native bird of modest -plumage and the eternally-forgettable name—the bird that is the smartest -among birds, and can give a parrot 30 to 1 in the game and then talk him -to death. I cannot recall that bird's name. I think it begins with M. -I wish it began with G. or something that a person can remember. - -<p>The magpie was out in great force, in the fields and on the fences. He -is a handsome large creature, with snowy white decorations, and is a -singer; he has a murmurous rich note that is lovely. He was once modest, -even diffident; but he lost all that when he found out that he was -Australia's sole musical bird. He has talent, and cuteness, and -impudence; and in his tame state he is a most satisfactory pet—never -coming when he is called, always coming when he isn't, and studying -disobedience as an accomplishment. He is not confined, but loafs all -over the house and grounds, like the laughing jackass. I think he learns -to talk, I know he learns to sing tunes, and his friends say that he -knows how to steal without learning. I was acquainted with a tame magpie -in Melbourne. He had lived in a lady's house several years, and believed -he owned it. The lady had tamed him, and in return he had tamed the -lady. He was always on deck when not wanted, always having his own way, -always tyrannizing over the dog, and always making the cat's life a slow -sorrow and a martyrdom. He knew a number of tunes and could sing them in -perfect time and tune; and would do it, too, at any time that silence was -wanted; and then encore himself and do it again; but if he was asked to -sing he would go out and take a walk. - -<p>It was long believed that fruit trees would not grow in that baked and -waterless plain around Horsham, but the agricultural college has -dissipated that idea. Its ample nurseries were producing oranges, -apricots, lemons, almonds, peaches, cherries, 48 varieties of apples—in -fact, all manner of fruits, and in abundance. The trees did not seem to -miss the water; they were in vigorous and flourishing condition. - -<p>Experiments are made with different soils, to see what things thrive best -in them and what climates are best for them. A man who is ignorantly -trying to produce upon his farm things not suited to its soil and its -other conditions can make a journey to the college from anywhere in -Australia, and go back with a change of scheme which will make his farm -productive and profitable. - -<p>There were forty pupils there—a few of them farmers, relearning their -trade, the rest young men mainly from the cities—novices. It seemed a -strange thing that an agricultural college should have an attraction for -city-bred youths, but such is the fact. They are good stuff, too; they -are above the agricultural average of intelligence, and they come without -any inherited prejudices in favor of hoary ignorances made sacred by long -descent. - -<p>The students work all day in the fields, the nurseries, and the -shearing-sheds, learning and doing all the practical work of the business—three -days in a week. On the other three they study and hear lectures. They -are taught the beginnings of such sciences as bear upon agriculture—like -chemistry, for instance. We saw the sophomore class in sheep-shearing -shear a dozen sheep. They did it by hand, not with the machine. The -sheep was seized and flung down on his side and held there; and the -students took off his coat with great celerity and adroitness. Sometimes -they clipped off a sample of the sheep, but that is customary with -shearers, and they don't mind it; they don't even mind it as much as the -sheep. They dab a splotch of sheep-dip on the place and go right ahead. - -<p>The coat of wool was unbelievably thick. Before the shearing the sheep -looked like the fat woman in the circus; after it he looked like a bench. -He was clipped to the skin; and smoothly and uniformly. The fleece comes -from him all in one piece and has the spread of a blanket. - -<p>The college was flying the Australian flag—the gridiron of England -smuggled up in the northwest corner of a big red field that had the -random stars of the Southern Cross wandering around over it. - -<p>From Horsham we went to Stawell. By rail. Still in the colony of -Victoria. Stawell is in the gold-mining country. In the bank-safe was -half a peck of surface-gold—gold dust, grain gold; rich; pure in fact, -and pleasant to sift through one's fingers; and would be pleasanter if it -would stick. And there were a couple of gold bricks, very heavy to -handle, and worth $7,500 a piece. They were from a very valuable quartz -mine; a lady owns two-thirds of it; she has an income of $75,000 a month -from it, and is able to keep house. - -<p>The Stawell region is not productive of gold only; it has great -vineyards, and produces exceptionally fine wines. One of these -vineyards—the Great Western, owned by Mr. Irving—is regarded as a -model. Its product has reputation abroad. It yields a choice champagne -and a fine claret, and its hock took a prize in France two or three years -ago. The champagne is kept in a maze of passages under ground, cut in -the rock, to secure it an even temperature during the three-year term -required to perfect it. In those vaults I saw 120,000 bottles of -champagne. The colony of Victoria has a population of 1,000,000, and -those people are said to drink 25,000,000 bottles of champagne per year. -The dryest community on the earth. The government has lately reduced the -duty upon foreign wines. That is one of the unkindnesses of Protection. -A man invests years of work and a vast sum of money in a worthy -enterprise, upon the faith of existing laws; then the law is changed, and -the man is robbed by his own government. - -<p>On the way back to Stawell we had a chance to see a group of boulders -called the Three Sisters—a curiosity oddly located; for it was upon high -ground, with the land sloping away from it, and no height above it from -whence the boulders could have rolled down. Relics of an early -ice-drift, perhaps. They are noble boulders. One of them has the size and -smoothness and plump sphericity of a balloon of the biggest pattern. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p228.jpg (23K)" src="images/p228.jpg" height="389" width="615"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>The road led through a forest of great gum-trees, lean and scraggy and -sorrowful. The road was cream-white—a clayey kind of earth, apparently. -Along it toiled occasional freight wagons, drawn by long double files of -oxen. Those wagons were going a journey of two hundred miles, I was -told, and were running a successful opposition to the railway! The -railways are owned and run by the government. - -<p>Those sad gums stood up out of the dry white clay, pictures of patience -and resignation. It is a tree that can get along without water; still it -is fond of it—ravenously so. It is a very intelligent tree and will -detect the presence of hidden water at a distance of fifty feet, and send -out slender long root-fibres to prospect it. They will find it; and will -also get at it even through a cement wall six inches thick. Once a -cement water-pipe under ground at Stawell began to gradually reduce its -output, and finally ceased altogether to deliver water. Upon examining -into the matter it was found stopped up, wadded compactly with a mass of -root-fibres, delicate and hair-like. How this stuff had gotten into the -pipe was a puzzle for some little time; finally it was found that it had -crept in through a crack that was almost invisible to the eye. A gum -tree forty feet away had tapped the pipe and was drinking the water. - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch24"></a><br><br>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2> - -<p><i>There is no such thing as "the Queen's English." The property has gone -into the hands of a joint stock company and we own the bulk of the -shares!</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>Frequently, in Australia, one has cloud-effects of an unfamiliar sort. -We had this kind of scenery, finely staged, all the way to Ballarat. -Consequently we saw more sky than country on that journey. At one time a -great stretch of the vault was densely flecked with wee ragged-edged -flakes of painfully white cloud-stuff, all of one shape and size, and -equidistant apart, with narrow cracks of adorable blue showing between. -The whole was suggestive of a hurricane of snow-flakes drifting across -the skies. By and by these flakes fused themselves together in -interminable lines, with shady faint hollows between the lines, the long -satin-surfaced rollers following each other in simulated movement, and -enchantingly counterfeiting the majestic march of a flowing sea. Later, -the sea solidified itself; then gradually broke up its mass into -innumerable lofty white pillars of about one size, and ranged these -across the firmament, in receding and fading perspective, in the -similitude of a stupendous colonnade—a mirage without a doubt flung from -the far Gates of the Hereafter. - -<p>The approaches to Ballarat were beautiful. The features, great green -expanses of rolling pasture-land, bisected by eye-contenting hedges of -commingled new-gold and old-gold gorse—and a lovely lake. One must put -in the pause, there, to fetch the reader up with a slight jolt, and keep -him from gliding by without noticing the lake. One must notice it; for a -lovely lake is not as common a thing along the railways of Australia as -are the dry places. Ninety-two in the shade again, but balmy and -comfortable, fresh and bracing. A perfect climate. - -<p>Forty-five years ago the site now occupied by the City of Ballarat was a -sylvan solitude as quiet as Eden and as lovely. Nobody had ever heard of -it. On the 25th of August, 1851, the first great gold-strike made in -Australia was made here. The wandering prospectors who made it scraped -up two pounds and a half of gold the first day-worth $600. A few days -later the place was a hive—a town. The news of the strike spread -everywhere in a sort of instantaneous way—spread like a flash to the -very ends of the earth. A celebrity so prompt and so universal has -hardly been paralleled in history, perhaps. It was as if the name -BALLARAT had suddenly been written on the sky, where all the world could -read it at once. - -<p>The smaller discoveries made in the colony of New South Wales three -months before had already started emigrants toward Australia; they had -been coming as a stream, but they came as a flood, now. A hundred -thousand people poured into Melbourne from England and other countries in -a single month, and flocked away to the mines. The crews of the ships -that brought them flocked with them; the clerks in the government offices -followed; so did the cooks, the maids, the coachmen, the butlers, and the -other domestic servants; so did the carpenters, the smiths, the plumbers, -the painters, the reporters, the editors, the lawyers, the clients, the -barkeepers, the bummers, the blacklegs, the thieves, the loose women, the -grocers, the butchers, the bakers, the doctors, the druggists, the -nurses; so did the police; even officials of high and hitherto envied -place threw up their positions and joined the procession. This roaring -avalanche swept out of Melbourne and left it desolate, Sunday-like, -paralyzed, everything at a stand-still, the ships lying idle at anchor, -all signs of life departed, all sounds stilled save the rasping of the -cloud-shadows as they scraped across the vacant streets. - -<p>That grassy and leafy paradise at Ballarat was soon ripped open, and -lacerated and scarified and gutted, in the feverish search for its hidden -riches. There is nothing like surface-mining to snatch the graces and -beauties and benignities out of a paradise, and make an odious and -repulsive spectacle of it. - -<p>What fortunes were made! Immigrants got rich while the ship unloaded and -reloaded—and went back home for good in the same cabin they had come out -in! Not all of them. Only some. I saw the others in Ballarat myself, -forty-five years later—what were left of them by time and death and the -disposition to rove. They were young and gay, then; they are patriarchal -and grave, now; and they do not get excited any more. They talk of the -Past. They live in it. Their life is a dream, a retrospection. - -<p>Ballarat was a great region for "nuggets." No such nuggets were found in -California as Ballarat produced. In fact, the Ballarat region has -yielded the largest ones known to history. Two of them weighed about 180 -pounds each, and together were worth $90,000. They were offered to any -poor person who would shoulder them and carry them away. Gold was so -plentiful that it made people liberal like that. - -<p>Ballarat was a swarming city of tents in the early days. Everybody was -happy, for a time, and apparently prosperous. Then came trouble. The -government swooped down with a mining tax. And in its worst form, too; -for it was not a tax upon what the miner had taken out, but upon what he -was going to take out—if he could find it. It was a license-tax—license -to work his claim—and it had to be paid before he could begin digging. - -<p>Consider the situation. No business is so uncertain as surface-mining. -Your claim may be good, and it may be worthless. It may make you well -off in a month; and then again you may have to dig and slave for half a -year, at heavy expense, only to find out at last that the gold is not -there in cost-paying quantity, and that your time and your hard work have -been thrown away. It might be wise policy to advance the miner a monthly -sum to encourage him to develop the country's riches; but to tax him -monthly in advance instead—why, such a thing was never dreamed of in -America. There, neither the claim itself nor its products, howsoever -rich or poor, were taxed. - -<p>The Ballarat miners protested, petitioned, complained—it was of no use; -the government held its ground, and went on collecting the tax. And not -by pleasant methods, but by ways which must have been very galling to -free people. The rumblings of a coming storm began to be audible. - -<p>By and by there was a result; and I think it may be called the finest -thing in Australasian history. It was a revolution—small in size; but -great politically; it was a strike for liberty, a struggle for a -principle, a stand against injustice and oppression. It was the Barons -and John, over again; it was Hampden and Ship-Money; it was Concord and -Lexington; small beginnings, all of them, but all of them great in -political results, all of them epoch-making. It is another instance of a -victory won by a lost battle. It adds an honorable page to history; the -people know it and are proud of it. They keep green the memory of the -men who fell at the Eureka Stockade, and Peter Lalor has his monument. - -<p>The surface-soil of Ballarat was full of gold. This soil the miners -ripped and tore and trenched and harried and disembowled, and made it -yield up its immense treasure. Then they went down into the earth with -deep shafts, seeking the gravelly beds of ancient rivers and brooks—and -found them. They followed the courses of these streams, and gutted them, -sending the gravel up in buckets to the upper world, and washing out of -it its enormous deposits of gold. The next biggest of the two monster -nuggets mentioned above came from an old river-channel 180 feet under -ground. - -<p>Finally the quartz lodes were attacked. That is not poor-man's mining. -Quartz-mining and milling require capital, and staying-power, and -patience. Big companies were formed, and for several decades, now, the -lodes have been successfully worked, and have yielded great wealth. -Since the gold discovery in 1853 the Ballarat mines—taking the three -kinds of mining together—have contributed to the world's pocket -something over three hundred millions of dollars, which is to say that -this nearly invisible little spot on the earth's surface has yielded -about one-fourth as much gold in forty-four years as all California has -yielded in forty-seven. The Californian aggregate, from 1848 to 1895, -inclusive, as reported by the Statistician of the United States Mint, is -$1,265,217,217. - -<p>A citizen told me a curious thing about those mines. With all my -experience of mining I had never heard of anything of the sort before. -The main gold reef runs about north and south—of course—for that is the -custom of a rich gold reef. At Ballarat its course is between walls of -slate. Now the citizen told me that throughout a stretch of twelve miles -along the reef, the reef is crossed at intervals by a straight black -streak of a carbonaceous nature—a streak in the slate; a streak no -thicker than a pencil—and that wherever it crosses the reef you will -certainly find gold at the junction. It is called the Indicator. Thirty -feet on each side of the Indicator (and down in the slate, of course) is -a still finer streak—a streak as fine as a pencil mark; and indeed, that -is its name Pencil Mark. Whenever you find the Pencil Mark you know that -thirty feet from it is the Indicator; you measure the distance, excavate, -find the Indicator, trace it straight to the reef, and sink your shaft; -your fortune is made, for certain. If that is true, it is curious. And -it is curious anyway. - -<p>Ballarat is a town of only 40,000 population; and yet, since it is in -Australia, it has every essential of an advanced and enlightened big -city. This is pure matter of course. I must stop dwelling upon these -things. It is hard to keep from dwelling upon them, though; for it is -difficult to get away from the surprise of it. I will let the other -details go, this time, but I must allow myself to mention that this -little town has a park of 326 acres; a flower garden of 83 acres, with an -elaborate and expensive fernery in it and some costly and unusually fine -statuary; and an artificial lake covering 600 acres, equipped with a -fleet of 200 shells, small sail boats, and little steam yachts. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p236.jpg (55K)" src="images/p236.jpg" height="1045" width="609"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>At this point I strike out some other praiseful things which I was -tempted to add. I do not strike them out because they were not true or -not well said, but because I find them better said by another man—and a -man more competent to testify, too, because he belongs on the ground, and -knows. I clip them from a chatty speech delivered some years ago by Mr. -William Little, who was at that time mayor of Ballarat: - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "The language of our citizens, in this as in other parts of - Australasia, is mostly healthy Anglo-Saxon, free from Americanisms, - vulgarisms, and the conflicting dialects of our Fatherland, and is - pure enough to suit a Trench or a Latham. Our youth, aided by - climatic influence, are in point of physique and comeliness - unsurpassed in the Sunny South. Our young men are well ordered; and - our maidens, 'not stepping over the bounds of modesty,' are as fair - as Psyches, dispensing smiles as charming as November flowers." -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<p>The closing clause has the seeming of a rather frosty compliment, but -that is apparent only, not real. November is summer-time there. - -<p>His compliment to the local purity of the language is warranted. It is -quite free from impurities; this is acknowledged far and wide. As in the -German Empire all cultivated people claim to speak Hanovarian German, so -in Australasia all cultivated people claim to speak Ballarat English. -Even in England this cult has made considerable progress, and now that it -is favored by the two great Universities, the time is not far away when -Ballarat English will come into general use among the educated classes of -Great Britain at large. Its great merit is, that it is shorter than -ordinary English—that is, it is more compressed. At first you have some -difficulty in understanding it when it is spoken as rapidly as the orator -whom I have quoted speaks it. An illustration will show what I mean. -When he called and I handed him a chair, he bowed and said: - -<p>"Q." - -<p>Presently, when we were lighting our cigars, he held a match to mine and -I said: - -<p>"Thank you," and he said: - -<p>"Km." - -<p>Then I saw. 'Q' is the end of the phrase "I thank you" 'Km' is the end -of the phrase "You are welcome." Mr. Little puts no emphasis upon either -of them, but delivers them so reduced that they hardly have a sound. All -Ballarat English is like that, and the effect is very soft and pleasant; -it takes all the hardness and harshness out of our tongue and gives to it -a delicate whispery and vanishing cadence which charms the ear like the -faint rustling of the forest leaves. - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch25"></a><br><br>CHAPTER XXV.</h2> - -<p><i>"Classic." A book which people praise and don't read.</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>On the rail again—bound for Bendigo. From diary: - -<p>October 23. Got up at 6, left at 7.30; soon reached Castlemaine, one of -the rich gold-fields of the early days; waited several hours for a train; -left at 3.40 and reached Bendigo in an hour. For comrade, a Catholic -priest who was better than I was, but didn't seem to know it—a man full -of graces of the heart, the mind, and the spirit; a lovable man. He will -rise. He will be a bishop some day. Later an Archbishop. Later a -Cardinal. Finally an Archangel, I hope. And then he will recall me when -I say, "Do you remember that trip we made from Ballarat to Bendigo, when -you were nothing but Father C., and I was nothing to what I am now?" -It has actually taken nine hours to come from Ballarat to Bendigo. We -could have saved seven by walking. However, there was no hurry. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p240.jpg (52K)" src="images/p240.jpg" height="955" width="593"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>Bendigo was another of the rich strikes of the early days. It does a -great quartz-mining business, now—that business which, more than any -other that I know of, teaches patience, and requires grit and a steady -nerve. The town is full of towering chimney-stacks, and hoisting-works, -and looks like a petroleum-city. Speaking of patience; for example, one -of the local companies went steadily on with its deep borings and -searchings without show of gold or a penny of reward for eleven -years—then struck it, and became suddenly rich. The eleven years' work had -cost $55,000, and the first gold found was a grain the size of a pin's -head. It is kept under locks and bars, as a precious thing, and is -reverently shown to the visitor, "hats off." When I saw it I had not -heard its history. - -<p>"It is gold. Examine it—take the glass. Now how much should you say it -is worth?" - -<p>I said: - -<p>"I should say about two cents; or in your English dialect, four -farthings." - -<p>"Well, it cost L11,000." - -<p>"Oh, come!" - -<p>"Yes, it did. Ballarat and Bendigo have produced the three monumental -nuggets of the world, and this one is the monumentalest one of the three. -The other two represent L9,000 a piece; this one a couple of thousand -more. It is small, and not much to look at, but it is entitled to (its) -name—Adam. It is the Adam-nugget of this mine, and its children run up -into the millions." - -<p>Speaking of patience again, another of the mines was worked, under heavy -expenses, during 17 years before pay was struck, and still another one -compelled a wait of 21 years before pay was struck; then, in both -instances, the outlay was all back in a year or two, with compound -interest. - -<p>Bendigo has turned out even more gold than Ballarat. The two together -have produced $650,000,000 worth—which is half as much as California -produced. - -<p>It was through Mr. Blank—not to go into particulars about his name—it -was mainly through Mr. Blank that my stay in Bendigo was made memorably -pleasant and interesting. He explained this to me himself. He told me -that it was through his influence that the city government invited me to -the town-hall to hear complimentary speeches and respond to them; that it -was through his influence that I had been taken on a long pleasure-drive -through the city and shown its notable features; that it was through his -influence that I was invited to visit the great mines; that it was -through his influence that I was taken to the hospital and allowed to see -the convalescent Chinaman who had been attacked at midnight in his lonely -hut eight weeks before by robbers, and stabbed forty-six times and -scalped besides; that it was through his influence that when I arrived -this awful spectacle of piecings and patchings and bandagings was sitting -up in his cot letting on to read one of my books; that it was through his -influence that efforts had been made to get the Catholic Archbishop of -Bendigo to invite me to dinner; that it was through his influence that -efforts had been made to get the Anglican Bishop of Bendigo to ask me to -supper; that it was through his influence that the dean of the editorial -fraternity had driven me through the woodsy outlying country and shown -me, from the summit of Lone Tree Hill, the mightiest and loveliest -expanse of forest-clad mountain and valley that I had seen in all -Australia. And when he asked me what had most impressed me in Bendigo -and I answered and said it was the taste and the public spirit which had -adorned the streets with 105 miles of shade trees, he said that it was -through his influence that it had been done. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p243.jpg (20K)" src="images/p243.jpg" height="447" width="617"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>But I am not representing him quite correctly. He did not say it was -through his influence that all these things had happened—for that would -have been coarse; he merely conveyed that idea; conveyed it so subtly -that I only caught it fleetingly, as one catches vagrant faint breaths of -perfume when one traverses the meadows in summer; conveyed it without -offense and without any suggestion of egoism or ostentation—but conveyed -it, nevertheless. - -<p>He was an Irishman; an educated gentleman; grave, and kindly, and -courteous; a bachelor, and about forty-five or possibly fifty years old, -apparently. He called upon me at the hotel, and it was there that we had -this talk. He made me like him, and did it without trouble. This was -partly through his winning and gentle ways, but mainly through the -amazing familiarity with my books which his conversation showed. He was -down to date with them, too; and if he had made them the study of his -life he could hardly have been better posted as to their contents than he -was. He made me better satisfied with myself than I had ever been -before. It was plain that he had a deep fondness for humor, yet he never -laughed; he never even chuckled; in fact, humor could not win to outward -expression on his face at all. No, he was always grave—tenderly, -pensively grave; but he made me laugh, all along; and this was very -trying—and very pleasant at the same time—for it was at quotations from -my own books. - -<p>When he was going, he turned and said: - -<p>"You don't remember me?" - -<p>"I? Why, no. Have we met before?" - -<p>"No, it was a matter of correspondence." - -<p>"Correspondence?" - -<p>"Yes, many years ago. Twelve or fifteen. Oh, longer than that. But of -course you——" A musing pause. Then he said: - -<p>"Do you remember Corrigan Castle?" - -<p>"N-no, I believe I don't. I don't seem to recall the name." - -<p>He waited a moment, pondering, with the door-knob in his hand, then -started out; but turned back and said that I had once been interested in -Corrigan Castle, and asked me if I would go with him to his quarters in -the evening and take a hot Scotch and talk it over. I was a teetotaler -and liked relaxation, so I said I would. - -<p>We drove from the lecture-hall together about half-past ten. He had a -most comfortably and tastefully furnished parlor, with good pictures on -the walls, Indian and Japanese ornaments on the mantel, and here and -there, and books everywhere-largely mine; which made me proud. The light -was brilliant, the easy chairs were deep-cushioned, the arrangements for -brewing and smoking were all there. We brewed and lit up; then he passed -a sheet of note-paper to me and said— - -<p>"Do you remember that?" - -<p>"Oh, yes, indeed!" - -<p>The paper was of a sumptuous quality. At the top was a twisted and -interlaced monogram printed from steel dies in gold and blue and red, in -the ornate English fashion of long years ago; and under it, in neat -gothic capitals was this—printed in blue: - -<p> THE MARK TWAIN CLUB - CORRIGAN CASTLE - ............187.. - -<p>"My!" said I, "how did you come by this?" - -<p>"I was President of it." - -<p>"No!—you don't mean it." - -<p>"It is true. I was its first President. I was re-elected annually as -long as its meetings were held in my castle—Corrigan—which was five -years." - -<p>Then he showed me an album with twenty-three photographs of me in it. -Five of them were of old dates, the others of various later crops; the -list closed with a picture taken by Falk in Sydney a month before. - -<p>"You sent us the first five; the rest were bought." - -<p>This was paradise! We ran late, and talked, talked, talked—subject, the -Mark Twain Club of Corrigan Castle, Ireland. - -<p>My first knowledge of that Club dates away back; all of twenty years, I -should say. It came to me in the form of a courteous letter, written on -the note-paper which I have described, and signed "By order of the -President; C. PEMBROKE, Secretary." It conveyed the fact that the Club -had been created in my honor, and added the hope that this token of -appreciation of my work would meet with my approval. - -<p>I answered, with thanks; and did what I could to keep my gratification -from over-exposure. - -<p>It was then that the long correspondence began. A letter came back, by -order of the President, furnishing me the names of the members-thirty-two -in number. With it came a copy of the Constitution and By-Laws, in -pamphlet form, and artistically printed. The initiation fee and dues -were in their proper place; also, schedule of meetings—monthly—for -essays upon works of mine, followed by discussions; quarterly for -business and a supper, without essays, but with after-supper speeches; -also there was a list of the officers: President, Vice-President, -Secretary, Treasurer, etc. The letter was brief, but it was pleasant -reading, for it told me about the strong interest which the membership -took in their new venture, etc., etc. It also asked me for a -photograph—a special one. I went down and sat for it and sent it—with a letter, -of course. - -<p>Presently came the badge of the Club, and very dainty and pretty it was; -and very artistic. It was a frog peeping out from a graceful tangle of -grass-sprays and rushes, and was done in enamels on a gold basis, and had -a gold pin back of it. After I had petted it, and played with it, and -caressed it, and enjoyed it a couple of hours, the light happened to fall -upon it at a new angle, and revealed to me a cunning new detail; with the -light just right, certain delicate shadings of the grass-blades and -rush-stems wove themselves into a monogram—mine! You can see that that jewel -was a work of art. And when you come to consider the intrinsic value of -it, you must concede that it is not every literary club that could afford -a badge like that. It was easily worth $75, in the opinion of Messrs. -Marcus and Ward of New York. They said they could not duplicate it for -that and make a profit. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p247.jpg (6K)" src="images/p247.jpg" height="230" width="184"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>By this time the Club was well under way; and -from that time forth its secretary kept my off-hours well supplied with -business. He reported the Club's discussions of my books with laborious -fullness, and did his work with great spirit and ability. As a, rule, he -synopsized; but when a speech was especially brilliant, he short-handed -it and gave me the best passages from it, written out. There were five -speakers whom he particularly favored in that way: Palmer, Forbes, -Naylor, Norris, and Calder. Palmer and Forbes could never get through a -speech without attacking each other, and each in his own way was -formidably effective—Palmer in virile and eloquent abuse, Forbes in -courtly and elegant but scalding satire. I could always tell which of -them was talking without looking for his name. Naylor had a polished -style and a happy knack at felicitous metaphor; Norris's style was wholly -without ornament, but enviably compact, lucid, and strong. But after -all, Calder was the gem. He never spoke when sober, he spoke -continuously when he wasn't. And certainly they were the drunkest -speeches that a man ever uttered. They were full of good things, but so -incredibly mixed up and wandering that it made one's head swim to follow -him. They were not intended to be funny, but they were,—funny for the -very gravity which the speaker put into his flowing miracles of -incongruity. In the course of five years I came to know the styles of -the five orators as well as I knew the style of any speaker in my own -club at home. - -<p>These reports came every month. They were written on foolscap, 600 words -to the page, and usually about twenty-five pages in a report—a good -15,000 words, I should say,—a solid week's work. The reports were -absorbingly entertaining, long as they were; but, unfortunately for me, -they did not come alone. They were always accompanied by a lot of -questions about passages and purposes in my books, which the Club wanted -answered; and additionally accompanied every quarter by the Treasurer's -report, and the Auditor's report, and the Committee's report, and the -President's review, and my opinion of these was always desired; also -suggestions for the good of the Club, if any occurred to me. - -<p>By and by I came to dread those things; and this dread grew and grew and -grew; grew until I got to anticipating them with a cold horror. For I -was an indolent man, and not fond of letter-writing, and whenever these -things came I had to put everything by and sit down—for my own peace of -mind—and dig and dig until I got something out of my head which would -answer for a reply. I got along fairly well the first year; but for the -succeeding four years the Mark Twain Club of Corrigan Castle was my -curse, my nightmare, the grief and misery of my life. And I got so, so -sick of sitting for photographs. I sat every year for five years, trying -to satisfy that insatiable organization. Then at last I rose in revolt. -I could endure my oppressions no longer. I pulled my fortitude together -and tore off my chains, and was a free man again, and happy. From that -day I burned the secretary's fat envelopes the moment they arrived, and -by and by they ceased to come. - -<p>Well, in the sociable frankness of that night in Bendigo I brought this -all out in full confession. Then Mr. Blank came out in the same frank -way, and with a preliminary word of gentle apology said that he was the -Mark Twain Club, and the only member it had ever had! - -<p>Why, it was matter for anger, but I didn't feel any. He said he never -had to work for a living, and that by the time he was thirty life had -become a bore and a weariness to him. He had no interests left; they had -paled and perished, one by one, and left him desolate. He had begun to -think of suicide. Then all of a sudden he thought of that happy idea of -starting an imaginary club, and went straightway to work at it, with -enthusiasm and love. He was charmed with it; it gave him something to -do. It elaborated itself on his hands;—it became twenty times more -complex and formidable than was his first rude draft of it. Every new -addition to his original plan which cropped up in his mind gave him a -fresh interest and a new pleasure. He designed the Club badge himself, -and worked over it, altering and improving it, a number of days and -nights; then sent to London and had it made. It was the only one that -was made. It was made for me; the "rest of the Club" went without. - -<p>He invented the thirty-two members and their names. He invented the five -favorite speakers and their five separate styles. He invented their -speeches, and reported them himself. He would have kept that Club going -until now, if I hadn't deserted, he said. He said he worked like a slave -over those reports; each of them cost him from a week to a fortnight's -work, and the work gave him pleasure and kept him alive and willing to be -alive. It was a bitter blow to him when the Club died. - -<p>Finally, there wasn't any Corrigan Castle. He had invented that, too. - -<p>It was wonderful—the whole thing; and altogether the most ingenious and -laborious and cheerful and painstaking practical joke I have ever heard -of. And I liked it; liked to hear him tell about it; yet I have been a -hater of practical jokes from as long back as I can remember. Finally he -said— - -<p>"Do you remember a note from Melbourne fourteen or fifteen years ago, -telling about your lecture tour in Australia, and your death and burial -in Melbourne?—a note from Henry Bascomb, of Bascomb Hall, Upper -Holywell, Hants." - -<p>"Yes." - -<p>"I wrote it." - -<p>"M-y-word!" - -<p>"Yes, I did it. I don't know why. I just took the notion, and carried -it out without stopping to think. It was wrong. It could have done -harm. I was always sorry about it afterward. You must forgive me. I -was Mr. Bascom's guest on his yacht, on his voyage around the world. He -often spoke of you, and of the pleasant times you had had together in his -home; and the notion took me, there in Melbourne, and I imitated his -hand, and wrote the letter." - -<p>So the mystery was cleared up, after so many, many years. - - - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p251.jpg (21K)" src="images/p251.jpg" height="320" width="639"> -</center> - -<br><br> -<h2><a name="ch26"></a><br><br>CHAPTER XXVI.</h2> - -<p><i>There are people who can do all fine and heroic things but one! keep -from telling their happinesses to the unhappy.</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>After visits to Maryborough and some other Australian towns, we presently -took passage for New Zealand. If it would not look too much like showing -off, I would tell the reader where New Zealand is; for he is as I was; he -thinks he knows. And he thinks he knows where Hertzegovina is; and how -to pronounce pariah; and how to use the word unique without exposing -himself to the derision of the dictionary. But in truth, he knows none -of these things. There are but four or five people in the world who -possess this knowledge, and these make their living out of it. They -travel from place to place, visiting literary assemblages, geographical -societies, and seats of learning, and springing sudden bets that these -people do not know these things. Since all people think they know them, -they are an easy prey to these adventurers. Or rather they were an easy -prey until the law interfered, three months ago, and a New York court -decided that this kind of gambling is illegal, "because it traverses -Article IV, Section 9, of the Constitution of the United States, which -forbids betting on a sure thing." This decision was rendered by the full -Bench of the New York Supreme Court, after a test sprung upon the court -by counsel for the prosecution, which showed that none of the nine Judges -was able to answer any of the four questions. - -<p>All people think that New Zealand is close to Australia or Asia, or -somewhere, and that you cross to it on a bridge. But that is not so. It -is not close to anything, but lies by itself, out in the water. It is -nearest to Australia, but still not near. The gap between is very wide. -It will be a surprise to the reader, as it was to me, to learn that the -distance from Australia to New Zealand is really twelve or thirteen -hundred miles, and that there is no bridge. I learned this from -Professor X., of Yale University, whom I met in the steamer on the great -lakes when I was crossing the continent to sail across the Pacific. I -asked him about New Zealand, in order to make conversation. I supposed -he would generalize a little without compromising himself, and then turn -the subject to something he was acquainted with, and my object would then -be attained; the ice would be broken, and we could go smoothly on, and -get acquainted, and have a pleasant time. But, to my surprise, he was -not only not embarrassed by my question, but seemed to welcome it, and to -take a distinct interest in it. He began to talk—fluently, confidently, -comfortably; and as he talked, my admiration grew and grew; for as the -subject developed under his hands, I saw that he not only knew where New -Zealand was, but that he was minutely familiar with every detail of its -history, politics, religions, and commerce, its fauna, flora, geology, -products, and climatic peculiarities. When he was done, I was lost in -wonder and admiration, and said to myself, he knows everything; in the -domain of human knowledge he is king. - -<p>I wanted to see him do more miracles; and so, just for the pleasure of -hearing him answer, I asked him about Hertzegovina, and pariah, and -unique. But he began to generalize then, and show distress. I saw that -with New Zealand gone, he was a Samson shorn of his locks; he was as -other men. This was a curious and interesting mystery, and I was frank -with him, and asked him to explain it. - -<p>He tried to avoid it at first; but then laughed and said that after all, -the matter was not worth concealment, so he would let me into the secret. -In substance, this is his story: - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p>"Last autumn I was at work one morning at home, when a card came up—the -card of a stranger. Under the name was printed a line which showed that -this visitor was Professor of Theological Engineering in Wellington -University, New Zealand. I was troubled—troubled, I mean, by the -shortness of the notice. College etiquette required that he be at once -invited to dinner by some member of the Faculty—invited to dine on that -day—not, put off till a subsequent day. I did not quite know what to -do. College etiquette requires, in the case of a foreign guest, that the -dinner-talk shall begin with complimentary references to his country, its -great men, its services to civilization, its seats of learning, and -things like that; and of course the host is responsible, and must either -begin this talk himself or see that it is done by some one else. I was -in great difficulty; and the more I searched my memory, the more my -trouble grew. I found that I knew nothing about New Zealand. I thought -I knew where it was, and that was all. I had an impression that it was -close to Australia, or Asia, or somewhere, and that one went over to it -on a bridge. This might turn out to be incorrect; and even if correct, -it would not furnish matter enough for the purpose at the dinner, and I -should expose my College to shame before my guest; he would see that I, a -member of the Faculty of the first University in America, was wholly -ignorant of his country, and he would go away and tell this, and laugh at -it. The thought of it made my face burn. - -<p>"I sent for my wife and told her how I was situated, and asked for her -help, and she thought of a thing which I might have thought of myself, if -I had not been excited and worried. She said she would go and tell the -visitor that I was out but would be in in a few minutes; and she would -talk, and keep him busy while I got out the back way and hurried over and -make Professor Lawson give the dinner. For Lawson knew everything, and -could meet the guest in a creditable way and save the reputation of the -University. -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p253.jpg (34K)" src="images/p253.jpg" height="521" width="401"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p>I ran to Lawson, but was disappointed. He did not know -anything about New Zealand. He said that, as far as his recollection -went it was close to Australia, or Asia, or somewhere, and you go over to -it on a bridge; but that was all he knew. It was too bad. Lawson was a -perfect encyclopedia of abstruse learning; but now in this hour of our -need, it turned out that he did not know any useful thing. - -<p>"We consulted. He saw that the reputation of the University was in very -real peril, and he walked the floor in anxiety, talking, and trying to -think out some way to meet the difficulty. Presently he decided that we -must try the rest of the Faculty—some of them might know about New -Zealand. So we went to the telephone and called up the professor of -astronomy and asked him, and he said that all he knew was, that it was -close to Australia, or Asia, or somewhere, and you went over to it on—— - -<p>"We shut him off and called up the professor of biology, and he said that -all he knew was that it was close to Aus——. -</blockquote></blockquote> - - -<center> -<table summary=""> -<tr> -<td> -<img alt="p254a.jpg (6K)" src="images/p254a.jpg" height="384" width="153"> - - -</td> - -<td><img alt="p254b.jpg (5K)" src="images/p254b.jpg" height="380" width="135"> -</td> - -</tr> -</table> -</center> - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p>"We shut him off, and sat down, worried and disheartened, to see if we -could think up some other scheme. We shortly hit upon one which promised -well, and this one we adopted, and set its machinery going at once. It -was this. Lawson must give the dinner. The Faculty must be notified by -telephone to prepare. We must all get to work diligently, and at the end -of eight hours and a half we must come to dinner acquainted with New -Zealand; at least well enough informed to appear without discredit before -this native. To seem properly intelligent we should have to know about -New Zealand's population, and politics, and form of government, and -commerce, and taxes, and products, and ancient history, and modern -history, and varieties of religion, and nature of the laws, and their -codification, and amount of revenue, and whence drawn, and methods of -collection, and percentage of loss, and character of climate, and—well, -a lot of things like that; we must suck the maps and cyclopedias dry. -And while we posted up in this way, the Faculty's wives must flock over, -one after the other, in a studiedly casual way, and help my wife keep the -New Zealander quiet, and not let him get out and come interfering with -our studies. The scheme worked admirably; but it stopped business, -stopped it entirely. - -<p>"It is in the official log-book of Yale, to be read and wondered at by -future generations—the account of the Great Blank Day—the memorable -Blank Day—the day wherein the wheels of culture were stopped, a Sunday -silence prevailed all about, and the whole University stood still while -the Faculty read-up and qualified itself to sit at meat, without shame, -in the presence of the Professor of Theological Engineering from New -Zealand: - -<p>"When we assembled at the dinner we were miserably tired and worn—but we -were posted. Yes, it is fair to claim that. In fact, erudition is a -pale name for it. New Zealand was the only subject; and it was just -beautiful to hear us ripple it out. And with such an air of -unembarrassed ease, and unostentatious familiarity with detail, and -trained and seasoned mastery of the subject-and oh, the grace and fluency -of it! - -<p>"Well, finally somebody happened to notice that the guest was looking -dazed, and wasn't saying anything. So they stirred him up, of course. -Then that man came out with a good, honest, eloquent compliment that made -the Faculty blush. He said he was not worthy to sit in the company of -men like these; that he had been silent from admiration; that he had been -silent from another cause also—silent from shame—silent from ignorance! -'For,' said he, 'I, who have lived eighteen years in New Zealand and have -served five in a professorship, and ought to know much about that -country, perceive, now, that I know almost nothing about it. I say it -with shame, that I have learned fifty times, yes, a hundred times more -about New Zealand in these two hours at this table than I ever knew -before in all the eighteen years put together. I was silent because I -could not help myself. What I knew about taxes, and policies, and laws, -and revenue, and products, and history, and all that multitude of things, -was but general, and ordinary, and vague-unscientific, in a word—and it -would have been insanity to expose it here to the searching glare of your -amazingly accurate and all-comprehensive knowledge of those matters, -gentlemen. I beg you to let me sit silent—as becomes me. But do not -change the subject; I can at least follow you, in this one; whereas if -you change to one which shall call out the full strength of your mighty -erudition, I shall be as one lost. If you know all this about a remote -little inconsequent patch like New Zealand, ah, what wouldn't you know -about any other Subject!'" -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p255.jpg (18K)" src="images/p255.jpg" height="517" width="343"> -</center> - - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch27"></a><br><br>CHAPTER XXVII.</h2> - -<p><i>Man is the Only Animal that Blushes. Or needs to.</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p><i>The universal brotherhood of man is our most precious possession, what -there is of it.</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>FROM DIARY: - -<p>November 1—noon. A fine day, a brilliant sun. Warm in the sun, cold -in the shade—an icy breeze blowing out of the south. A solemn long -swell rolling up northward. It comes from the South Pole, with nothing -in the way to obstruct its march and tone its energy down. I have read -somewhere that an acute observer among the early explorers—Cook? or -Tasman?—accepted this majestic swell as trustworthy circumstantial -evidence that no important land lay to the southward, and so did not -waste time on a useless quest in that direction, but changed his course -and went searching elsewhere. - -<p>Afternoon. Passing between Tasmania (formerly Van Diemen's Land) and -neighboring islands—islands whence the poor exiled Tasmanian savages -used to gaze at their lost homeland and cry; and die of broken hearts. -How glad I am that all these native races are dead and gone, or nearly -so. The work was mercifully swift and horrible in some portions of -Australia. As far as Tasmania is concerned, the extermination was -complete: not a native is left. It was a strife of years, and decades of -years. The Whites and the Blacks hunted each other, ambushed each other, -butchered each other. The Blacks were not numerous. But they were wary, -alert, cunning, and they knew their country well. They lasted a long -time, few as they were, and inflicted much slaughter upon the Whites. - -<p>The Government wanted to save the Blacks from ultimate extermination, if -possible. One of its schemes was to capture them and coop them up, on a -neighboring island, under guard. Bodies of Whites volunteered for the -hunt, for the pay was good—L5 for each Black captured and delivered, but -the success achieved was not very satisfactory. The Black was naked, and -his body was greased. It was hard to get a grip on him that would hold. -The Whites moved about in armed bodies, and surprised little families of -natives, and did make captures; but it was suspected that in these -surprises half a dozen natives were killed to one caught—and that was -not what the Government desired. - -<p>Another scheme was to drive the natives into a corner of the island and -fence them in by a cordon of men placed in line across the country; but -the natives managed to slip through, constantly, and continue their -murders and arsons. - -<p>The governor warned these unlettered savages by printed proclamation that -they must stay in the desolate region officially appointed for them! The -proclamation was a dead letter; the savages could not read it. Afterward -a picture-proclamation was issued. It was painted up on boards, and -these were nailed to trees in the forest. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p258.jpg (53K)" src="images/p258.jpg" height="997" width="561"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>Herewith is a photographic -reproduction of this fashion-plate. Substantially it means: - -<p>1. The Governor wishes the Whites and the Blacks to love each other; - -<p>2. He loves his black subjects; - -<p>3. Blacks who kill Whites will be hanged; - -<p>4. Whites who kill Blacks will be hanged. - -<p>Upon its several schemes the Government spent L30,000 and employed the -labors and ingenuities of several thousand Whites for a long time with -failure as a result. Then, at last, a quarter of a century after the -beginning of the troubles between the two races, the right man was found. -No, he found himself. This was George Augustus Robinson, called in -history "The Conciliator." He was not educated, and not conspicuous in -any way. He was a working bricklayer, in Hobart Town. But he must have -been an amazing personality; a man worth traveling far to see. It may be -his counterpart appears in history, but I do not know where to look for -it. - -<p>He set himself this incredible task: to go out into the wilderness, the -jungle, and the mountain-retreats where the hunted and implacable savages -were hidden, and appear among them unarmed, speak the language of love -and of kindness to them, and persuade them to forsake their homes and the -wild free life that was so dear to them, and go with him and surrender to -the hated Whites and live under their watch and ward, and upon their -charity the rest of their lives! On its face it was the dream of a -madman. - -<p>In the beginning, his moral-suasion project was sarcastically dubbed the -sugar plum speculation. If the scheme was striking, and new to the -world's experience, the situation was not less so. It was this. The -White population numbered 40,000 in 1831; the Black population numbered -three hundred. Not 300 warriors, but 300 men, women, and children. The -Whites were armed with guns, the Blacks with clubs and spears. The -Whites had fought the Blacks for a quarter of a century, and had tried -every thinkable way to capture, kill, or subdue them; and could not do -it. If white men of any race could have done it, these would have -accomplished it. But every scheme had failed, the splendid 300, the -matchless 300 were unconquered, and manifestly unconquerable. They would -not yield, they would listen to no terms, they would fight to the bitter -end. Yet they had no poet to keep up their heart, and sing the marvel of -their magnificent patriotism. - -<p>At the end of five-and-twenty years of hard fighting, the surviving 300 -naked patriots were still defiant, still persistent, still efficacious -with their rude weapons, and the Governor and the 40,000 knew not which -way to turn, nor what to do. - -<p>Then the Bricklayer—that wonderful man—proposed to go out into the -wilderness, with no weapon but his tongue, and no protection but his -honest eye and his humane heart; and track those embittered savages to -their lairs in the gloomy forests and among the mountain snows. -Naturally, he was considered a crank. But he was not quite that. In -fact, he was a good way short of that. He was building upon his long and -intimate knowledge of the native character. The deriders of his project -were right—from their standpoint—for they believed the natives to be -mere wild beasts; and Robinson was right, from his standpoint—for he -believed the natives to be human beings. The truth did really lie -between the two. The event proved that Robinson's judgment was soundest; -but about once a month for four years the event came near to giving the -verdict to the deriders, for about that frequently Robinson barely -escaped falling under the native spears. - -<p>But history shows that he had a thinking head, and was not a mere wild -sentimentalist. For instance, he wanted the war parties called in -before he started unarmed upon his mission of peace. He wanted the best -chance of success—not a half-chance. And he was very willing to have -help; and so, high rewards were advertised, for any who would go unarmed -with him. This opportunity was declined. Robinson persuaded some tamed -natives of both sexes to go with him—a strong evidence of his persuasive -powers, for those natives well knew that their destruction would be -almost certain. As it turned out, they had to face death over and over -again. - -<p>Robinson and his little party had a difficult undertaking upon their -hands. They could not ride off, horseback, comfortably into the woods -and call Leonidas and his 300 together for a talk and a treaty the -following day; for the wild men were not in a body; they were scattered, -immense distances apart, over regions so desolate that even the birds -could not make a living with the chances offered—scattered in groups of -twenty, a dozen, half a dozen, even in groups of three. And the mission -must go on foot. Mr. Bonwick furnishes a description of those horrible -regions, whereby it will be seen that even fugitive gangs of the hardiest -and choicest human devils the world has seen—the convicts set apart to -people the "Hell of Macquarrie Harbor Station"—were never able, but -once, to survive the horrors of a march through them, but starving and -struggling, and fainting and failing, ate each other, and died: - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p>"Onward, still onward, was the order of the indomitable Robinson. No one -ignorant of the western country of Tasmania can form a correct idea of -the traveling difficulties. While I was resident in Hobart Town, the -Governor, Sir John Franklin, and his lady, undertook the western journey -to Macquarrie Harbor, and suffered terribly. One man who assisted to -carry her ladyship through the swamps, gave me his bitter experience of -its miseries. Several were disabled for life. No wonder that but one -party, escaping from Macquarrie Harbor convict settlement, arrived at the -civilized region in safety. Men perished in the scrub, were lost in -snow, or were devoured by their companions. This was the territory -traversed by Mr. Robinson and his Black guides. All honor to his -intrepidity, and their wonderful fidelity! When they had, in the depth -of winter, to cross deep and rapid rivers, pass among mountains six -thousand feet high, pierce dangerous thickets, and find food in a country -forsaken even by birds, we can realize their hardships. - -<p>"After a frightful journey by Cradle Mountain, and over the lofty plateau -of Middlesex Plains, the travelers experienced unwonted misery, and the -circumstances called forth the best qualities of the noble little band. -Mr. Robinson wrote afterwards to Mr. Secretary Burnett some details of -this passage of horrors. In that letter, of Oct 2, 1834, he states that -his Natives were very reluctant to go over the dreadful mountain passes; -that 'for seven successive days we continued traveling over one solid -body of snow;' that 'the snows were of incredible depth;' that 'the -Natives were frequently up to their middle in snow.' But still the -ill-clad, ill-fed, diseased, and way-worn men and women were sustained by the -cheerful voice of their unconquerable friend, and responded most nobly to -his call." -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<p>Mr. Bonwick says that Robinson's friendly capture of the Big River tribe -remember, it was a whole tribe—"was by far the grandest feature of the -war, and the crowning glory of his efforts." The word "war" was not well -chosen, and is misleading. There was war still, but only the Blacks were -conducting it—the Whites were holding off until Robinson could give his -scheme a fair trial. I think that we are to understand that the friendly -capture of that tribe was by far the most important thing, the highest in -value, that happened during the whole thirty years of truceless -hostilities; that it was a decisive thing, a peaceful Waterloo, the -surrender of the native Napoleon and his dreaded forces, the happy ending -of the long strife. For "that tribe was the terror of the colony," its -chief "the Black Douglas of Bush households." - -<p>Robinson knew that these formidable people were lurking somewhere, in -some remote corner of the hideous regions just described, and he and his -unarmed little party started on a tedious and perilous hunt for them. At -last, "there, under the shadows of the Frenchman's Cap, whose grim cone -rose five thousand feet in the uninhabited westward interior," they were -found. It was a serious moment. Robinson himself believed, for once, -that his mission, successful until now, was to end here in failure, and -that his own death-hour had struck. - -<p>The redoubtable chief stood in menacing attitude, with his eighteen-foot -spear poised; his warriors stood massed at his back, armed for battle, -their faces eloquent with their long-cherished loathing for white men. -"They rattled their spears and shouted their war-cry." Their women were -back of them, laden with supplies of weapons, and keeping their 150 eager -dogs quiet until the chief should give the signal to fall on. - -<p>"I think we shall soon be in the resurrection," whispered a member of -Robinson's little party. - -<p>"I think we shall," answered Robinson; then plucked up heart and began -his persuasions—in the tribe's own dialect, which surprised and pleased -the chief. Presently there was an interruption by the chief: - -<p>"Who are you?" - -<p>"We are gentlemen." - -<p>"Where are your guns?" - -<p>"We have none." - -<p>The warrior was astonished. - -<p>"Where your little guns?" (pistols). - -<p>"We have none." - -<p>A few minutes passed—in by-play—suspense—discussion among the -tribesmen—Robinson's tamed squaws ventured to cross the line and begin -persuasions upon the wild squaws. Then the chief stepped back "to confer -with the old women—the real arbiters of savage war." Mr. Bonwick -continues: - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "As the fallen gladiator in the arena looks for the signal of life - or death from the president of the amphitheatre, so waited our - friends in anxious suspense while the conference continued. In a - few minutes, before a word was uttered, the women of the tribe threw - up their arms three times. This was the inviolable sign of peace! - Down fell the spears. Forward, with a heavy sigh of relief, and - upward glance of gratitude, came the friends of peace. The - impulsive natives rushed forth with tears and cries, as each saw in - the other's ranks a loved one of the past. - -<p> "It was a jubilee of joy. A festival followed. And, while tears - flowed at the recital of woe, a corrobory of pleasant laughter - closed the eventful day." -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<p>In four years, without the spilling of a drop of blood, Robinson brought -them all in, willing captives, and delivered them to the white governor, -and ended the war which powder and bullets, and thousands of men to use -them, had prosecuted without result since 1804. - -<p>Marsyas charming the wild beasts with his music—that is fable; but the -miracle wrought by Robinson is fact. It is history—and authentic; and -surely, there is nothing greater, nothing more reverence-compelling in -the history of any country, ancient or modern. - -<p>And in memory of the greatest man Australasia ever developed or ever will -develop, there is a stately monument to George Augustus Robinson, the -Conciliator in—no, it is to another man, I forget his name. - -<p>However, Robertson's own generation honored him, and in manifesting it -honored themselves. The Government gave him a money-reward and a -thousand acres of land; and the people held mass-meetings and praised him -and emphasized their praise with a large subscription of money. - -<p>A good dramatic situation; but the curtain fell on another: - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "When this desperate tribe was thus captured, there was much - surprise to find that the L30,000 of a little earlier day had been - spent, and the whole population of the colony placed under arms, in - contention with an opposing force of sixteen men with wooden spears! - Yet such was the fact. The celebrated Big River tribe, that had - been raised by European fears to a host, consisted of sixteen men, - nine women, and one child. With a knowledge of the mischief done by - these few, their wonderful marches and their widespread aggressions, - their enemies cannot deny to them the attributes of courage and - military tact. A Wallace might harass a large army with a small and - determined band; but the contending parties were at least equal in - arms and civilization. The Zulus who fought us in Africa, the - Maories in New Zealand, the Arabs in the Soudan, were far better - provided with weapons, more advanced in the science of war, and - considerably more numerous, than the naked Tasmanians. Governor - Arthur rightly termed them a noble race." -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<p>These were indeed wonderful people, the natives. They ought not to have -been wasted. They should have been crossed with the Whites. It would -have improved the Whites and done the Natives no harm. - -<p>But the Natives were wasted, poor heroic wild creatures. They were -gathered together in little settlements on neighboring islands, and -paternally cared for by the Government, and instructed in religion, and -deprived of tobacco, because the superintendent of the Sunday-school was -not a smoker, and so considered smoking immoral. - -<p>The Natives were not used to clothes, and houses, and regular hours, and -church, and school, and Sunday-school, and work, and the other misplaced -persecutions of civilization, and they pined for their lost home and -their wild free life. Too late they repented that they had traded that -heaven for this hell. They sat homesick on their alien crags, and day by -day gazed out through their tears over the sea with unappeasable longing -toward the hazy bulk which was the specter of what had been their -paradise; one by one their hearts broke and they died. - -<p>In a very few years nothing but a scant remnant remained alive. A -handful lingered along into age. In 1864 the last man died, in 1876 the -last woman died, and the Spartans of Australasia were extinct. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p266.jpg (40K)" src="images/p266.jpg" height="1015" width="583"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>The Whites always mean well when they take human fish out of the ocean -and try to make them dry and warm and happy and comfortable in a chicken -coop; but the kindest-hearted white man can always be depended on to -prove himself inadequate when he deals with savages. He cannot turn the -situation around and imagine how he would like it to have a well-meaning -savage transfer him from his house and his church and his clothes and his -books and his choice food to a hideous wilderness of sand and rocks and -snow, and ice and sleet and storm and blistering sun, with no shelter, no -bed, no covering for his and his family's naked bodies, and nothing to -eat but snakes and grubs and 'offal. This would be a hell to him; and if -he had any wisdom he would know that his own civilization is a hell to -the savage—but he hasn't any, and has never had any; and for lack of it -he shut up those poor natives in the unimaginable perdition of his -civilization, committing his crime with the very best intentions, and saw -those poor creatures waste away under his tortures; and gazed at it, -vaguely troubled and sorrowful, and wondered what could be the matter -with them. One is almost betrayed into respecting those criminals, they -were so sincerely kind, and tender, and humane; and well-meaning. - -<p><i>They</i> didn't know why those exiled savages faded away, and they did their -honest best to reason it out. And one man, in a like case in New South -Wales, did reason it out and arrive at a solution: - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> <i>"It is from the wrath of God, which is revealed from heaven against - cold ungodliness and unrighteousness of men."</i> -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<p>That settles it. - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch28"></a><br><br>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h2> - -<p><i>Let us be thankful for the fools. But for them the rest of us could not -succeed.</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>The aphorism does really seem true: "Given the Circumstances, the Man -will appear." But the man musn't appear ahead of time, or it will spoil -everything. In Robinson's case the Moment had been approaching for a -quarter of a century—and meantime the future Conciliator was tranquilly -laying bricks in Hobart. When all other means had failed, the Moment had -arrived, and the Bricklayer put down his trowel and came forward. -Earlier he would have been jeered back to his trowel again. It reminds -me of a tale that was told me by a Kentuckian on the train when we were -crossing Montana. He said the tale was current in Louisville years ago. -He thought it had been in print, but could not remember. At any rate, in -substance it was this, as nearly as I can call it back to mind. - -<p>A few years before the outbreak of the Civil War it began to appear that -Memphis, Tennessee, was going to be a great tobacco entrepot—the wise -could see the signs of it. At that time Memphis had a wharf boat, of -course. There was a paved sloping wharf, for the accommodation of -freight, but the steamers landed on the outside of the wharfboat, and all -loading and unloading was done across it, between steamer and shore. A -number of wharfboat clerks were needed, and part of the time, every day, -they were very busy, and part of the time tediously idle. They were -boiling over with youth and spirits, and they had to make the intervals -of idleness endurable in some way; and as a rule, they did it by -contriving practical jokes and playing them upon each other. - -<p>The favorite butt for the jokes was Ed Jackson, because he played none -himself, and was easy game for other people's—for he always believed -whatever was told him. - -<p>One day he told the others his scheme for his holiday. He was not going -fishing or hunting this time—no, he had thought out a better plan. Out -of his $40 a month he had saved enough for his purpose, in an economical -way, and he was going to have a look at New York. - -<p>It was a great and surprising idea. It meant travel—immense travel—in -those days it meant seeing the world; it was the equivalent of a voyage -around it in ours. At first the other youths thought his mind was -affected, but when they found that he was in earnest, the next thing to -be thought of was, what sort of opportunity this venture might afford for -a practical joke. - -<p>The young men studied over the matter, then held a secret consultation -and made a plan. The idea was, that one of the conspirators should offer -Ed a letter of introduction to Commodore Vanderbilt, and trick him into -delivering it. It would be easy to do this. But what would Ed do when -he got back to Memphis? That was a serious matter. He was good-hearted, -and had always taken the jokes patiently; but they had been jokes which -did not humiliate him, did not bring him to shame; whereas, this would be -a cruel one in that way, and to play it was to meddle with fire; for with -all his good nature, Ed was a Southerner—and the English of that was, -that when he came back he would kill as many of the conspirators as he -could before falling himself. However, the chances must be taken—it -wouldn't do to waste such a joke as that. - -<p>So the letter was prepared with great care and elaboration. It was -signed Alfred Fairchild, and was written in an easy and friendly spirit. -It stated that the bearer was the bosom friend of the writer's son, and -was of good parts and sterling character, and it begged the Commodore to -be kind to the young stranger for the writer's sake. It went on to say, -"You may have forgotten me, in this long stretch of time, but you will -easily call me back out of your boyhood memories when I remind you of how -we robbed old Stevenson's orchard that night; and how, while he was -chasing down the road after us, we cut across the field and doubled back -and sold his own apples to his own cook for a hat-full of doughnuts; and -the time that we——" and so forth and so on, bringing in names of -imaginary comrades, and detailing all sorts of wild and absurd and, of -course, wholly imaginary schoolboy pranks and adventures, but putting -them into lively and telling shape. - -<p>With all gravity Ed was asked if he would like to have a letter to -Commodore Vanderbilt, the great millionaire. It was expected that the -question would astonish Ed, and it did. - -<p>"What? Do you know that extraordinary man?" - -<p>"No; but my father does. They were schoolboys together. And if you -like, I'll write and ask father. I know he'll be glad to give it to you -for my sake." - -<p>Ed could not find words capable of expressing his gratitude and delight. -The three days passed, and the letter was put into his bands. He started -on his trip, still pouring out his thanks while he shook good-bye all -around. And when he was out of sight his comrades let fly their laughter -in a storm of happy satisfaction—and then quieted down, and were less -happy, less satisfied. For the old doubts as to the wisdom of this -deception began to intrude again. - -<p>Arrived in New York, Ed found his way to Commodore Vanderbilt's business -quarters, and was ushered into a large anteroom, where a score of people -were patiently awaiting their turn for a two-minute interview with the -millionaire in his private office. A servant asked for Ed's card, and -got the letter instead. Ed was sent for a moment later, and found Mr. -Vanderbilt alone, with the letter—open—in his hand. - -<p>"Pray sit down, Mr. —er—" - -<p>"Jackson." - -<p>"Ah—sit down, Mr. Jackson. By the opening sentences it seems to be a -letter from an old friend. Allow me—I will run my eye through it. He -says he says—why, who is it?" He turned the sheet and found the -signature. "Alfred Fairchild—hm—Fairchild—I don't recall the name. -But that is nothing—a thousand names have gone from me. He says—he -says-hm-hmoh, dear, but it's good! Oh, it's rare! I don't quite -remember it, but I seem to it'll all come back to me presently. He -says—he says—hm—hm-oh, but that was a game! Oh, spl-endid! How it -carries me back! It's all dim, of course it's a long time ago—and the -names—some of the names are wavery and indistinct—but sho', I know it -happened—I can feel it! and lord, how it warms my heart, and brings -back my lost youth! Well, well, well, I've got to come back into this -work-a-day world now—business presses and people are waiting—I'll keep -the rest for bed to-night, and live my youth over again. And you'll -thank Fairchild for me when you see him—I used to call him Alf, I -think—and you'll give him my gratitude for—what this letter has done for the -tired spirit of a hard-worked man; and tell him there isn't anything that -I can do for him or any friend of his that I won't do. And as for you, -my lad, you are my guest; you can't stop at any hotel in New York. Sit. -where you are a little while, till I get through with these people, then -we'll go home. I'll take care of you, my boy—make yourself easy as to -that." - -<p>Ed stayed a week, and had an immense time—and never suspected that the -Commodore's shrewd eye was on him, and that he was daily being weighed -and measured and analyzed and tried and tested. - -<p>Yes, he had an immense time; and never wrote home, but saved it all up to -tell when he should get back. Twice, with proper modesty and decency, he -proposed to end his visit, but the Commodore said, "No—wait; leave it to -me; I'll tell you when to go." - -<p>In those days the Commodore was making some of those vast combinations of -his—consolidations of warring odds and ends of railroads into harmonious -systems, and concentrations of floating and rudderless commerce in -effective centers—and among other things his farseeing eye had detected -the convergence of that huge tobacco-commerce, already spoken of, toward -Memphis, and he had resolved to set his grasp upon it and make it his -own. - -<p>The week came to an end. Then the Commodore said: - -<p>"Now you can start home. But first we will have some more talk about -that tobacco matter. I know you now. I know your abilities as well as -you know them yourself—perhaps better. You understand that tobacco -matter; you understand that I am going to take possession of it, and you -also understand the plans which I have matured for doing it. What I want -is a man who knows my mind, and is qualified to represent me in Memphis, -and be in supreme command of that important business—and I appoint you." - -<p>"Me!" - -<p>"Yes. Your salary will be high—of course-for you are representing me. -Later you will earn increases of it, and will get them. You will need a -small army of assistants; choose them yourself—and carefully. Take no -man for friendship's sake; but, all things being equal, take the man you -know, take your friend, in preference to the stranger." After some -further talk under this head, the Commodore said: - -<p>"Good-bye, my boy, and thank Alf for me, for sending you to me." - -<p>When Ed reached Memphis he rushed down to the wharf in a fever to tell -his great news and thank the boys over and over again for thinking to -give him the letter to Mr. Vanderbilt. It happened to be one of those -idle times. Blazing hot noonday, and no sign of life on the wharf. But -as Ed threaded his way among the freight piles, he saw a white linen -figure stretched in slumber upon a pile of grain-sacks under an awning, -and said to himself, "That's one of them," and hastened his step; next, -he said, "It's Charley—it's Fairchild good"; and the next moment laid an -affectionate hand on the sleeper's shoulder. The eyes opened lazily, -took one glance, the face blanched, the form whirled itself from the -sack-pile, and in an instant Ed was alone and Fairchild was flying for -the wharf-boat like the wind! - -<p>Ed was dazed, stupefied. Was Fairchild crazy? What could be the meaning -of this? He started slow and dreamily down toward the wharf-boat; turned -the corner of a freight-pile and came suddenly upon two of the boys. -They were lightly laughing over some pleasant matter; they heard his -step, and glanced up just as he discovered them; the laugh died abruptly; -and before Ed could speak they were off, and sailing over barrels and -bales like hunted deer. Again Ed was paralyzed. Had the boys all gone -mad? What could be the explanation of this extraordinary conduct? And -so, dreaming along, he reached the wharf-boat, and stepped aboard—nothing -but silence there, and vacancy. He crossed the deck, turned the corner -to go down the outer guard, heard a fervent— - -<p>"O lord!" and saw a white linen form plunge overboard. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p274.jpg (62K)" src="images/p274.jpg" height="1063" width="631"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>The youth came up coughing and strangling, and cried out— - -<p>"Go 'way from here! You let me alone. I didn't do it, I swear I -didn't!" - -<p>"Didn't do what?" - -<p>"Give you the——" - -<p>"Never mind what you didn't do—come out of that! What makes you all act -so? What have I done?" - -<p>"You? Why you haven't done anything. But——" - -<p>"Well, then, what have you got against me? What do you all treat me so -for?" - -<p>"I—er—but haven't you got anything against us?" - -<p>"Of course not. What put such a thing into your head?" - -<p>"Honor bright—you haven't? - -<p>"Honor bright." - -<p>"Swear it!" - -<p>"I don't know what in the world you mean, but I swear it, anyway." - -<p>"And you'll shake hands with me?" - -<p>"Goodness knows I'll be glad to! Why, I'm just starving to shake hands -with somebody!" - -<p>The swimmer muttered, "Hang him, he smelt a rat and never delivered the -letter!—but it's all right, I'm not going to fetch up the subject." And -he crawled out and came dripping and draining to shake hands. First one -and then another of the conspirators showed up cautiously—armed to the -teeth—took in the amicable situation, then ventured warily forward and -joined the love-feast. - -<p>And to Ed's eager inquiry as to what made them act as they had been -acting, they answered evasively, and pretended that they had put it up as -a joke, to see what he would do. It was the best explanation they could -invent at such short notice. And each said to himself, "He never -delivered that letter, and the joke is on us, if he only knew it or we -were dull enough to come out and tell." - -<p>Then, of course, they wanted to know all about the trip; and he said— - -<p>"Come right up on the boiler deck and order the drinks—it's my treat. -I'm going to tell you all about it. And to-night it's my treat -again—and we'll have oysters and a time!" - -<p>When the drinks were brought and cigars lighted, Ed said: - -<p>"Well, when I delivered the letter to Mr. Vanderbilt——" - -<p>"Great Scott!" - -<p>"Gracious, how you scared me. What's the matter?" - -<p>"Oh—er—nothing. Nothing—it was a tack in the chair-seat," said one. - -<p>"But you all said it. However, no matter. When I delivered the -letter——" - -<p>"Did you deliver it?" And they looked at each other as people might who -thought that maybe they were dreaming. - -<p>Then they settled to listening; and as the story deepened and its marvels -grew, the amazement of it made them dumb, and the interest of it took -their breath. They hardly uttered a whisper during two hours, but sat -like petrifactions and drank in the immortal romance. At last the tale -was ended, and Ed said— - -<p>"And it's all owing to you, boys, and you'll never find me -ungrateful—bless your hearts, the best friends a fellow ever had! You'll all have -places; I want every one of you. I know you—I know you 'by the back,' -as the gamblers say. You're jokers, and all that, but you're sterling, -with the hallmark on. And Charley Fairchild, you shall be my first -assistant and right hand, because of your first-class ability, and -because you got me the letter, and for your father's sake who wrote it -for me, and to please Mr. Vanderbilt, who said it would! And here's to -that great man—drink hearty!" - -<p>Yes, when the Moment comes, the Man appears—even if he is a thousand -miles away, and has to be discovered by a practical joke. - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch29"></a><br><br>CHAPTER XXVIX.</h2> - -<p><i>When people do not respect us we are sharply offended; yet deep down in -his private heart no man much respects himself.</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>Necessarily, the human interest is the first interest in the log-book of -any country. The annals of Tasmania, in whose shadow we were sailing, -are lurid with that feature. Tasmania was a convict-dump, in old times; -this has been indicated in the account of the Conciliator, where -reference is made to vain attempts of desperate convicts to win to -permanent freedom, after escaping from Macquarrie Harbor and the "Gates -of Hell." In the early days Tasmania had a great population of convicts, -of both sexes and all ages, and a bitter hard life they had. In one spot -there was a settlement of juvenile convicts—children—who had been sent -thither from their home and their friends on the other side of the globe -to expiate their "crimes." - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p278.jpg (64K)" src="images/p278.jpg" height="1053" width="611"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>In due course our ship entered the estuary called the Derwent, at whose -head stands Hobart, the capital of Tasmania. The Derwent's shores -furnish scenery of an interesting sort. The historian Laurie, whose -book, "The Story of Australasia," is just out, invoices its features with -considerable truth and intemperance: "The marvelous picturesqueness of -every point of view, combined with the clear balmy atmosphere and the -transparency of the ocean depths, must have delighted and deeply -impressed" the early explorers. "If the rock-bound coasts, sullen, -defiant, and lowering, seemed uninviting, these were occasionally broken -into charmingly alluring coves floored with golden sand, clad with -evergreen shrubbery, and adorned with every variety of indigenous wattle, -she-oak, wild flower, and fern, from the delicately graceful -'maiden-hair' to the palm-like 'old man'; while the majestic gum-tree, clean and -smooth as the mast of 'some tall ammiral' pierces the clear air to the -height of 230 feet or more." - -<p>It looked so to me. "Coasting along Tasman's Peninsula, what a shock of -pleasant wonder must have struck the early mariner on suddenly sighting -Cape Pillar, with its cluster of black-ribbed basaltic columns rising to -a height of 900 feet, the hydra head wreathed in a turban of fleecy -cloud, the base lashed by jealous waves spouting angry fountains of -foam." - -<p>That is well enough, but I did not suppose those snags were 900 feet -high. Still they were a very fine show. They stood boldly out by -themselves, and made a fascinatingly odd spectacle. But there was -nothing about their appearance to suggest the heads of a hydra. They -looked like a row of lofty slabs with their upper ends tapered to the -shape of a carving-knife point; in fact, the early voyager, ignorant of -their great height, might have mistaken them for a rusty old rank of -piles that had sagged this way and that out of the perpendicular. - -<p>The Peninsula is lofty, rocky, and densely clothed with scrub, or brush, -or both. It is joined to the main by a low neck. At this junction was -formerly a convict station called Port Arthur—a place hard to escape -from. Behind it was the wilderness of scrub, in which a fugitive would -soon starve; in front was the narrow neck, with a cordon of chained dogs -across it, and a line of lanterns, and a fence of living guards, armed. -We saw the place as we swept by—that is, we had a glimpse of what we -were told was the entrance to Port Arthur. The glimpse was worth -something, as a remembrancer, but that was all. - -<p>The voyage thence up the Derwent Frith displays a grand succession of -fairy visions, in its entire length elsewhere unequaled. In gliding over -the deep blue sea studded with lovely islets luxuriant to the water's -edge, one is at a loss which scene to choose for contemplation and to -admire most. When the Huon and Bruni have been passed, there seems no -possible chance of a rival; but suddenly Mount Wellington, massive and -noble like his brother Etna, literally heaves in sight, sternly guarded -on either hand by Mounts Nelson and Rumney; presently we arrive at -Sullivan's Cove—Hobart! - -<p>It is an attractive town. It sits on low hills that slope to the -harbor—a harbor that looks like a river, and is as smooth as one. Its still -surface is pictured with dainty reflections of boats and grassy banks and -luxuriant foliage. Back of the town rise highlands that are clothed in -woodland loveliness, and over the way is that noble mountain, Wellington, -a stately bulk, a most majestic pile. How beautiful is the whole region, -for form, and grouping, and opulence, and freshness of foliage, and -variety of color, and grace and shapeliness of the hills, the capes, the -promontories; and then, the splendor of the sunlight, the dim rich -distances, the charm of the water-glimpses! And it was in this paradise -that the yellow-liveried convicts were landed, and the Corps-bandits -quartered, and the wanton slaughter of the kangaroo-chasing black -innocents consummated on that autumn day in May, in the brutish old time. -It was all out of keeping with the place, a sort of bringing of heaven -and hell together. - -<p>The remembrance of this paradise reminds me that it was at Hobart that we -struck the head of the procession of Junior Englands. We were to -encounter other sections of it in New Zealand, presently, and others -later in Natal. Wherever the exiled Englishman can find in his new home -resemblances to his old one, he is touched to the marrow of his being; -the love that is in his heart inspires his imagination, and these allied -forces transfigure those resemblances into authentic duplicates of the -revered originals. It is beautiful, the feeling which works this -enchantment, and it compels one's homage; compels it, and also compels -one's assent—compels it always—even when, as happens sometimes, one -does not see the resemblances as clearly as does the exile who is -pointing them out. - -<p>The resemblances do exist, it is quite true; and often they cunningly -approximate the originals—but after all, in the matter of certain -physical patent rights there is only one England. Now that I have -sampled the globe, I am not in doubt. There is a beauty of Switzerland, -and it is repeated in the glaciers and snowy ranges of many parts of the -earth; there is a beauty of the fiord, and it is repeated in New Zealand -and Alaska; there is a beauty of Hawaii, and it is repeated in ten -thousand islands of the Southern seas; there is a beauty of the prairie -and the plain, and it is repeated here and there in the earth; each of -these is worshipful, each is perfect in its way, yet holds no monopoly of -its beauty; but that beauty which is England is alone—it has no -duplicate. - -<p>It is made up of very simple details—just grass, and trees, and shrubs, -and roads, and hedges, and gardens, and houses, and vines, and churches, -and castles, and here and there a ruin—and over it all a mellow -dream-haze of history. But its beauty is incomparable, and all its own. - -<p>Hobart has a peculiarity—it is the neatest town that the sun shines on; -and I incline to believe that it is also the cleanest. However that may -be, its supremacy in neatness is not to be questioned. There cannot be -another town in the world that has no shabby exteriors; no rickety gates -and fences, no neglected houses crumbling to ruin, no crazy and unsightly -sheds, no weed-grown front-yards of the poor, no back-yards littered with -tin cans and old boots and empty bottles, no rubbish in the gutters, no -clutter on the sidewalks, no outer-borders fraying out into dirty lanes -and tin-patched huts. No, in Hobart all the aspects are tidy, and all a -comfort to the eye; the modestest cottage looks combed and brushed, and -has its vines, its flowers, its neat fence, its neat gate, its comely cat -asleep on the window ledge. - -<p>We had a glimpse of the museum, by courtesy of the American gentleman who -is curator of it. It has samples of half-a-dozen different kinds of -marsupials—[A marsupial is a plantigrade vertebrate whose specialty is -its pocket. In some countries it is extinct, in the others it is rare. -The first American marsupials were Stephen Girard, Mr. Astor and the -opossum; the principal marsupials of the Southern Hemisphere are Mr. -Rhodes, and the kangaroo. I, myself, am the latest marsupial. Also, I -might boast that I have the largest pocket of them all. But there is -nothing in that.]—one, the "Tasmanian devil;" that is, I think he was -one of them. And there was a fish with lungs. When the water dries up -it can live in the mud. Most curious of all was a parrot that kills -sheep. On one great sheep-run this bird killed a thousand sheep in a -whole year. He doesn't want the whole sheep, but only the kidney-fat. -This restricted taste makes him an expensive bird to support. To get the -fat he drives his beak in and rips it out; the wound is mortal. This -parrot furnishes a notable example of evolution brought about by changed -conditions. When the sheep culture was introduced, it presently brought -famine to the parrot by exterminating a kind of grub which had always -thitherto been the parrot's diet. The miseries of hunger made the bird -willing to eat raw flesh, since it could get no other food, and it began -to pick remnants of meat from sheep skins hung out on the fences to dry. -It soon came to prefer sheep meat to any other food, and by and by it -came to prefer the kidney-fat to any other detail of the sheep. The -parrot's bill was not well shaped for digging out the fat, but Nature -fixed that matter; she altered the bill's shape, and now the parrot can -dig out kidney-fat better than the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, or -anybody else, for that matter—even an Admiral. - -<p>And there was another curiosity—quite a stunning one, I thought: -Arrow-heads and knives just like those which Primeval Man made out of flint, -and thought he had done such a wonderful thing—yes, and has been humored -and coddled in that superstition by this age of admiring scientists until -there is probably no living with him in the other world by now. Yet here -is his finest and nicest work exactly duplicated in our day; and by -people who have never heard of him or his works: by aborigines who lived -in the islands of these seas, within our time. And they not only -duplicated those works of art but did it in the brittlest and most -treacherous of substances—glass: made them out of old brandy bottles -flung out of the British camps; millions of tons of them. It is time for -Primeval Man to make a little less noise, now. He has had his day. He -is not what he used to be. We had a drive through a bloomy and odorous -fairy-land, to the Refuge for the Indigent—a spacious and comfortable -home, with hospitals, etc., for both sexes. There was a crowd in there, -of the oldest people I have ever seen. It was like being suddenly set -down in a new world—a weird world where Youth has never been, a world -sacred to Age, and bowed forms, and wrinkles. Out of the 359 persons -present, 223 were ex-convicts, and could have told stirring tales, no -doubt, if they had been minded to talk; 42 of the 359 were past 80, and -several were close upon 90; the average age at death there is 76 years. -As for me, I have no use for that place; it is too healthy. Seventy is -old enough—after that, there is too much risk. Youth and gaiety might -vanish, any day—and then, what is left? Death in life; death without -its privileges, death without its benefits. There were 185 women in that -Refuge, and 81 of them were ex-convicts. - -<p>The steamer disappointed us. Instead of making a long visit at Hobart, -as usual, she made a short one. So we got but a glimpse of Tasmania, and -then moved on. - - - -<br><br> -<br><br> - -<center> -<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> -<tr><td> - <a href="p2.htm">Previous Part</a> -</td><td> - <a href="2895-h.htm">Main Index</a> -</td><td> - <a href="p4.htm">Next Part</a> - -</td></tr> -</table> -</center> - -</body> -</html> - |