diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/orig2895-h/p2.htm')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/orig2895-h/p2.htm | 2642 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 2642 deletions
diff --git a/old/orig2895-h/p2.htm b/old/orig2895-h/p2.htm deleted file mode 100644 index dd41ea1..0000000 --- a/old/orig2895-h/p2.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2642 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> -<html> -<head> -<title>FOLLOWING THE EQUATOR, Part 2</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="p1.htm">Previous Part</a> -</td><td> - <a href="2895-h.htm">Main Index</a> -</td><td> - <a href="p3.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 2.</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> - - - -<br><br><br><br> - - <center><h2>CONTENTS OF PART 2.</h2></center> - -<blockquote><blockquote><blockquote><blockquote> -<br> -<h3><a href="#ch9">CHAPTER IX.</a></h3> -<p> -Close to Australia—Porpoises at Night—Entrance to Sydney Harbor—The -Loss of the Duncan Dunbar—The Harbor—The City of Sydney—Spring-time in -Australia—The Climate—Information for Travelers—The Size of -Australia—A Dust-Storm and Hot Wind - -<br><br><br> -<h3><a href="#ch10">CHAPTER X.</a></h3> -<p> -The Discovery of Australia—Transportation of -Convicts—Discipline—English Laws, Ancient and Modern—Flogging Prisoners to Death—Arrival of -Settlers—New South Wales Corps—Rum Currency—Intemperance Everywhere—$100,000 for One Gallon of Rum—Development of the Country—Immense -Resources - -<br><br><br> -<h3><a href="#ch11">CHAPTER XI.</a></h3> -<p> -Hospitality of English-speaking People—Writers and their Gratitude—Mr. -Gane and the Panegyrics—Population of Sydney An English City with -American Trimming—"Squatters"—Palaces and Sheep Kingdoms—Wool and -Mutton—Australians and Americans—Costermonger Pronunciation—England is -"Home"—Table Talk—English and Colonial Audiences - -<br><br><br> -<h3><a href="#ch12">CHAPTER XII.</a></h3> -<p> -Mr. X., a Missionary—Why Christianity Makes Slow Progress in India—A -Large Dream—Hindoo Miracles and Legends—Sampson and Hanuman—The -Sandstone Ridge—Where are the Gates? - -<br><br><br> -<h3><a href="#ch13">CHAPTER XIII.</a></h3> -<p> -Public Works in Australasia—Botanical Garden of Sydney—Four Special -Socialties—The Government House—A Governor and His Functions—The -Admiralty House—The Tour of the Harbor—Shark Fishing—Cecil Rhodes' -Shark and his First Fortune—Free Board for Sharks. - -<br><br><br> -<h3><a href="#ch14">CHAPTER XIV.</a></h3> -<p> -Bad Health—To Melbourne by Rail—Maps Defective—The Colony of -Victoria—A Round-trip Ticket from Sydney—Change Cars, from Wide to Narrow -Gauge, a Peculiarity at Albury—Customs-fences—"My Word"—The Blue -Mountains—Rabbit Piles—Government R. R. Restaurants—Duchesses for -Waiters—"Sheep-dip"—Railroad Coffee—Things Seen and Not Seen - -<br><br><br> -<h3><a href="#ch15">CHAPTER XV.</a></h3> -<p> -Wagga-Wagga—The Tichborne Claimant—A Stock Mystery—The Plan of the -Romance—The Realization—The Henry Bascom Mystery—Bascom Hall—The -Author's Death and Funeral - -<br><br><br> -<h3><a href="#ch16">CHAPTER XVI.</a></h3> -<p> -Melbourne and its Attractions—The Melbourne Cup Races—Cup Day—Great -Crowds—Clothes Regardless of Cost—The Australian Larrikin—Is He Dead?—Australian Hospitality—Melbourne Wool-brokers—The Museums—The -Palaces—The Origin of Melbourne - -<br><br><br> -<h3><a href="#ch17">CHAPTER XVII.</a></h3> -<p> -The British Empire—Its Exports and Imports—The Trade of Australia—To -Adelaide—Broken Hill Silver Mine—A Roundabout road—The Scrub and its -Possibilities for the Novelist—The Aboriginal Tracker—A Test Case—How -Does One Cow-Track Differ from Another? - -<br><br><br> -<h3><a href="#ch18">CHAPTER XVIII.</a></h3> -<p> -The Gum Trees—Unsociable Trees—Gorse and Broom—A universal Defect—An -Adventurer—Wanted L200, got L20,000,000—A Vast Land Scheme—The -Smash-up—The Corpse Got Up and Danced—A Unique Business by One -Man—Buying the Kangaroo Skin—The Approach to Adelaide—Everything Comes to -Him who Waits—A Healthy Religious sphere—What is the Matter with the -Specter? - -<br><br><br> -<h3><a href="#ch19">CHAPTER XIX.</a></h3> -<p> -The Botanical Gardens—Contributions from all Countries—The -Zoological Gardens of Adelaide—The Laughing Jackass—The Dingo—A -Misnamed Province—Telegraphing from Melbourne to San Francisco—A Mania -for Holidays—The Temperature—The Death Rate—Celebration of the -Reading of the Proclamation of 1836—Some old Settlers at the -Commemoration—Their Staying Powers—The Intelligence of the -Aboriginal—The Antiquity of the Boomerang -</blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote> -<br><hr> -<br> - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch9"></a><br><br>CHAPTER IX.</h2> - -<p><i>It is your human environment that makes climate.</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>Sept. 15—Night. Close to Australia now. Sydney 50 miles distant. - -<p>That note recalls an experience. The passengers were sent for, to come -up in the bow and see a fine sight. It was very dark. One could not -follow with the eye the surface of the sea more than fifty yards in any -direction it dimmed away and became lost to sight at about that distance -from us. But if you patiently gazed into the darkness a little while, -there was a sure reward for you. Presently, a quarter of a mile away you -would see a blinding splash or explosion of light on the water—a flash -so sudden and so astonishingly brilliant that it would make you catch -your breath; then that blotch of light would instantly extend itself and -take the corkscrew shape and imposing length of the fabled sea-serpent, -with every curve of its body and the "break" spreading away from its -head, and the wake following behind its tail clothed in a fierce splendor -of living fire. And my, but it was coming at a lightning gait! Almost -before you could think, this monster of light, fifty feet long, would go -flaming and storming by, and suddenly disappear. And out in the distance -whence he came you would see another flash; and another and another and -another, and see them turn into sea-serpents on the instant; and once -sixteen flashed up at the same time and came tearing towards us, a swarm -of wiggling curves, a moving conflagration, a vision of bewildering -beauty, a spectacle of fire and energy whose equal the most of those -people will not see again until after they are dead. - -<p>It was porpoises—porpoises aglow with phosphorescent light. They -presently collected in a wild and magnificent jumble under the bows, and -there they played for an hour, leaping and frollicking and carrying on, -turning summersaults in front of the stem or across it and never getting -hit, never making a miscalculation, though the stem missed them only -about an inch, as a rule. They were porpoises of the ordinary -length—eight or ten feet—but every twist of their bodies sent a long procession -of united and glowing curves astern. That fiery jumble was an enchanting -thing to look at, and we stayed out the performance; one cannot have such -a show as that twice in a lifetime. The porpoise is the kitten of the -sea; he never has a serious thought, he cares for nothing but fun and -play. But I think I never saw him at his winsomest until that night. -It was near a center of civilization, and he could have been drinking. - -<p>By and by, when we had approached to somewhere within thirty miles of -Sydney Heads the great electric light that is posted on one of those -lofty ramparts began to show, and in time the little spark grew to a -great sun and pierced the firmament of darkness with a far-reaching sword -of light. - -<p>Sydney Harbor is shut in behind a precipice that extends some miles like -a wall, and exhibits no break to the ignorant stranger. It has a break -in the middle, but it makes so little show that even Captain Cook sailed -by it without seeing it. Near by that break is a false break which -resembles it, and which used to make trouble for the mariner at night, in -the early days before the place was lighted. It caused the memorable -disaster to the Duncan Dunbar, one of the most pathetic tragedies in the -history of that pitiless ruffian, the sea. The ship was a sailing -vessel; a fine and favorite passenger packet, commanded by a popular -captain of high reputation. She was due from England, and Sydney was -waiting, and counting the hours; counting the hours, and making ready to -give her a heart-stirring welcome; for she was bringing back a great -company of mothers and daughters, the long-missed light and bloom of life -of Sydney homes; daughters that had been years absent at school, and -mothers that had been with them all that time watching over them. Of all -the world only India and Australasia have by custom freighted ships and -fleets with their hearts, and know the tremendous meaning of that phrase; -only they know what the waiting is like when this freightage is entrusted -to the fickle winds, not steam, and what the joy is like when the ship -that is returning this treasure comes safe to port and the long dread is -over. - -<p>On board the Duncan Dunbar, flying toward Sydney Heads in the waning -afternoon, the happy home-comers made busy preparation, for it was not -doubted that they would be in the arms of their friends before the day -was done; they put away their sea-going clothes and put on clothes meeter -for the meeting, their richest and their loveliest, these poor brides of -the grave. But the wind lost force, or there was a miscalculation, and -before the Heads were sighted the darkness came on. It was said that -ordinarily the captain would have made a safe offing and waited for the -morning; but this was no ordinary occasion; all about him were appealing -faces, faces pathetic with disappointment. So his sympathy moved him to -try the dangerous passage in the dark. He had entered the Heads -seventeen times, and believed he knew the ground. So he steered straight -for the false opening, mistaking it for the true one. He did not find -out that he was wrong until it was too late. There was no saving the -ship. The great seas swept her in and crushed her to splinters and -rubbish upon the rock tushes at the base of the precipice. Not one of -all that fair and gracious company was ever seen again alive. The tale -is told to every stranger that passes the spot, and it will continue to -be told to all that come, for generations; but it will never grow old, -custom cannot stale it, the heart-break that is in it can never perish -out of it. - -<p>There were two hundred persons in the ship, and but one survived the -disaster. He was a sailor. A huge sea flung him up the face of the -precipice and stretched him on a narrow shelf of rock midway between the -top and the bottom, and there he lay all night. At any other time he -would have lain there for the rest of his life, without chance of -discovery; but the next morning the ghastly news swept through Sydney -that the Duncan Dunbar had gone down in sight of home, and straightway -the walls of the Heads were black with mourners; and one of these, -stretching himself out over the precipice to spy out what might be seen -below, discovered this miraculously preserved relic of the wreck. Ropes -were brought and the nearly impossible feat of rescuing the man was -accomplished. He was a person with a practical turn of mind, and he -hired a hall in Sydney and exhibited himself at sixpence a head till he -exhausted the output of the gold fields for that year. - -<p>We entered and cast anchor, and in the morning went oh-ing and ah-ing in -admiration up through the crooks and turns of the spacious and beautiful -harbor—a harbor which is the darling of Sydney and the wonder of the -world. It is not surprising that the people are proud of it, nor that -they put their enthusiasm into eloquent words. A returning citizen asked -me what I thought of it, and I testified with a cordiality which I judged -would be up to the market rate. I said it was beautiful—superbly -beautiful. Then by a natural impulse I gave God the praise. The citizen -did not seem altogether satisfied. He said: - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p113.jpg (13K)" src="images/p113.jpg" height="384" width="476"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>"It is beautiful, of course it's beautiful—the Harbor; but that isn't -all of it, it's only half of it; Sydney's the other half, and it takes -both of them together to ring the supremacy-bell. God made the Harbor, -and that's all right; but Satan made Sydney." - -<p>Of course I made an apology; and asked him to convey it to his friend. -He was right about Sydney being half of it. It would be beautiful -without Sydney, but not above half as beautiful as it is now, with Sydney -added. It is shaped somewhat like an oak-leaf—a roomy sheet of lovely -blue water, with narrow off-shoots of water running up into the country -on both sides between long fingers of land, high wooden ridges with sides -sloped like graves. Handsome villas are perched here and there on these -ridges, snuggling amongst the foliage, and one catches alluring glimpses -of them as the ship swims by toward the city. The city clothes a cluster -of hills and a ruffle of neighboring ridges with its undulating masses of -masonry, and out of these masses spring towers and spires and other -architectural dignities and grandeurs that break the flowing lines and -give picturesqueness to the general effect. - -<p>The narrow inlets which I have mentioned go wandering out into the land -everywhere and hiding themselves in it, and pleasure-launches are always -exploring them with picnic parties on board. It is said by trustworthy -people that if you explore them all you will find that you have covered -700 miles of water passage. But there are liars everywhere this year, -and they will double that when their works are in good going order. -October was close at hand, spring was come. It was really -spring—everybody said so; but you could have sold it for summer in Canada, and -nobody would have suspected. It was the very weather that makes our home -summers the perfection of climatic luxury; I mean, when you are out in -the wood or by the sea. But these people said it was cool, now—a person -ought to see Sydney in the summer time if he wanted to know what warm -weather is; and he ought to go north ten or fifteen hundred miles if he -wanted to know what hot weather is. They said that away up there toward -the equator the hens laid fried eggs. Sydney is the place to go to get -information about other people's climates. It seems to me that the -occupation of Unbiased Traveler Seeking Information is the pleasantest -and most irresponsible trade there is. The traveler can always find out -anything he wants to, merely by asking. He can get at all the facts, and -more. Everybody helps him, nobody hinders him. Anybody who has an old -fact in stock that is no longer negotiable in the domestic market will -let him have it at his own price. An accumulation of such goods is -easily and quickly made. They cost almost nothing and they bring par in -the foreign market. Travelers who come to America always freight up with -the same old nursery tales that their predecessors selected, and they -carry them back and always work them off without any trouble in the home -market. - -<p>If the climates of the world were determined by parallels of latitude, -then we could know a place's climate by its position on the map; and so -we should know that the climate of Sydney was the counterpart of the -climate of Columbia, S. C., and of Little Rock, Arkansas, since Sydney is -about the same distance south of the equator that those other towns are -north of it—thirty-four degrees. But no, climate disregards the -parallels of latitude. In Arkansas they have a winter; in Sydney they -have the name of it, but not the thing itself. I have seen the ice in -the Mississippi floating past the mouth of the Arkansas river; and at -Memphis, but a little way above, the Mississippi has been frozen over, -from bank to bank. But they have never had a cold spell in Sydney which -brought the mercury down to freezing point. Once in a mid-winter day -there, in the month of July, the mercury went down to 36 deg., and that -remains the memorable "cold day" in the history of the town. No doubt -Little Rock has seen it below zero. Once, in Sydney, in mid-summer, -about New Year's Day, the mercury went up to 106 deg. in the shade, and -that is Sydney's memorable hot day. That would about tally with Little -Rock's hottest day also, I imagine. My Sydney figures are taken from a -government report, and are trustworthy. In the matter of summer weather -Arkansas has no advantage over Sydney, perhaps, but when it comes to -winter weather, that is another affair. You could cut up an Arkansas -winter into a hundred Sydney winters and have enough left for Arkansas -and the poor. - -<p>The whole narrow, hilly belt of the Pacific side of New South Wales has -the climate of its capital—a mean winter temperature of 54 deg. and a -mean summer one of 71 deg. It is a climate which cannot be improved upon -for healthfulness. But the experts say that 90 deg. in New South Wales -is harder to bear than 112 deg. in the neighboring colony of Victoria, -because the atmosphere of the former is humid, and of the latter dry. -The mean temperature of the southernmost point of New South Wales is the -same as that of Nice—60 deg.—yet Nice is further from the equator by -460 miles than is the former. - -<p>But Nature is always stingy of perfect climates; stingier in the case of -Australia than usual. Apparently this vast continent has a really good -climate nowhere but around the edges. - -<p>If we look at a map of the world we are surprised to see how big -Australia is. It is about two-thirds as large as the United States was -before we added Alaska. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p116.jpg (15K)" src="images/p116.jpg" height="211" width="623"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>But where as one finds a sufficiently good climate and fertile land -almost everywhere in the United States, it seems settled that inside of -the Australian border-belt one finds many deserts and in spots a climate -which nothing can stand except a few of the hardier kinds of rocks. In -effect, Australia is as yet unoccupied. If you take a map of the United -States and leave the Atlantic sea-board States in their places; also the -fringe of Southern States from Florida west to the Mouth of the -Mississippi; also a narrow, inhabited streak up the Mississippi half-way -to its head waters; also a narrow, inhabited border along the Pacific -coast: then take a brushful of paint and obliterate the whole remaining -mighty stretch of country that lies between the Atlantic States and the -Pacific-coast strip, your map will look like the latest map of Australia. - -<p>This stupendous blank is hot, not to say torrid; a part of it is fertile, -the rest is desert; it is not liberally watered; it has no towns. One -has only to cross the mountains of New South Wales and descend into the -westward-lying regions to find that he has left the choice climate behind -him, and found a new one of a quite different character. In fact, he -would not know by the thermometer that he was not in the blistering -Plains of India. Captain Sturt, the great explorer, gives us a sample of -the heat. -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "The wind, which had been blowing all the morning from the N.E., - increased to a heavy gale, and I shall never forget its withering - effect. I sought shelter behind a large gum-tree, but the blasts of - heat were so terrific that I wondered the very grass did not take - fire. This really was nothing ideal: everything both animate and - inanimate gave way before it; the horses stood with their backs to - the wind and their noses to the ground, without the muscular - strength to raise their heads; the birds were mute, and the leaves - of the trees under which we were sitting fell like a snow shower - around us. At noon I took a thermometer graded to 127 deg., out of - my box, and observed that the mercury was up to 125. Thinking that - it had been unduly influenced, I put it in the fork of a tree close - to me, sheltered alike from the wind and the sun. I went to examine - it about an hour afterwards, when I found the mercury had risen to - the-top of the instrument and had burst the bulb, a circumstance - that I believe no traveler has ever before had to record. I cannot - find language to convey to the reader's mind an idea of the intense - and oppressive nature of the heat that prevailed." -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<p>That hot wind sweeps over Sydney sometimes, and brings with it what is -called a "dust-storm." It is said that most Australian towns are -acquainted with the dust-storm. I think I know what it is like, for the -following description by Mr. Gape tallies very well with the alkali -duststorm of Nevada, if you leave out the "shovel" part. Still the -shovel part is a pretty important part, and seems to indicate that my -Nevada storm is but a poor thing, after all. - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "As we proceeded the altitude became less, and the heat - proportionately greater until we reached Dubbo, which is only 600 - feet above sea-level. It is a pretty town, built on an extensive - plain . . . . After the effects of a shower of rain have passed - away the surface of the ground crumbles into a thick layer of dust, - and occasionally, when the wind is in a particular quarter, it is - lifted bodily from the ground in one long opaque cloud. In the - midst of such a storm nothing can be seen a few yards ahead, and the - unlucky person who happens to be out at the time is compelled to - seek the nearest retreat at hand. When the thrifty housewife sees - in the distance the dark column advancing in a steady whirl towards - her house, she closes the doors and windows with all expedition. A - drawing-room, the window of which has been carelessly left open - during a dust-storm, is indeed an extraordinary sight. A lady who - has resided in Dubbo for some years says that the dust lies so thick - on the carpet that it is necessary to use a shovel to remove it." -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<p>And probably a wagon. I was mistaken; I have not seen a proper -duststorm. To my mind the exterior aspects and character of Australia -are fascinating things to look at and think about, they are so strange, -so weird, so new, so uncommonplace, such a startling and interesting -contrast to the other sections of the planet, the sections that are known -to us all, familiar to us all. In the matter of particulars—a detail -here, a detail there—we have had the choice climate of New South Wales' -seacoast; we have had the Australian heat as furnished by Captain Sturt; -we have had the wonderful dust-storm; and we have considered the -phenomenon of an almost empty hot wilderness half as big as the United -States, with a narrow belt of civilization, population, and good climate -around it. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p118.jpg (19K)" src="images/p118.jpg" height="362" width="371"> -</center> -<br><br> - - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch10"></a><br><br>CHAPTER X.</h2> - -<p><i>Everything human is pathetic. The secret source of Humor itself is not -joy but sorrow. There is no humor in heaven.</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>Captain Cook found Australia in 1770, and eighteen years later the -British Government began to transport convicts to it. Altogether, New -South Wales received 83,000 in 53 years. The convicts wore heavy chains; -they were ill-fed and badly treated by the officers set over them; they -were heavily punished for even slight infractions of the rules; "the -cruelest discipline ever known" is one historian's description of their -life.—[The Story of Australasia. J. S. Laurie.] - -<p>English law was hard-hearted in those days. For trifling offenses which -in our day would be punished by a small fine or a few days' confinement, -men, women, and boys were sent to this other end of the earth to serve -terms of seven and fourteen years; and for serious crimes they were -transported for life. Children were sent to the penal colonies for seven -years for stealing a rabbit! - -<p>When I was in London twenty-three years ago there was a new penalty in -force for diminishing garroting and wife-beating—25 lashes on the bare -back with the cat-o'-nine-tails. It was said that this terrible -punishment was able to bring the stubbornest ruffians to terms; and that -no man had been found with grit enough to keep his emotions to himself -beyond the ninth blow; as a rule the man shrieked earlier. That penalty -had a great and wholesome effect upon the garroters and wife-beaters; but -humane modern London could not endure it; it got its law rescinded. Many -a bruised and battered English wife has since had occasion to deplore -that cruel achievement of sentimental "humanity." - -<p>Twenty-five lashes! In Australia and Tasmania they gave a convict fifty -for almost any little offense; and sometimes a brutal officer would add -fifty, and then another fifty, and so on, as long as the sufferer could -endure the torture and live. In Tasmania I read the entry, in an old -manuscript official record, of a case where a convict was given three -hundred lashes—for stealing some silver spoons. And men got more than -that, sometimes. Who handled the cat? Often it was another convict; -sometimes it was the culprit's dearest comrade; and he had to lay on with -all his might; otherwise he would get a flogging himself for his -mercy—for he was under watch—and yet not do his friend any good: the friend -would be attended to by another hand and suffer no lack in the matter of -full punishment. - -<p>The convict life in Tasmania was so unendurable, and suicide so difficult -to accomplish that once or twice despairing men got together and drew -straws to determine which of them should kill another of the group—this -murder to secure death to the perpetrator and to the witnesses of it by -the hand of the hangman! - -<p>The incidents quoted above are mere hints, mere suggestions of what -convict life was like—they are but a couple of details tossed into view -out of a shoreless sea of such; or, to change the figure, they are but a -pair of flaming steeples photographed from a point which hides from sight -the burning city which stretches away from their bases on every hand. - -<p>Some of the convicts—indeed, a good many of them—were very bad people, -even for that day; but the most of them were probably not noticeably -worse than the average of the people they left behind them at home. We -must believe this; we cannot avoid it. We are obliged to believe that a -nation that could look on, unmoved, and see starving or freezing women -hanged for stealing twenty-six cents' worth of bacon or rags, and boys -snatched from their mothers, and men from their families, and sent to the -other side of the world for long terms of years for similar trifling -offenses, was a nation to whom the term "civilized" could not in any -large way be applied. And we must also believe that a nation that knew, -during more than forty years, what was happening to those exiles and was -still content with it, was not advancing in any showy way toward a higher -grade of civilization. - -<p>If we look into the characters and conduct of the officers and gentlemen -who had charge of the convicts and attended to their backs and stomachs, -we must grant again that as between the convict and his masters, and -between both and the nation at home, there was a quite noticeable -monotony of sameness. - -<p>Four years had gone by, and many convicts had come. Respectable settlers -were beginning to arrive. These two classes of colonists had to be -protected, in case of trouble among themselves or with the natives. It -is proper to mention the natives, though they could hardly count they -were so scarce. At a time when they had not as yet begun to be much -disturbed—not as yet being in the way—it was estimated that in New -South Wales there was but one native to 45,000 acres of territory. - -<p>People had to be protected. Officers of the regular army did not want -this service—away off there where neither honor nor distinction was to -be gained. So England recruited and officered a kind of militia force of -1,000 uniformed civilians called the "New South Wales Corps" and shipped -it. - -<p>This was the worst blow of all. The colony fairly staggered under it. -The Corps was an object-lesson of the moral condition of England outside -of the jails. The colonists trembled. It was feared that next there -would be an importation of the nobility. - -<p>In those early days the colony was non-supporting. All the necessaries -of life—food, clothing, and all—were sent out from England, and kept in -great government store-houses, and given to the convicts and sold to the -settlers—sold at a trifling advance upon cost. The Corps saw its -opportunity. Its officers went into commerce, and in a most lawless way. -They went to importing rum, and also to manufacturing it in private -stills, in defiance of the government's commands and protests. They -leagued themselves together and ruled the market; they boycotted the -government and the other dealers; they established a close monopoly and -kept it strictly in their own hands. When a vessel arrived with spirits, -they allowed nobody to buy but themselves, and they forced the owner to -sell to them at a price named by themselves—and it was always low -enough. They bought rum at an average of two dollars a gallon and sold -it at an average of ten. They made rum the currency of the country—for -there was little or no money—and they maintained their devastating hold -and kept the colony under their heel for eighteen or twenty years before -they were finally conquered and routed by the government. - -<p>Meantime, they had spread intemperance everywhere. And they had squeezed -farm after farm out of the settlers hands for rum, and thus had -bountifully enriched themselves. When a farmer was caught in the last -agonies of thirst they took advantage of him and sweated him for a drink. -In one instance they sold a man a gallon of rum worth two dollars for a -piece of property which was sold some years later for $100,000. -When the colony was about eighteen or twenty years old it was discovered -that the land was specially fitted for the wool-culture. Prosperity -followed, commerce with the world began, by and by rich mines of the -noble metals were opened, immigrants flowed in, capital likewise. The -result is the great and wealthy and enlightened commonwealth of New South -Wales. - -<p>It is a country that is rich in mines, wool ranches, trams, railways, -steamship lines, schools, newspapers, botanical gardens, art galleries, -libraries, museums, hospitals, learned societies; it is the hospitable -home of every species of culture and of every species of material -enterprise, and there is a, church at every man's door, and a race-track -over the way. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p123.jpg (23K)" src="images/p123.jpg" height="439" width="401"> -</center> -<br><br> - - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch11"></a><br><br>CHAPTER XI.</h2> - -<p><i>We should be careful to get out of an experience only the wisdom that is -in it—and stop there; lest we be like the cat that sits down on a hot -stove-lid. She will never sit down on a hot stove-lid again—and that is -well; but also she will never sit down on a cold one any more.</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>All English-speaking colonies are made up of lavishly hospitable people, -and New South Wales and its capital are like the rest in this. The -English-speaking colony of the United States of America is always called -lavishly hospitable by the English traveler. As to the other -English-speaking colonies throughout the world from Canada all around, I know by -experience that the description fits them. I will not go more -particularly into this matter, for I find that when writers try to -distribute their gratitude here and there and yonder by detail they run -across difficulties and do some ungraceful stumbling. - -<p>Mr. Gape ("New South Wales and Victoria in 1885 "), tried to distribute -his gratitude, and was not lucky: - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "The inhabitants of Sydney are renowned for their hospitality. The - treatment which we experienced at the hands of this generous-hearted - people will help more than anything else to make us recollect with - pleasure our stay amongst them. In the character of hosts and - hostesses they excel. The 'new chum' needs only the - acquaintanceship of one of their number, and he becomes at once the - happy recipient of numerous complimentary invitations and thoughtful - kindnesses. Of the towns it has been our good fortune to visit, - none have portrayed home so faithfully as Sydney." -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<p>Nobody could say it finer than that. If he had put in his cork then, and -stayed away from Dubbo——but no; heedless man, he pulled it again. -Pulled it when he was away along in his book, and his memory of what he -had said about Sydney had grown dim: - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p125.jpg (7K)" src="images/p125.jpg" height="347" width="208"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "We cannot quit the promising town of Dubbo without testifying, in - warm praise, to the kind-hearted and hospitable usages of its - inhabitants. Sydney, though well deserving the character it bears - of its kindly treatment of strangers, possesses a little formality - and reserve. In Dubbo, on the contrary, though the same congenial - manners prevail, there is a pleasing degree of respectful - familiarity which gives the town a homely comfort not often met with - elsewhere. In laying on one side our pen we feel contented in - having been able, though so late in this work, to bestow a - panegyric, however unpretentious, on a town which, though possessing - no picturesque natural surroundings, nor interesting architectural - productions, has yet a body of citizens whose hearts cannot but - obtain for their town a reputation for benevolence and kind-heartedness." -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<p>I wonder what soured him on Sydney. It seems strange that a pleasing -degree of three or four fingers of respectful familiarity should fill a -man up and give him the panegyrics so bad. For he has them, the worst -way—any one can see that. A man who is perfectly at himself does not -throw cold detraction at people's architectural productions and -picturesque surroundings, and let on that what he prefers is a Dubbonese -dust-storm and a pleasing degree of respectful familiarity. No, these are -old, old symptoms; and when they appear we know that the man has got the -panegyrics. - -<p>Sydney has a population of 400,000. When a stranger from America steps -ashore there, the first thing that strikes him is that the place is eight -or nine times as large as he was expecting it to be; and the next thing -that strikes him is that it is an English city with American trimmings. -Later on, in Melbourne, he will find the American trimmings still more in -evidence; there, even the architecture will often suggest America; a -photograph of its stateliest business street might be passed upon him for -a picture of the finest street in a large American city. I was told that -the most of the fine residences were the city residences of squatters. -The name seemed out of focus somehow. When the explanation came, it -offered a new instance of the curious changes which words, as well as -animals, undergo through change of habitat and climate. With us, when -you speak of a squatter you are always supposed to be speaking of a poor -man, but in Australia when you speak of a squatter you are supposed to be -speaking of a millionaire; in America the word indicates the possessor of -a few acres and a doubtful title, in Australia it indicates a man whose -landfront is as long as a railroad, and whose title has been perfected in -one way or another; in America the word indicates a man who owns a dozen -head of live stock, in Australia a man who owns anywhere from fifty -thousand up to half a million head; in America the word indicates a man -who is obscure and not important, in Australia a man who is prominent and -of the first importance; in America you take off your hat to no squatter, -in Australia you do; in America if your uncle is a squatter you keep it -dark, in Australia you advertise it; in America if your friend is a -squatter nothing comes of it, but with a squatter for your friend in -Australia you may sup with kings if there are any around. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p127.jpg (27K)" src="images/p127.jpg" height="491" width="623"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>In Australia it takes about two acres and a half of pastureland (some -people say twice as many), to support a sheep; and when the squatter has -half a million sheep his private domain is about as large as Rhode -Island, to speak in general terms. His annual wool crop may be worth a -quarter or a half million dollars. - -<p>He will live in a palace in Melbourne or Sydney or some other of the -large cities, and make occasional trips to his sheep-kingdom several -hundred miles away in the great plains to look after his battalions of -riders and shepherds and other hands. He has a commodious dwelling out -there, and if he approve of you he will invite you to spend a week in it, -and will make you at home and comfortable, and let you see the great -industry in all its details, and feed you and slake you and smoke you -with the best that money can buy. - -<p>On at least one of these vast estates there is a considerable town, with -all the various businesses and occupations that go to make an important -town; and the town and the land it stands upon are the property of the -squatters. I have seen that town, and it is not unlikely that there are -other squatter-owned towns in Australia. - -<p>Australia supplies the world not only with fine wool, but with mutton -also. The modern invention of cold storage and its application in ships -has created this great trade. In Sydney I visited a huge establishment -where they kill and clean and solidly freeze a thousand sheep a day, for -shipment to England. - -<p>The Australians did not seem to me to differ noticeably from Americans, -either in dress, carriage, ways, pronunciation, inflections, or general -appearance. There were fleeting and subtle suggestions of their English -origin, but these were not pronounced enough, as a rule, to catch one's -attention. The people have easy and cordial manners from the -beginning—from the moment that the introduction is completed. This is American. -To put it in another way, it is English friendliness with the English -shyness and self-consciousness left out. - -<p>Now and then—but this is rare—one hears such words as piper for paper, -lydy for lady, and tyble for table fall from lips whence one would not -expect such pronunciations to come. There is a superstition prevalent in -Sydney that this pronunciation is an Australianism, but people who have -been "home"—as the native reverently and lovingly calls England—know -better. It is "costermonger." All over Australasia this pronunciation -is nearly as common among servants as it is in London among the -uneducated and the partially educated of all sorts and conditions of -people. That mislaid 'y' is rather striking when a person gets enough of -it into a short sentence to enable it to show up. In the hotel in Sydney -the chambermaid said, one morning: - -<p>"The tyble is set, and here is the piper; and if the lydy is ready I'll -tell the wyter to bring up the breakfast." - -<p>I have made passing mention, a moment ago, of the native Australasian's -custom of speaking of England as "home." It was always pretty to hear -it, and often it was said in an unconsciously caressing way that made it -touching; in a way which transmuted a sentiment into an embodiment, and -made one seem to see Australasia as a young girl stroking mother -England's old gray head. - -<p>In the Australasian home the table-talk is vivacious and unembarrassed; -it is without stiffness or restraint. This does not remind one of -England so much as it does of America. But Australasia is strictly -democratic, and reserves and restraints are things that are bred by -differences of rank. - -<p>English and colonial audiences are phenomenally alert and responsive. -Where masses of people are gathered together in England, caste is -submerged, and with it the English reserve; equality exists for the -moment, and every individual is free; so free from any consciousness of -fetters, indeed, that the Englishman's habit of watching himself and -guarding himself against any injudicious exposure of his feelings is -forgotten, and falls into abeyance—and to such a degree indeed, that he -will bravely applaud all by himself if he wants to—an exhibition of -daring which is unusual elsewhere in the world. - -<p>But it is hard to move a new English acquaintance when he is by himself, -or when the company present is small and new to him. He is on his guard -then, and his natural reserve is to the fore. This has given him the -false reputation of being without humor and without the appreciation of -humor. - -<p>Americans are not Englishmen, and American humor is not English humor; -but both the American and his humor had their origin in England, and have -merely undergone changes brought about by changed conditions and a new -environment. About the best humorous speeches I have yet heard were a -couple that were made in Australia at club suppers—one of them by an -Englishman, the other by an Australian. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p131.jpg (9K)" src="images/p131.jpg" height="270" width="411"> -</center> -<br><br> - - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch12"></a><br><br>CHAPTER XII.</h2> - -<p><i>There are those who scoff at the schoolboy, calling him frivolous and -shallow: Yet it was the schoolboy who said "Faith is believing what you -know ain't so."</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>In Sydney I had a large dream, and in the course of talk I told it to a -missionary from India who was on his way to visit some relatives in New -Zealand. I dreamed that the visible universe is the physical person of -God; that the vast worlds that we see twinkling millions of miles apart -in the fields of space are the blood corpuscles in His veins; and that we -and the other creatures are the microbes that charge with multitudinous -life the corpuscles. - -<p>Mr. X., the missionary, considered the dream awhile, then said: - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "It is not surpassable for magnitude, since its metes and bounds are - the metes and bounds of the universe itself; and it seems to me that - it almost accounts for a thing which is otherwise nearly - unaccountable—the origin of the sacred legends of the Hindoos. - Perhaps they dream them, and then honestly believe them to be divine - revelations of fact. It looks like that, for the legends are built - on so vast a scale that it does not seem reasonable that plodding - priests would happen upon such colossal fancies when awake." -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<p>He told some of the legends, and said that they were implicitly believed -by all classes of Hindoos, including those of high social position and -intelligence; and he said that this universal credulity was a great -hindrance to the missionary in his work. Then he said something like -this: - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "At home, people wonder why Christianity does not make faster - progress in India. They hear that the Indians believe easily, and - that they have a natural trust in miracles and give them a - hospitable reception. Then they argue like this: since the Indian - believes easily, place Christianity before them and they must - believe; confirm its truths by the biblical miracles, and they will - no longer doubt. The natural deduction is, that as Christianity - makes but indifferent progress in India, the fault is with us: we - are not fortunate in presenting the doctrines and the miracles. - -<p> "But the truth is, we are not by any means so well equipped as they - think. We have not the easy task that they imagine. To use a - military figure, we are sent against the enemy with good powder in - our guns, but only wads for bullets; that is to say, our miracles - are not effective; the Hindoos do not care for them; they have more - extraordinary ones of their own. All the details of their own - religion are proven and established by miracles; the details of ours - must be proven in the same way. When I first began my work in India - I greatly underestimated the difficulties thus put upon my task. A - correction was not long in coming. I thought as our friends think - at home—that to prepare my childlike wonder-lovers to listen with - favor to my grave message I only needed to charm the way to it with - wonders, marvels, miracles. With full confidence I told the wonders - performed by Samson, the strongest man that had ever lived—for so I - called him. - -<p> "At first I saw lively anticipation and strong interest in the faces - of my people, but as I moved along from incident to incident of the - great story, I was distressed to see that I was steadily losing the - sympathy of my audience. I could not understand it. It was a - surprise to me, and a disappointment. Before I was through, the - fading sympathy had paled to indifference. Thence to the end the - indifference remained; I was not able to make any impression upon - it. - -<p> "A good old Hindoo gentleman told me where my trouble lay. He said - 'We Hindoos recognize a god by the work of his hands—we accept no - other testimony. Apparently, this is also the rule with you - Christians. And we know when a man has his power from a god by the - fact that he does things which he could not do, as a man, with the - mere powers of a man. Plainly, this is the Christian's way also, of - knowing when a man is working by a god's power and not by his own. - You saw that there was a supernatural property in the hair of - Samson; for you perceived that when his hair was gone he was as - other men. It is our way, as I have said. There are many nations - in the world, and each group of nations has its own gods, and will - pay no worship to the gods of the others. Each group believes its - own gods to be strongest, and it will not exchange them except for - gods that shall be proven to be their superiors in power. Man is - but a weak creature, and needs the help of gods—he cannot do - without it. Shall he place his fate in the hands of weak gods when - there may be stronger ones to be found? That would be foolish. No, - if he hear of gods that are stronger than his own, he should not - turn a deaf ear, for it is not a light matter that is at stake. How - then shall he determine which gods are the stronger, his own or - those that preside over the concerns of other nations? By comparing - the known works of his own gods with the works of those others; - there is no other way. Now, when we make this comparison, we are - not drawn towards the gods of any other nation. Our gods are shown - by their works to be the strongest, the most powerful. The - Christians have but few gods, and they are new—new, and not strong; - as it seems to us. They will increase in number, it is true, for - this has happened with all gods, but that time is far away, many - ages and decades of ages away, for gods multiply slowly, as is meet - for beings to whom a thousand years is but a single moment. Our own - gods have been born millions of years apart. The process is slow, - the gathering of strength and power is similarly slow. In the slow - lapse of the ages the steadily accumulating power of our gods has at - last become prodigious. We have a thousand proofs of this in the - colossal character of their personal acts and the acts of ordinary - men to whom they have given supernatural qualities. To your Samson - was given supernatural power, and when he broke the withes, and slew - the thousands with the jawbone of an ass, and carried away the - gate's of the city upon his shoulders, you were amazed—and also - awed, for you recognized the divine source of his strength. But it - could not profit to place these things before your Hindoo - congregation and invite their wonder; for they would compare them - with the deed done by Hanuman, when our gods infused their divine - strength into his muscles; and they would be indifferent to them—as - you saw. In the old, old times, ages and ages gone by, when our god - Rama was warring with the demon god of Ceylon, Rama bethought him to - bridge the sea and connect Ceylon with India, so that his armies - might pass easily over; and he sent his general, Hanuman, inspired - like your own Samson with divine strength, to bring the materials - for the bridge. In two days Hanuman strode fifteen hundred miles, - to the Himalayas, and took upon his shoulder a range of those lofty - mountains two hundred miles long, and started with it toward Ceylon. - It was in the night; and, as he passed along the plain, the people - of Govardhun heard the thunder of his tread and felt the earth - rocking under it, and they ran out, and there, with their snowy - summits piled to heaven, they saw the Himalayas passing by. And as - this huge continent swept along overshadowing the earth, upon its - slopes they discerned the twinkling lights of a thousand sleeping - villages, and it was as if the constellations were filing in - procession through the sky. -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p135.jpg (54K)" src="images/p135.jpg" height="965" width="543"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<blockquote><blockquote> - <p>While they were looking, Hanuman - stumbled, and a small ridge of red sandstone twenty miles long was - jolted loose and fell. Half of its length has wasted away in the - course of the ages, but the other ten miles of it remain in the - plain by Govardhun to this day as proof of the might of the - inspiration of our gods. You must know, yourself, that Hanuman - could not have carried those mountains to Ceylon except by the - strength of the gods. You know that it was not done by his own - strength, therefore, you know that it was done by the strength of - the gods, just as you know that Samson carried the gates by the - divine strength and not by his own. I think you must concede two - things: First, That in carrying the gates of the city upon his - shoulders, Samson did not establish the superiority of his gods over - ours; secondly, That his feat is not supported by any but verbal - evidence, while Hanuman's is not only supported by verbal evidence, - but this evidence is confirmed, established, proven, by visible, - tangible evidence, which is the strongest of all testimony. We have - the sandstone ridge, and while it remains we cannot doubt, and shall - not. Have you the gates?'" -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch13"></a><br><br>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> - -<p><i>The timid man yearns for full value and asks a tenth. The bold man -strikes for double value and compromises on par.</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>One is sure to be struck by the liberal way in which Australasia spends -money upon public works—such as legislative buildings, town halls, -hospitals, asylums, parks, and botanical gardens. I should say that -where minor towns in America spend a hundred dollars on the town hall and -on public parks and gardens, the like towns in Australasia spend a -thousand. And I think that this ratio will hold good in the matter of -hospitals, also. I have seen a costly and well-equipped, and -architecturally handsome hospital in an Australian village of fifteen -hundred inhabitants. It was built by private funds furnished by the -villagers and the neighboring planters, and its running expenses were -drawn from the same sources. I suppose it would be hard to match this in -any country. This village was about to close a contract for lighting its -streets with the electric light, when I was there. That is ahead of -London. London is still obscured by gas—gas pretty widely scattered, -too, in some of the districts; so widely indeed, that except on moonlight -nights it is difficult to find the gas lamps. - -<p>The botanical garden of Sydney covers thirty-eight acres, beautifully -laid out and rich with the spoil of all the lands and all the climes of -the world. The garden is on high ground in the middle of the town, -overlooking the great harbor, and it adjoins the spacious grounds of -Government House—fifty-six acres; and at hand also, is a recreation -ground containing eighty-two acres. In addition, there are the -zoological gardens, the race-course, and the great cricket-grounds where -the international matches are played. Therefore there is plenty of room -for reposeful lazying and lounging, and for exercise too, for such as -like that kind of work. - -<p>There are four specialties attainable in the way of social pleasure. If -you enter your name on the Visitor's Book at Government House you will -receive an invitation to the next ball that takes place there, if nothing -can be proven against you. And it will be very pleasant; for you will -see everybody except the Governor, and add a number of acquaintances and -several friends to your list. The Governor will be in England. He -always is. The continent has four or five governors, and I do not know -how many it takes to govern the outlying archipelago; but anyway you will -not see them. When they are appointed they come out from England and get -inaugurated, and give a ball, and help pray for rain, and get aboard ship -and go back home. And so the Lieutenant-Governor has to do all the work. -I was in Australasia three months and a half, and saw only one Governor. -The others were at home. - -<p>The Australasian Governor would not be so restless, perhaps, if he had a -war, or a veto, or something like that to call for his reserve-energies, -but he hasn't. There isn't any war, and there isn't any veto in his -hands. And so there is really little or nothing doing in his line. The -country governs itself, and prefers to do it; and is so strenuous about -it and so jealous of its independence that it grows restive if even the -Imperial Government at home proposes to help; and so the Imperial veto, -while a fact, is yet mainly a name. - -<p>Thus the Governor's functions are much more limited than are a Governor's -functions with us. And therefore more fatiguing. He is the apparent -head of the State, he is the real head of Society. He represents -culture, refinement, elevated sentiment, polite life, religion; and by -his example he propagates these, and they spread and flourish and bear -good fruit. He creates the fashion, and leads it. His ball is the ball -of balls, and his countenance makes the horse-race thrive. - -<p>He is usually a lord, and this is well; for his position compels him to -lead an expensive life, and an English lord is generally well equipped -for that. - -<p>Another of Sydney's social pleasures is the visit to the Admiralty House; -which is nobly situated on high ground overlooking the water. The trim -boats of the service convey the guests thither; and there, or on board -the flag-ship, they have the duplicate of the hospitalities of Government -House. The Admiral commanding a station in British waters is a magnate -of the first degree, and he is sumptuously housed, as becomes the dignity -of his office. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p140.jpg (52K)" src="images/p140.jpg" height="981" width="605"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>Third in the list of special pleasures is the tour of the harbor in a -fine steam pleasure-launch. Your richer friends own boats of this kind, -and they will invite you, and the joys of the trip will make a long day -seem short. - -<p>And finally comes the shark-fishing. Sydney Harbor is populous with the -finest breeds of man-eating sharks in the world. Some people make their -living catching them; for the Government pays a cash bounty on them. The -larger the shark the larger the bounty, and some of the sharks are twenty -feet long. You not only get the bounty, but everything that is in the -shark belongs to you. Sometimes the contents are quite valuable. - -<p>The shark is the swiftest fish that swims. The speed of the fastest -steamer afloat is poor compared to his. And he is a great gad-about, and -roams far and wide in the oceans, and visits the shores of all of them, -ultimately, in the course of his restless excursions. I have a tale to -tell now, which has not as yet been in print. In 1870 a young stranger -arrived in Sydney, and set about finding something to do; but he knew no -one, and brought no recommendations, and the result was that he got no -employment. He had aimed high, at first, but as time and his money -wasted away he grew less and less exacting, until at last he was willing -to serve in the humblest capacities if so he might get bread and shelter. -But luck was still against him; he could find no opening of any sort. -Finally his money was all gone. He walked the streets all day, thinking; -he walked them all night, thinking, thinking, and growing hungrier and -hungrier. At dawn he found himself well away from the town and drifting -aimlessly along the harbor shore. As he was passing by a nodding -shark-fisher the man looked up and said—— - -<p>"Say, young fellow, take my line a spell, and change my luck for me." - -<p>"How do you know I won't make it worse?" - -<p>"Because you can't. It has been at its worst all night. If you can't change it, -no harm's done; if you do change it, it's for the -better, of course. Come." - -<p>"All right, what will you give?" - -<p>"I'll give you the shark, if you catch one." - -<p>"And I will eat it, bones and all. Give me the line." - -<p>"Here you are. I will get away, now, for awhile, so that my luck won't -spoil yours; for many and many a time I've noticed that if——there, pull -in, pull in, man, you've got a bite! I knew how it would be. Why, I -knew you for a born son of luck the minute I saw you. All right—he's -landed." - -<p>It was an unusually large shark—"a full nineteen-footer," the fisherman -said, as he laid the creature open with his knife. - -<p>"Now you rob him, young man, while I step to my hamper for a fresh bait. -There's generally something in them worth going for. You've changed my -luck, you see. But my goodness, I hope you haven't changed your own." - -<p>"Oh, it wouldn't matter; don't worry about that. Get your bait. I'll -rob him." - -<p>When the fisherman got back the young man had just finished washing his -hands in the bay, and was starting away. - -<p>"What, you are not going?" - -<p>"Yes. Good-bye." - -<p>"But what about your shark?" - -<p>"The shark? Why, what use is he to me?" - -<p>"What use is he? I like that. Don't you know that we can go and report -him to Government, and you'll get a clean solid eighty shillings bounty? -Hard cash, you know. What do you think about it now?" - -<p>"Oh, well, you can collect it." - -<p>"And keep it? Is that what you mean?" - -<p>"Yes." - -<p>"Well, this is odd. You're one of those sort they call eccentrics, I -judge. The saying is, you mustn't judge a man by his clothes, and I'm -believing it now. Why yours are looking just ratty, don't you know; and -yet you must be rich." - -<p>"I am." - -<p>The young man walked slowly back to the town, deeply musing as he went. -He halted a moment in front of the best restaurant, then glanced at his -clothes and passed on, and got his breakfast at a "stand-up." There was -a good deal of it, and it cost five shillings. He tendered a sovereign, -got his change, glanced at his silver, muttered to himself, "There isn't -enough to buy clothes with," and went his way. - -<p>At half-past nine the richest wool-broker in Sydney was sitting in his -morning-room at home, settling his breakfast with the morning paper. A -servant put his head in and said: - -<p>"There's a sundowner at the door wants to see you, sir." - -<p>"What do you bring that kind of a message here for? Send him about his -business." - -<p>"He won't go, sir. I've tried." - -<p>"He won't go? That's—why, that's unusual. He's one of two things, -then: he's a remarkable person, or he's crazy. Is he crazy?" - -<p>"No, sir. He don't look it." - -<p>"Then he's remarkable. What does he say he wants?" - -<p>"He won't tell, sir; only says it's very important." - -<p>"And won't go. Does he say he won't go?" - -<p>"Says he'll stand there till he sees you, sir, if it's all day." - -<p>"And yet isn't crazy. Show him up." - -<p>The sundowner was shown in. The broker said to himself, "No, he's not -crazy; that is easy to see; so he must be the other thing." - -<p>Then aloud, "Well, my good fellow, be quick about it; don't waste any -words; what is it you want?" - -<p>"I want to borrow a hundred thousand pounds." - -<p>"Scott! (It's a mistake; he is crazy . . . . No—he can't be—not -with that eye.) Why, you take my breath away. Come, who are you?" - -<p>"Nobody that you know." - -<p>"What is your name?" - -<p>"Cecil Rhodes." - -<p>"No, I don't remember hearing the name before. Now then—just for -curiosity's sake—what has sent you to me on this extraordinary errand?" - -<p>"The intention to make a hundred thousand pounds for you and as much for -myself within the next sixty days." - -<p>"Well, well, well. It is the most extraordinary idea that—sit down—you -interest me. And somehow you—well, you fascinate me; I think that that -is about the word. And it isn't your proposition—no, that doesn't -fascinate me; it's something else, I don't quite know what; something -that's born in you and oozes out of you, I suppose. Now then just for -curiosity's sake again, nothing more: as I understand it, it is your -desire to bor——" - -<p>"I said intention." - -<p>"Pardon, so you did. I thought it was an unheedful use of the word—an -unheedful valuing of its strength, you know." - -<p>"I knew its strength." - -<p>"Well, I must say—but look here, let me walk the floor a little, my mind -is getting into a sort of whirl, though you don't seem disturbed any. -(Plainly this young fellow isn't crazy; but as to his being -remarkable—well, really he amounts to that, and something over.) Now then, I -believe I am beyond the reach of further astonishment. Strike, and spare -not. What is your scheme?" - -<p>"To buy the wool crop—deliverable in sixty days." - -<p>"What, the whole of it?" - -<p>"The whole of it." - -<p>"No, I was not quite out of the reach of surprises, after all. Why, how -you talk! Do you know what our crop is going to foot up?" - -<p>"Two and a half million sterling—maybe a little more." - -<p>"Well, you've got your statistics right, any way. Now, then, do you know -what the margins would foot up, to buy it at sixty days?" - -<p>"The hundred thousand pounds I came here to get." - -<p>"Right, once more. Well, dear me, just to see what would happen, I wish -you had the money. And if you had it, what would you do with it?" - -<p>"I shall make two hundred thousand pounds out of it in sixty days." - -<p>"You mean, of course, that you might make it if——" - -<p>"I said 'shall'." - -<p>"Yes, by George, you did say 'shall'! You are the most definite devil I -ever saw, in the matter of language. Dear, dear, dear, look here! -Definite speech means clarity of mind. Upon my word I believe you've got -what you believe to be a rational reason, for venturing into this house, -an entire stranger, on this wild scheme of buying the wool crop of an -entire colony on speculation. Bring it out—I am prepared—acclimatized, -if I may use the word. Why would you buy the crop, and why would you -make that sum out of it? That is to say, what makes you think you——" - -<p>"I don't think—I know." - -<p>"Definite again. How do you know?" - -<p>"Because France has declared war against Germany, and wool has gone up -fourteen per cent. in London and is still rising." - -<p>"Oh, in-deed? Now then, I've got you! Such a thunderbolt as you have -just let fly ought to have made me jump out of my chair, but it didn't -stir me the least little bit, you see. And for a very simple reason: I -have read the morning paper. You can look at it if you want to. The -fastest ship in the service arrived at eleven o'clock last night, fifty -days out from London. All her news is printed here. There are no -war-clouds anywhere; and as for wool, why, it is the low-spiritedest -commodity in the English market. It is your turn to jump, now . . . . -Well, why, don't you jump? Why do you sit there in that placid fashion, -when——" - -<p>"Because I have later news." - -<p>"Later news? Oh, come—later news than fifty days, brought steaming hot -from London by the——" - -<p>"My news is only ten days old." - -<p>"Oh, Mun-chausen, hear the maniac talk! Where did you get it?" - -<p>"Got it out of a shark." - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p147.jpg (38K)" src="images/p147.jpg" height="889" width="587"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>"Oh, oh, oh, this is too much! Front! call the police bring the -gun—raise the town! All the asylums in Christendom have broken loose in the -single person of——" - -<p>"Sit down! And collect yourself. Where is the use in getting excited? -Am I excited? There is nothing to get excited about. When I make a -statement which I cannot prove, it will be time enough for you to begin -to offer hospitality to damaging fancies about me and my sanity." - -<p>"Oh, a thousand, thousand pardons! I ought to be ashamed of myself, and -I am ashamed of myself for thinking that a little bit of a circumstance -like sending a shark to England to fetch back a market report——" - -<p>"What does your middle initial stand for, sir?" - -<p>"Andrew. What are you writing?" - -<p>"Wait a moment. Proof about the shark—and another matter. Only ten -lines. There—now it is done. Sign it." - -<p>"Many thanks—many. Let me see; it says—it says oh, come, this is -interesting! Why—why—look here! prove what you say here, and I'll put -up the money, and double as much, if necessary, and divide the winnings -with you, half and half. There, now—I've signed; make your promise good -if you can. Show me a copy of the London Times only ten days old." - -<p>"Here it is—and with it these buttons and a memorandum book that -belonged to the man the shark swallowed. Swallowed him in the Thames, -without a doubt; for you will notice that the last entry in the book is -dated 'London,' and is of the same date as the Times, and says, 'Ber -confequentz der Kreigeseflarun, reife ich heute nach Deutchland ab, aur -bak ich mein leben auf dem Ultar meines Landes legen mag'——, as clean -native German as anybody can put upon paper, and means that in -consequence of the declaration of war, this loyal soul is leaving for -home to-day, to fight. And he did leave, too, but the shark had him -before the day was done, poor fellow." - -<p>"And a pity, too. But there are times for mourning, and we will attend -to this case further on; other matters are pressing, now. I will go down -and set the machinery in motion in a quiet way and buy the crop. It will -cheer the drooping spirits of the boys, in a transitory way. Everything -is transitory in this world. Sixty days hence, when they are called to -deliver the goods, they will think they've been struck by lightning. But -there is a time for mourning, and we will attend to that case along with -the other one. Come along, I'll take you to my tailor. What did you say -your name is?" - -<p>"Cecil Rhodes." - -<p>"It is hard to remember. However, I think you will make it easier by and -by, if you live. There are three kinds of people—Commonplace Men, -Remarkable Men, and Lunatics. I'll classify you with the Remarkables, -and take the chances." - -<p>The deal went through, and secured to the young stranger the first -fortune he ever pocketed. - -<p>The people of Sydney ought to be afraid of the sharks, but for some -reason they do not seem to be. On Saturdays the young men go out in -their boats, and sometimes the water is fairly covered with the little -sails. A boat upsets now and then, by accident, a result of tumultuous -skylarking; sometimes the boys upset their boat for fun—such as it is -with sharks visibly waiting around for just such an occurrence. The -young fellows scramble aboard whole—sometimes—not always. Tragedies -have happened more than once. While I was in Sydney it was reported that -a boy fell out of a boat in the mouth of the Paramatta river and screamed -for help and a boy jumped overboard from another boat to save him from -the assembling sharks; but the sharks made swift work with the lives of -both. - -<p>The government pays a bounty for the shark; to get the bounty the -fishermen bait the hook or the seine with agreeable mutton; the news -spreads and the sharks come from all over the Pacific Ocean to get the -free board. In time the shark culture will be one of the most successful -things in the colony. - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch14"></a><br><br>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> - -<p><i>We can secure other people's approval, if we do right and try hard; but -our own is worth a hundred of it, and no way has been found out of -securing that.</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>My health had broken down in New York in May; it had remained in a -doubtful but fairish condition during a succeeding period of 82 days; it -broke again on the Pacific. It broke again in Sydney, but not until -after I had had a good outing, and had also filled my lecture -engagements. This latest break lost me the chance of seeing Queensland. -In the circumstances, to go north toward hotter weather was not -advisable. - -<p>So we moved south with a westward slant, 17 hours by rail to the capital -of the colony of Victoria, Melbourne—that juvenile city of sixty years, -and half a million inhabitants. On the map the distance looked small; -but that is a trouble with all divisions of distance in such a vast -country as Australia. The colony of Victoria itself looks small on the -map—looks like a county, in fact—yet it is about as large as England, -Scotland, and Wales combined. Or, to get another focus upon it, it is -just 80 times as large as the state of Rhode Island, and one-third as -large as the State of Texas. - -<p>Outside of Melbourne, Victoria seems to be owned by a handful of -squatters, each with a Rhode Island for a sheep farm. That is the -impression which one gathers from common talk, yet the wool industry of -Victoria is by no means so great as that of New South Wales. The climate -of Victoria is favorable to other great industries—among others, -wheat-growing and the making of wine. - -<p>We took the train at Sydney at about four in the afternoon. It was -American in one way, for we had a most rational sleeping car; also the -car was clean and fine and new—nothing about it to suggest the rolling -stock of the continent of Europe. But our baggage was weighed, and extra -weight charged for. That was continental. Continental and troublesome. -Any detail of railroading that is not troublesome cannot honorably be -described as continental. - -<p>The tickets were round-trip ones—to Melbourne, and clear to Adelaide in -South Australia, and then all the way back to Sydney. Twelve hundred -more miles than we really expected to make; but then as the round trip -wouldn't cost much more than the single trip, it seemed well enough to -buy as many miles as one could afford, even if one was not likely to need -them. A human being has a natural desire to have more of a good thing -than he needs. - -<p>Now comes a singular thing: the oddest thing, the strangest thing, the -most baffling and unaccountable marvel that Australasia can show. At the -frontier between New South Wales and Victoria our multitude of passengers -were routed out of their snug beds by lantern-light in the morning in the -biting-cold of a high altitude to change cars on a road that has no break -in it from Sydney to Melbourne! Think of the paralysis of intellect that -gave that idea birth; imagine the boulder it emerged from on some -petrified legislator's shoulders. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p152.jpg (24K)" src="images/p152.jpg" height="355" width="635"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>It is a narrow-gage road to the frontier, and a broader gauge thence to -Melbourne. The two governments were the builders of the road and are the -owners of it. One or two reasons are given for this curious state of -things. One is, that it represents the jealousy existing between the -colonies—the two most important colonies of Australasia. What the other -one is, I have forgotten. But it is of no consequence. It could be but -another effort to explain the inexplicable. - -<p>All passengers fret at the double-gauge; all shippers of freight must of -course fret at it; unnecessary expense, delay, and annoyance are imposed -upon everybody concerned, and no one is benefitted. - -<p>Each Australian colony fences itself off from its neighbor with a -custom-house. Personally, I have no objection, but it must be a good deal of -inconvenience to the people. We have something resembling it here and -there in America, but it goes by another name. The large empire of the -Pacific coast requires a world of iron machinery, and could manufacture -it economically on the spot if the imposts on foreign iron were removed. -But they are not. Protection to Pennsylvania and Alabama forbids it. -The result to the Pacific coast is the same as if there were several rows -of custom-fences between the coast and the East. Iron carted across the -American continent at luxurious railway rates would be valuable enough to -be coined when it arrived. - -<p>We changed cars. This was at Albury. And it was there, I think, that -the growing day and the early sun exposed the distant range called the -Blue Mountains. Accurately named. "My word!" as the Australians say, -but it was a stunning color, that blue. Deep, strong, rich, exquisite; -towering and majestic masses of blue—a softly luminous blue, a -smouldering blue, as if vaguely lit by fires within. It extinguished the -blue of the sky—made it pallid and unwholesome, whitey and washed-out. -A wonderful color—just divine. - -<p>A resident told me that those were not mountains; he said they were -rabbit-piles. And explained that long exposure and the over-ripe -condition of the rabbits was what made them look so blue. This man may -have been right, but much reading of books of travel has made me -distrustful of gratis information furnished by unofficial residents of a -country. The facts which such people give to travelers are usually -erroneous, and often intemperately so. The rabbit-plague has indeed been -very bad in Australia, and it could account for one mountain, but not for -a mountain range, it seems to me. It is too large an order. - -<p>We breakfasted at the station. A good breakfast, except the coffee; and -cheap. The Government establishes the prices and placards them. The -waiters were men, I think; but that is not usual in Australasia. The -usual thing is to have girls. No, not girls, young ladies—generally -duchesses. Dress? They would attract attention at any royal levee in -Europe. Even empresses and queens do not dress as they do. Not that -they could not afford it, perhaps, but they would not know how. - -<p>All the pleasant morning we slid smoothly along over the plains, through -thin—not thick—forests of great melancholy gum trees, with trunks -rugged with curled sheets of flaking bark—erysipelas convalescents, so -to speak, shedding their dead skins. And all along were tiny cabins, -built sometimes of wood, sometimes of gray-blue corrugated iron; and the -doorsteps and fences were clogged with children—rugged little -simply-clad chaps that looked as if they had been imported from the banks of the -Mississippi without breaking bulk. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p155.jpg (85K)" src="images/p155.jpg" height="1021" width="625"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>And there were little villages, with neat stations well placarded with -showy advertisements—mainly of almost too self-righteous brands of -"sheepdip." If that is the name—and I think it is. It is a stuff like -tar, and is dabbed on to places where the shearer clips a piece out of -the sheep. It bars out the flies, and has healing properties, and a nip -to it which makes the sheep skip like the cattle on a thousand hills. It -is not good to eat. That is, it is not good to eat except when mixed -with railroad coffee. It improves railroad coffee. Without it railroad -coffee is too vague. But with it, it is quite assertive and -enthusiastic. By itself, railroad coffee is too passive; but sheep-dip -makes it wake up and get down to business. I wonder where they get -railroad coffee? - -<p>We saw birds, but not a kangaroo, not an emu, not an ornithorhynchus, not -a lecturer, not a native. Indeed, the land seemed quite destitute of -game. But I have misused the word native. In Australia it is applied to -Australian-born whites only. I should have said that we saw no -Aboriginals—no "blackfellows." And to this day I have never seen one. -In the great museums you will find all the other curiosities, but in the -curio of chiefest interest to the stranger all of them are lacking. We -have at home an abundance of museums, and not an American Indian in them. -It is clearly an absurdity, but it never struck me before. - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch15"></a><br><br>CHAPTER XV.</h2> - -<p><i>Truth is stranger than fiction—to some people, but I am measurably -familiar with it.</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p><i>Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because Fiction is obliged to -stick to possibilities; Truth isn't.</i> - <center>Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>The air was balmy and delicious, the sunshine radiant; it was a charming -excursion. In the course of it we came to a town whose odd name was -famous all over the world a quarter of a century ago—Wagga-Wagga. This -was because the Tichborne Claimant had kept a butcher-shop there. It was -out of the midst of his humble collection of sausages and tripe that he -soared up into the zenith of notoriety and hung there in the wastes of -space a time, with the telescopes of all nations leveled at him in -unappeasable curiosity—curiosity as to which of the two long-missing -persons he was: Arthur Orton, the mislaid roustabout of Wapping, or Sir -Roger Tichborne, the lost heir of a name and estates as old as English -history. We all know now, but not a dozen people knew then; and the -dozen kept the mystery to themselves and allowed the most intricate and -fascinating and marvelous real-life romance that has ever been played -upon the world's stage to unfold itself serenely, act by act, in a -British court by the long and laborious processes of judicial -development. - -<p>When we recall the details of that great romance we marvel to see what -daring chances truth may freely take in constructing a tale, as compared -with the poor little conservative risks permitted to fiction. The -fiction-artist could achieve no success with the materials of this -splendid Tichborne romance. - -<p>He would have to drop out the chief characters; the public would say such -people are impossible. He would have to drop out a number of the most -picturesque incidents; the public would say such things could never -happen. And yet the chief characters did exist, and the incidents did -happen. - -<p>It cost the Tichborne estates $400,000 to unmask the Claimant and drive -him out; and even after the exposure multitudes of Englishmen still -believed in him. It cost the British Government another $400,000 to -convict him of perjury; and after the conviction the same old multitudes -still believed in him; and among these believers were many educated and -intelligent men; and some of them had personally known the real Sir -Roger. The Claimant was sentenced to 14 years' imprisonment. When he -got out of prison he went to New York and kept a whisky saloon in the -Bowery for a time, then disappeared from view. - -<p>He always claimed to be Sir Roger Tichborne until death called for him. -This was but a few months ago—not very much short of a generation since -he left Wagga-Wagga to go and possess himself of his estates. On his -death-bed he yielded up his secret, and confessed in writing that he was -only Arthur Orton of Wapping, able seaman and butcher—that and nothing -more. But it is scarcely to be doubted that there are people whom even -his dying confession will not convince. The old habit of assimilating -incredibilities must have made strong food a necessity in their case; a -weaker article would probably disagree with them. - -<p>I was in London when the Claimant stood his trial for perjury. I -attended one of his showy evenings in the sumptuous quarters provided for -him from the purses of his adherents and well-wishers. He was in evening -dress, and I thought him a rather fine and stately creature. There were -about twenty-five gentlemen present; educated men, men moving in good -society, none of them commonplace; some of them were men of distinction, -none of them were obscurities. They were his cordial friends and -admirers. It was "Sir Roger," always "Sir Roger," on all hands; no one -withheld the title, all turned it from the tongue with unction, and as if -it tasted good. - -<p>For many years I had had a mystery in stock. Melbourne, and only -Melbourne, could unriddle it for me. In 1873 I arrived in London with my -wife and young child, and presently received a note from Naples signed by -a name not familiar to me. It was not Bascom, and it was not Henry; but -I will call it Henry Bascom for convenience's sake. This note, of about -six lines, was written on a strip of white paper whose end-edges were -ragged. I came to be familiar with those strips in later years. Their -size and pattern were always the same. Their contents were usually to -the same effect: would I and mine come to the writer's country-place in -England on such and such a date, by such and such a train, and stay -twelve days and depart by such and such a train at the end of the -specified time? A carriage would meet us at the station. - -<p>These invitations were always for a long time ahead; if we were in -Europe, three months ahead; if we were in America, six to twelve months -ahead. They always named the exact date and train for the beginning and -also for the end of the visit. - -<p>This first note invited us for a date three months in the future. It -asked us to arrive by the 4.10 p.m. train from London, August 6th. The -carriage would be waiting. The carriage would take us away seven days -later-train specified. And there were these words: "Speak to Tom -Hughes." - -<p>I showed the note to the author of "Tom Brown at Rugby," and he said: -"Accept, and be thankful." - -<p>He described Mr. Bascom as being a man of genius, a man of fine -attainments, a choice man in every way, a rare and beautiful character. -He said that Bascom Hall was a particularly fine example of the stately -manorial mansion of Elizabeth's days, and that it was a house worth going -a long way to see—like Knowle; that Mr. B. was of a social disposition; -liked the company of agreeable people, and always had samples of the sort -coming and going. - -<p>We paid the visit. We paid others, in later years—the last one in 1879. -Soon after that Mr. Bascom started on a voyage around the world in a -steam yacht—a long and leisurely trip, for he was making collections, in -all lands, of birds, butterflies, and such things. - -<p>The day that President Garfield was shot by the assassin Guiteau, we were -at a little watering place on Long Island Sound; and in the mail matter -of that day came a letter with the Melbourne post-mark on it. It was for -my wife, but I recognized Mr. Bascom's handwriting on the envelope, and -opened it. It was the usual note—as to paucity of lines—and was -written on the customary strip of paper; but there was nothing usual -about the contents. The note informed my wife that if it would be any -assuagement of her grief to know that her husband's lecture-tour in -Australia was a satisfactory venture from the beginning to the end, he, -the writer, could testify that such was the case; also, that her -husband's untimely death had been mourned by all classes, as she would -already know by the press telegrams, long before the reception of this -note; that the funeral was attended by the officials of the colonial and -city governments; and that while he, the writer, her friend and mine, had -not reached Melbourne in time to see the body, he had at least had the -sad privilege of acting as one of the pall-bearers. Signed, "Henry -Bascom." - -<p>My first thought was, why didn't he have the coffin opened? He would -have seen that the corpse was an imposter, and he could have gone right -ahead and dried up the most of those tears, and comforted those sorrowing -governments, and sold the remains and sent me the money. - -<p>I did nothing about the matter. I had set the law after living lecture -doubles of mine a couple of times in America, and the law had not been -able to catch them; others in my trade had tried to catch their -impostor-doubles and had failed. Then where was the use in harrying a ghost? -None—and so I did not disturb it. I had a curiosity to know about that -man's lecture-tour and last moments, but that could wait. When I should -see Mr. Bascom he would tell me all about it. But he passed from life, -and I never saw him again.. My curiosity faded away. - -<p>However, when I found that I was going to Australia it revived. And -naturally: for if the people should say that I was a dull, poor thing -compared to what I was before I died, it would have a bad effect on -business. Well, to my surprise the Sydney journalists had never heard of -that impostor! I pressed them, but they were firm—they had never heard -of him, and didn't believe in him. - -<p>I could not understand it; still, I thought it would all come right in -Melbourne. The government would remember; and the other mourners. At -the supper of the Institute of Journalists I should find out all about -the matter. But no—it turned out that they had never heard of it. - -<p>So my mystery was a mystery still. It was a great disappointment. I -believed it would never be cleared up—in this life—so I dropped it out -of my mind. - -<p>But at last! just when I was least expecting it—— - -<p>However, this is not the place for the rest of it; I shall come to the -matter again, in a far-distant chapter. - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch16"></a><br><br>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> - -<p><i>There is a Moral sense, and there is an Immoral Sense. History shows us -that the Moral Sense enables us to perceive morality and how to avoid it, -and that the Immoral Sense enables us to perceive immorality and how to -enjoy it.</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>Melbourne spreads around over an immense area of ground. It is a stately -city architecturally as well as in magnitude. It has an elaborate system -of cable-car service; it has museums, and colleges, and schools, and -public gardens, and electricity, and gas, and libraries, and theaters, -and mining centers, and wool centers, and centers of the arts and -sciences, and boards of trade, and ships, and railroads, and a harbor, -and social clubs, and journalistic clubs, and racing clubs, and a -squatter club sumptuously housed and appointed, and as many churches and -banks as can make a living. In a word, it is equipped with everything -that goes to make the modern great city. It is the largest city of -Australasia, and fills the post with honor and credit. It has one -specialty; this must not be jumbled in with those other things. It is -the mitred Metropolitan of the Horse-Racing Cult. Its race-ground is the -Mecca of Australasia. On the great annual day of sacrifice—the 5th of -November, Guy Fawkes's Day—business is suspended over a stretch of land -and sea as wide as from New York to San Francisco, and deeper than from -the northern lakes to the Gulf of Mexico; and every man and woman, of -high degree or low, who can afford the expense, put away their other -duties and come. They begin to swarm in by ship and rail a fortnight -before the day, and they swarm thicker and thicker day after day, until -all the vehicles of transportation are taxed to their uttermost to meet -the demands of the occasion, and all hotels and lodgings are bulging -outward because of the pressure from within. They come a hundred -thousand strong, as all the best authorities say, and they pack the -spacious grounds and grandstands and make a spectacle such as is never to -be seen in Australasia elsewhere. - -<p>It is the "Melbourne Cup" that brings this multitude together. Their -clothes have been ordered long ago, at unlimited cost, and without bounds -as to beauty and magnificence, and have been kept in concealment until -now, for unto this day are they consecrate. I am speaking of the ladies' -clothes; but one might know that. - -<p>And so the grand-stands make a brilliant and wonderful spectacle, a -delirium of color, a vision of beauty. The champagne flows, everybody is -vivacious, excited, happy; everybody bets, and gloves and fortunes change -hands right along, all the time. Day after day the races go on, and the -fun and the excitement are kept at white heat; and when each day is done, -the people dance all night so as to be fresh for the race in the morning. -And at the end of the great week the swarms secure lodgings and -transportation for next year, then flock away to their remote homes and -count their gains and losses, and order next year's Cup-clothes, and then -lie down and sleep two weeks, and get up sorry to reflect that a whole -year must be put in somehow or other before they can be wholly happy -again. - -<p>The Melbourne Cup is the Australasian National Day. It would be -difficult to overstate its importance. It overshadows all other holidays -and specialized days of whatever sort in that congeries of colonies. -Overshadows them? I might almost say it blots them out. Each of them -gets attention, but not everybody's; each of them evokes interest, but -not everybody's; each of them rouses enthusiasm, but not everybody's; in -each case a part of the attention, interest, and enthusiasm is a matter -of habit and custom, and another part of it is official and perfunctory. -Cup Day, and Cup Day only, commands an attention, an interest, and an -enthusiasm which are universal—and spontaneous, not perfunctory. Cup -Day is supreme—it has no rival. I can call to mind no specialized annual -day, in any country, which can be named by that large name—Supreme. I -can call to mind no specialized annual day, in any country, whose -approach fires the whole land with a conflagration of conversation and -preparation and anticipation and jubilation. No day save this one; but -this one does it. - -<p>In America we have no annual supreme day; no day whose approach makes the -whole nation glad. We have the Fourth of July, and Christmas, and -Thanksgiving. Neither of them can claim the primacy; neither of them can -arouse an enthusiasm which comes near to being universal. Eight grown -Americans out of ten dread the coming of the Fourth, with its pandemonium -and its perils, and they rejoice when it is gone—if still alive. The -approach of Christmas brings harassment and dread to many excellent -people. They have to buy a cart-load of presents, and they never know -what to buy to hit the various tastes; they put in three weeks of hard -and anxious work, and when Christmas morning comes they are so -dissatisfied with the result, and so disappointed that they want to sit -down and cry. Then they give thanks that Christmas comes but once a -year. The observance of Thanksgiving Day—as a function—has become -general of late years. The Thankfulness is not so general. This is -natural. Two-thirds of the nation have always had hard luck and a hard -time during the year, and this has a calming effect upon their -enthusiasm. - -<p>We have a supreme day—a sweeping and tremendous and tumultuous day, a -day which commands an absolute universality of interest and excitement; -but it is not annual. It comes but once in four years; therefore it -cannot count as a rival of the Melbourne Cup. - -<p>In Great Britain and Ireland they have two great days—Christmas and the -Queen's birthday. But they are equally popular; there is no supremacy. - -<p>I think it must be conceded that the position of the Australasian Day is -unique, solitary, unfellowed; and likely to hold that high place a long -time. - -<p>The next things which interest us when we travel are, first, the people; -next, the novelties; and finally the history of the places and countries -visited. Novelties are rare in cities which represent the most advanced -civilization of the modern day. When one is familiar with such cities in -the other parts of the world he is in effect familiar with the cities of -Australasia. The outside aspects will furnish little that is new. There -will be new names, but the things which they represent will sometimes be -found to be less new than their names. There may be shades of -difference, but these can easily be too fine for detection by the -incompetent eye of the passing stranger. In the larrikin he will not be -able to discover a new species, but only an old one met elsewhere, and -variously called loafer, rough, tough, bummer, or blatherskite, according -to his geographical distribution. The larrikin differs by a shade from -those others, in that he is more sociable toward the stranger than they, -more kindly disposed, more hospitable, more hearty, more friendly. At -least it seemed so to me, and I had opportunity to observe. In Sydney, -at least. In Melbourne I had to drive to and from the lecture-theater, -but in Sydney I was able to walk both ways, and did it. Every night, on -my way home at ten, or a quarter past, I found the larrikin grouped in -considerable force at several of the street corners, and he always gave -me this pleasant salutation: - -<p>"Hello, Mark!" - -<p>"Here's to you, old chap! - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p166.jpg (78K)" src="images/p166.jpg" height="879" width="545"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>"Say—Mark!—is he dead?"—a reference to a passage in some book of mine, -though I did not detect, at that time, that that was its source. And I -didn't detect it afterward in Melbourne, when I came on the stage for the -first time, and the same question was dropped down upon me from the dizzy -height of the gallery. It is always difficult to answer a sudden inquiry -like that, when you have come unprepared and don't know what it means. -I will remark here—if it is not an indecorum—that the welcome which an -American lecturer gets from a British colonial audience is a thing which -will move him to his deepest deeps, and veil his sight and break his -voice. And from Winnipeg to Africa, experience will teach him nothing; -he will never learn to expect it, it will catch him as a surprise each -time. The war-cloud hanging black over England and America made no -trouble for me. I was a prospective prisoner of war, but at dinners, -suppers, on the platform, and elsewhere, there was never anything to -remind me of it. This was hospitality of the right metal, and would have -been prominently lacking in some countries, in the circumstances. - -<p>And speaking of the war-flurry, it seemed to me to bring to light the -unexpected, in a detail or two. It seemed to relegate the war-talk to -the politicians on both sides of the water; whereas whenever a -prospective war between two nations had been in the air theretofore, the -public had done most of the talking and the bitterest. The attitude of -the newspapers was new also. I speak of those of Australasia and India, -for I had access to those only. They treated the subject argumentatively -and with dignity, not with spite and anger. That was a new spirit, too, -and not learned of the French and German press, either before Sedan or -since. I heard many public speeches, and they reflected the moderation -of the journals. The outlook is that the English-speaking race will -dominate the earth a hundred years from now, if its sections do not get -to fighting each other. It would be a pity to spoil that prospect by -baffling and retarding wars when arbitration would settle their -differences so much better and also so much more definitely. - -<p>No, as I have suggested, novelties are rare in the great capitals of -modern times. Even the wool exchange in Melbourne could not be told from -the familiar stock exchange of other countries. Wool brokers are just -like stockbrokers; they all bounce from their seats and put up their -hands and yell in unison—no stranger can tell what—and the president -calmly says "Sold to Smith & Co., threpence farthing—next!"—when -probably nothing of the kind happened; for how should he know? - -<p>In the museums you will find acres of the most strange and fascinating -things; but all museums are fascinating, and they do so tire your eyes, -and break your back, and burn out your vitalities with their consuming -interest. You always say you will never go again, but you do go. The -palaces of the rich, in Melbourne, are much like the palaces of the rich -in America, and the life in them is the same; but there the resemblance -ends. The grounds surrounding the American palace are not often large, -and not often beautiful, but in the Melbourne case the grounds are often -ducally spacious, and the climate and the gardeners together make them as -beautiful as a dream. It is said that some of the country seats have -grounds—domains—about them which rival in charm and magnitude those -which surround the country mansion of an English lord; but I was not out -in the country; I had my hands full in town. - -<p>And what was the origin of this majestic city and its efflorescence of -palatial town houses and country seats? Its first brick was laid and -its first house built by a passing convict. Australian history is almost -always picturesque; indeed, it is so curious and strange, that it is -itself the chiefest novelty the country has to offer, and so it pushes -the other novelties into second and third place. It does not read like -history, but like the most beautiful lies. And all of a fresh new sort, -no mouldy old stale ones. It is full of surprises, and adventures, and -incongruities, and contradictions, and incredibilities; but they are all -true, they all happened. - - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p169.jpg (11K)" src="images/p169.jpg" height="263" width="470"> -</center> - - - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch17"></a><br><br>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> - -<p><i>The English are mentioned in the Bible: Blessed are the meek, for they -shall inherit the earth.</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>When we consider the immensity of the British Empire in territory, -population, and trade, it requires a stern exercise of faith to believe -in the figures which represent Australasia's contribution to the Empire's -commercial grandeur. As compared with the landed estate of the British -Empire, the landed estate dominated by any other Power except -one—Russia—is not very impressive for size. My authorities make the British -Empire not much short of a fourth larger than the Russian Empire. -Roughly proportioned, if you will allow your entire hand to represent the -British Empire, you may then cut off the fingers a trifle above the -middle joint of the middle finger, and what is left of the hand will -represent Russia. The populations ruled by Great Britain and China are -about the same—400,000,000 each. No other Power approaches these -figures. Even Russia is left far behind. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p171.jpg (23K)" src="images/p171.jpg" height="823" width="513"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>The population of Australasia—4,000,000—sinks into nothingness, and is -lost from sight in that British ocean of 400,000,000. Yet the statistics -indicate that it rises again and shows up very conspicuously when its -share of the Empire's commerce is the matter under consideration. The -value of England's annual exports and imports is stated at three billions -of dollars,—[New South Wales Blue Book.]—and it is claimed that more -than one-tenth of this great aggregate is represented by Australasia's -exports to England and imports from England. In addition to this, -Australasia does a trade with countries other than England, amounting to -a hundred million dollars a year, and a domestic intercolonial trade -amounting to a hundred and fifty millions. - -<p>In round numbers the 4,000,000 buy and sell about $600,000,000 worth of -goods a year. It is claimed that about half of this represents -commodities of Australasian production. The products exported annually -by India are worth a trifle over $500,000,000.1 Now, here are some -faith-straining figures: - -<center> -<table summary=""> - - -<tr><td>Indian production (300,000,000 population), </td><td>$500,000,000.</td></tr> -<tr><td> </td></tr> -<tr><td>Australasian production (4,000,000 population), </td><td>$300,000,000.</td></tr> - - -</table> -</center> - - -<p>That is to say, the product of the individual Indian, annually (for -export some whither), is worth $1.75; that of the individual -Australasian (for export some whither), $75! Or, to put it in another -way, the Indian family of man and wife and three children sends away an -annual result worth $8.75, while the Australasian family sends away $375 -worth. - -<p>There are trustworthy statistics furnished by Sir Richard Temple and -others, which show that the individual Indian's whole annual product, -both for export and home use, is worth in gold only $7.50; or, $37.50 -for the family-aggregate. Ciphered out on a like ratio of -multiplication, the Australasian family's aggregate production would be -nearly $1,600. Truly, nothing is so astonishing as figures, if they once -get started. - -<p>We left Melbourne by rail for Adelaide, the capital of the vast Province -of South Australia—a seventeen-hour excursion. On the train we found -several Sydney friends; among them a Judge who was going out on circuit, -and was going to hold court at Broken Hill, where the celebrated silver -mine is. It seemed a curious road to take to get to that region. Broken -Hill is close to the western border of New South Wales, and Sydney is on -the eastern border. A fairly straight line, 700 miles long, drawn -westward from Sydney, would strike Broken Hill, just as a somewhat -shorter one drawn west from Boston would strike Buffalo. The way the -Judge was traveling would carry him over 2,000 miles by rail, he said; -southwest from Sydney down to Melbourne, then northward up to Adelaide, -then a cant back northeastward and over the border into New South Wales -once more—to Broken Hill. It was like going from Boston southwest to -Richmond, Virginia, then northwest up to Erie, Pennsylvania, then a cant -back northeast and over the border—to Buffalo, New York. - -<p>But the explanation was simple. Years ago the fabulously rich silver -discovery at Broken Hill burst suddenly upon an unexpectant world. Its -stocks started at shillings, and went by leaps and bounds to the most -fanciful figures. It was one of those cases where the cook puts a -month's wages into shares, and comes next month and buys your house at -your own price, and moves into it herself; where the coachman takes a few -shares, and next month sets up a bank; and where the common sailor -invests the price of a spree, and the next month buys out the steamship -company and goes into business on his own hook. In a word, it was one of -those excitements which bring multitudes of people to a common center -with a rush, and whose needs must be supplied, and at once. Adelaide was -close by, Sydney was far away. Adelaide threw a short railway across the -border before Sydney had time to arrange for a long one; it was not worth -while for Sydney to arrange at all. The whole vast trade-profit of -Broken Hill fell into Adelaide's hands, irrevocably. New South Wales law -furnishes for Broken Hill and sends her Judges 2,000 miles—mainly -through alien countries—to administer it, but Adelaide takes the -dividends and makes no moan. - -<p>We started at 4.20 in the afternoon, and moved across level plains until night. -In the morning we had a stretch of "scrub" country—the kind of thing -which is so useful to the Australian novelist. In the scrub the hostile -aboriginal lurks, and flits mysteriously about, slipping out from time to -time to surprise and slaughter the settler; then slipping back again, and -leaving no track that the white man can follow. In the scrub the -novelist's heroine gets lost, search fails of result; she wanders here -and there, and finally sinks down exhausted and unconscious, and the -searchers pass within a yard or two of her, not suspecting that she is -near, and by and by some rambler finds her bones and the pathetic diary -which she had scribbled with her failing hand and left behind. Nobody -can find a lost heroine in the scrub but the aboriginal "tracker," and he -will not lend himself to the scheme if it will interfere with the -novelist's plot. The scrub stretches miles and miles in all directions, -and looks like a level roof of bush-tops without a break or a crack in -it—as seamless as a blanket, to all appearance. One might as well walk -under water and hope to guess out a route and stick to it, I should -think. Yet it is claimed that the aboriginal "tracker" was able to hunt -out people lost in the scrub. Also in the "bush"; also in the desert; -and even follow them over patches of bare rocks and over alluvial ground -which had to all appearance been washed clear of footprints. - -<p>From reading Australian books and talking with the people, I became -convinced that the aboriginal tracker's performances evince a craft, a -penetration, a luminous sagacity, and a minuteness and accuracy of -observation in the matter of detective-work not found in nearly so -remarkable a degree in any other people, white or colored. In an -official account of the blacks of Australia published by the government -of Victoria, one reads that the aboriginal not only notices the faint -marks left on the bark of a tree by the claws of a climbing opossum, but -knows in some way or other whether the marks were made to-day or -yesterday. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p175.jpg (64K)" src="images/p175.jpg" height="867" width="619"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>And there is the case, on record where A., a settler, makes a bet with -B., that B. may lose a cow as effectually as he can, and A. will produce -an aboriginal who will find her. B. selects a cow and lets the tracker -see the cow's footprint, then be put under guard. B. then drives the cow -a few miles over a course which drifts in all directions, and frequently -doubles back upon itself; and he selects difficult ground all the time, -and once or twice even drives the cow through herds of other cows, and -mingles her tracks in the wide confusion of theirs. He finally brings -his cow home; the aboriginal is set at liberty, and at once moves around -in a great circle, examining all cow-tracks until he finds the one he is -after; then sets off and follows it throughout its erratic course, and -ultimately tracks it to the stable where B. has hidden the cow. Now -wherein does one cow-track differ from another? There must be a -difference, or the tracker could not have performed the feat; a -difference minute, shadowy, and not detectible by you or me, or by the -late Sherlock Holmes, and yet discernible by a member of a race charged -by some people with occupying the bottom place in the gradations of human -intelligence. - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch18"></a><br><br>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> - -<p><i>It is easier to stay out than get out.</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>The train was now exploring a beautiful hill country, and went twisting -in and out through lovely little green valleys. There were several -varieties of gum trees; among them many giants. Some of them were bodied -and barked like the sycamore; some were of fantastic aspect, and reminded -one of the quaint apple trees in Japanese pictures. And there was one -peculiarly beautiful tree whose name and breed I did not know. The -foliage seemed to consist of big bunches of pine-spines, the lower half -of each bunch a rich brown or old-gold color, the upper half a most vivid -and strenuous and shouting green. The effect was altogether bewitching. -The tree was apparently rare. I should say that the first and last -samples of it seen by us were not more than half an hour apart. There -was another tree of striking aspect, a kind of pine, we were told. Its -foliage was as fine as hair, apparently, and its mass sphered itself -above the naked straight stem like an explosion of misty smoke. It was -not a sociable sort; it did not gather in groups or couples, but each -individual stood far away from its nearest neighbor. It scattered itself -in this spacious and exclusive fashion about the slopes of swelling -grassy great knolls, and stood in the full flood of the wonderful -sunshine; and as far as you could see the tree itself you could also see -the ink-black blot of its shadow on the shining green carpet at its feet. - -<p>On some part of this railway journey we saw gorse and broom—importations -from England—and a gentleman who came into our compartment on a visit -tried to tell me which—was which; but as he didn't know, he had -difficulty. He said he was ashamed of his ignorance, but that he had -never been confronted with the question before during the fifty years and -more that he had spent in Australia, and so he had never happened to get -interested in the matter. But there was no need to be ashamed. The most -of us have his defect. We take a natural interest in novelties, but it -is against nature to take an interest in familiar things. The gorse and -the broom were a fine accent in the landscape. Here and there they burst -out in sudden conflagrations of vivid yellow against a background of -sober or sombre color, with a so startling effect as to make a body catch -his breath with the happy surprise of it. And then there was the wattle, -a native bush or tree, an inspiring cloud of sumptuous yellow bloom. It -is a favorite with the Australians, and has a fine fragrance, a quality -usually wanting in Australian blossoms. - -<p>The gentleman who enriched me with the poverty of his information about the -gorse and the broom told me that he came out from England a youth of -twenty and entered the Province of South Australia with thirty-six -shillings in his pocket—an adventurer without trade, profession, or -friends, but with a clearly-defined purpose in his head: he would stay -until he was worth L200, then go back home. He would allow himself five -years for the accumulation of this fortune. - -<p>"That was more than fifty years ago," said he. "And here I am, yet." - -<p>As he went out at the door he met a friend, and turned and introduced him -to me, and the friend and I had a talk and a smoke. I spoke of the -previous conversation and said there was something very pathetic about this -half century of exile, and that I wished the L200 scheme had succeeded. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p178.jpg (67K)" src="images/p178.jpg" height="951" width="619"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>"With him? Oh, it did. It's not so sad a case. He is modest, and he -left out some of the particulars. The lad reached South Australia just -in time to help discover the Burra-Burra copper mines. They turned out -L700,000 in the first three years. Up to now they have yielded -L20,000,000. He has had his share. Before that boy had been in the -country two years he could have gone home and bought a village; he could -go now and buy a city, I think. No, there is nothing very pathetic about -his case. He and his copper arrived at just a handy time to save South -Australia. It had got mashed pretty flat under the collapse of a land -boom a while before." There it is again; picturesque -history—Australia's specialty. In 1829 South Australia hadn't a white man in it. -In 1836 the British Parliament erected it—still a solitude—into a -Province, and gave it a governor and other governmental machinery. -Speculators took hold, now, and inaugurated a vast land scheme, and -invited immigration, encouraging it with lurid promises of sudden wealth. -It was well worked in London; and bishops, statesmen, and all sorts of -people made a rush for the land company's shares. Immigrants soon began -to pour into the region of Adelaide and select town lots and farms in the -sand and the mangrove swamps by the sea. The crowds continued to come, -prices of land rose high, then higher and still higher, everybody was -prosperous and happy, the boom swelled into gigantic proportions. A -village of sheet iron huts and clapboard sheds sprang up in the sand, and -in these wigwams fashion made display; richly-dressed ladies played on -costly pianos, London swells in evening dress and patent-leather boots -were abundant, and this fine society drank champagne, and in other ways -conducted itself in this capital of humble sheds as it had been -accustomed to do in the aristocratic quarters of the metropolis of the -world. The provincial government put up expensive buildings for its own -use, and a palace with gardens for the use of its governor. The governor -had a guard, and maintained a court. Roads, wharves, and hospitals were -built. All this on credit, on paper, on wind, on inflated and fictitious -values—on the boom's moonshine, in fact. This went on handsomely during -four or five years. Then all of a sudden came a smash. Bills for a huge -amount drawn by the governor upon the Treasury were dishonored, the land -company's credit went up in smoke, a panic followed, values fell with a -rush, the frightened immigrants seized their gripsacks and fled to other -lands, leaving behind them a good imitation of a solitude, where lately -had been a buzzing and populous hive of men. - -<p>Adelaide was indeed almost empty; its population had fallen to 3,000. -During two years or more the death-trance continued. Prospect of revival -there was none; hope of it ceased. Then, as suddenly as the paralysis -had come, came the resurrection from it. Those astonishingly rich copper -mines were discovered, and the corpse got up and danced. - -<p>The wool production began to grow; grain-raising followed—followed so -vigorously, too, that four or five years after the copper discovery, this -little colony, which had had to import its breadstuffs formerly, and pay -hard prices for them—once $50 a barrel for flour—had become an exporter -of grain. - -<p>The prosperities continued. After many years Providence, desiring to -show especial regard for New South Wales and exhibit loving interest in -its welfare which should certify to all nations the recognition of that -colony's conspicuous righteousness and distinguished well-deserving, -conferred upon it that treasury of inconceivable riches, Broken Hill; and -South Australia went over the border and took it, giving thanks. - -<p>Among our passengers was an American with a unique vocation. Unique is a -strong word, but I use it justifiably if I did not misconceive what the -American told me; for I understood him to say that in the world there was -not another man engaged in the business which he was following. He was -buying the kangaroo-skin crop; buying all of it, both the Australian crop -and the Tasmanian; and buying it for an American house in New York. The -prices were not high, as there was no competition, but the year's -aggregate of skins would cost him L30,000. I had had the idea that the -kangaroo was about extinct in Tasmania and well thinned out on the -continent. In America the skins are tanned and made into shoes. After -the tanning, the leather takes a new name—which I have forgotten—I only -remember that the new name does not indicate that the kangaroo furnishes -the leather. There was a German competition for a while, some years ago, -but that has ceased. The Germans failed to arrive at the secret of -tanning the skins successfully, and they withdrew from the business. Now -then, I suppose that I have seen a man whose occupation is really -entitled to bear that high epithet—unique. And I suppose that there is -not another occupation in the world that is restricted to the hands of a -sole person. I can think of no instance of it. There is more than one -Pope, there is more than one Emperor, there is even more than one living -god, walking upon the earth and worshiped in all sincerity by large -populations of men. I have seen and talked with two of these Beings -myself in India, and I have the autograph of one of them. It can come -good, by and by, I reckon, if I attach it to a "permit." - -<p>Approaching Adelaide we dismounted from the train, as the French say, and -were driven in an open carriage over the hills and along their slopes to -the city. It was an excursion of an hour or two, and the charm of it -could not be overstated, I think. The road wound around gaps and gorges, -and offered all varieties of scenery and prospect—mountains, crags, -country homes, gardens, forests—color, color, color everywhere, and the -air fine and fresh, the skies blue, and not a shred of cloud to mar the -downpour of the brilliant sunshine. And finally the mountain gateway -opened, and the immense plain lay spread out below and stretching away -into dim distances on every hand, soft and delicate and dainty and -beautiful. On its near edge reposed the city. - -<p>We descended and entered. There was nothing to remind one of the humble -capital, of huts and sheds of the long-vanished day of the land-boom. -No, this was a modern city, with wide streets, compactly built; with fine -homes everywhere, embowered in foliage and flowers, and with imposing -masses of public buildings nobly grouped and architecturally beautiful. - -<p>There was prosperity, in the air; for another boom was on. Providence, -desiring to show especial regard for the neighboring colony on the west -called Western Australia—and exhibit loving interest in its welfare -which should certify to all nations the recognition of that colony's -conspicuous righteousness and distinguished well-deserving, had recently -conferred upon it that majestic treasury of golden riches, Coolgardie; -and now South Australia had gone around the corner and taken it, giving -thanks. Everything comes to him who is patient and good, and waits. - -<p>But South Australia deserves much, for apparently she is a hospitable -home for every alien who chooses to come; and for his religion, too. -She has a population, as per the latest census, of only 320,000-odd, and -yet her varieties of religion indicate the presence within her borders of -samples of people from pretty nearly every part of the globe you can -think of. Tabulated, these varieties of religion make a remarkable show. -One would have to go far to find its match. I copy here this -cosmopolitan curiosity, and it comes from the published census: - -<center> -<table summary=""> -<tr><td> - - - -<tr><td>Church of England, </td><td>89,271</td></tr> -<tr><td>Roman Catholic, </td><td>47,179</td></tr> -<tr><td>Wesleyan, </td><td>49,159</td></tr> -<tr><td>Lutheran, </td><td>23,328</td></tr> -<tr><td>Presbyterian, </td><td>18,206</td></tr> -<tr><td>Congregationalist, </td><td>11,882</td></tr> -<tr><td>Bible Christian, </td><td>15,762</td></tr> -<tr><td>Primitive Methodist, </td><td>11,654</td></tr> -<tr><td>Baptist, </td><td>17,547</td></tr> -<tr><td>Christian Brethren, </td><td>465</td></tr> -<tr><td>Methodist New Connexion, </td><td> 39</td></tr> -<tr><td>Unitarian, </td><td>688</td></tr> -<tr><td>Church of Christ, </td><td> 3,367</td></tr> -<tr><td>Society of Friends, </td><td> 100</td></tr> -<tr><td>Salvation Army, </td><td>4,356</td></tr> -<tr><td>New Jerusalem Church, </td><td>168</td></tr> -<tr><td>Jews, </td><td> 840</td></tr> -<tr><td>Protestants (undefined), </td><td> 5,532</td></tr> -<tr><td>Mohammedans, </td><td>299</td></tr> -<tr><td>Confucians, etc, </td><td>3,884</td></tr> -<tr><td>Other religions, </td><td>1,719</td></tr> -<tr><td>Object, </td><td>6,940</td></tr> -<tr><td>Not stated, </td><td>8,046</td></tr> -<tr><td> </td></tr> -<tr><td>Total,</td><td>320,431</td></tr> - - - -</table> -</center> - - - -<p> -The item in the above list "Other religions" includes the following as -returned: - -<center> -<table summary=""> -<tr><td> - -Agnostics, -Atheists, -Believers in Christ, -Buddhists, -Calvinists, -Christadelphians, -Christians, -Christ's Chapel, -Christian Israelites, -Christian Socialists, -Church of God, -Cosmopolitans, -Deists, -Evangelists, -Exclusive Brethren, -Free Church, -Free Methodists, -Freethinkers, -Followers of Christ, -Gospel Meetings, -Greek Church, -Infidels, -Maronites, -Memnonists, -Moravians, -Mormons, -Naturalists, -Orthodox, -Others (indefinite), -Pagans, -Pantheists, -Plymouth Brethren, -Rationalists, -Reformers, -Secularists, -Seventh-day Adventists, -Shaker, -Shintoists, -Spiritualists, -Theosophists, -Town (City) Mission, -Welsh Church, -Huguenot, -Hussite, -Zoroastrians, -Zwinglian, - -</td></tr> -</table> -</center> - - -<p> -About 64 roads to the other world. You see how healthy the religious -atmosphere is. Anything can live in it. Agnostics, Atheists, -Freethinkers, Infidels, Mormons, Pagans, Indefinites they are all there. -And all the big sects of the world can do more than merely live in it: -they can spread, flourish, prosper. All except the Spiritualists and the -Theosophists. That is the most curious feature of this curious table. -What is the matter with the specter? Why do they puff him away? He is a -welcome toy everywhere else in the world. - - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p183.jpg (24K)" src="images/p183.jpg" height="437" width="625"> -</center> - - -<br><br><br><br> -<h2><a name="ch19"></a><br><br>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> - -<p><i>Pity is for the living, Envy is for the dead.</i> - <center>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</center> - -<p>The successor of the sheet-iron hamlet of the mangrove marshes has that -other Australian specialty, the Botanical Gardens. We cannot have these -paradises. The best we could do would be to cover a vast acreage under -glass and apply steam heat. But it would be inadequate, the lacks would -still be so great: the confined sense, the sense of suffocation, the -atmospheric dimness, the sweaty heat—these would all be there, in place -of the Australian openness to the sky, the sunshine and the breeze. -Whatever will grow under glass with us will flourish rampantly out of -doors in Australia.—[The greatest heat in Victoria, that there is an -authoritative record of, was at Sandhurst, in January, 1862. The -thermometer then registered 117 degrees in the shade. In January, 1880, -the heat at Adelaide, South Australia, was 172 degrees in the sun.] - -<p>When the white man came the continent was nearly as poor, in variety of -vegetation, as the desert of Sahara; now it has everything that grows on -the earth. In fact, not Australia only, but all Australasia has levied -tribute upon the flora of the rest of the world; and wherever one goes -the results appear, in gardens private and public, in the woodsy walls of -the highways, and in even the forests. If you see a curious or beautiful -tree or bush or flower, and ask about it, the people, answering, usually -name a foreign country as the place of its origin—India, Africa, Japan, -China, England, America, Java, Sumatra, New Guinea, Polynesia, and so on. - -<p>In the Zoological Gardens of Adelaide I saw the only laughing jackass -that ever showed any disposition to be courteous to me. This one opened -his head wide and laughed like a demon; or like a maniac who was consumed -with humorous scorn over a cheap and degraded pun. It was a very human -laugh. If he had been out of sight I could have believed that the -laughter came from a man. It is an odd-looking bird, with a head and -beak that are much too large for its body. In time man will exterminate -the rest of the wild creatures of Australia, but this one will probably -survive, for man is his friend and lets him alone. Man always has a good -reason for his charities towards wild things, human or animal when he has -any. In this case the bird is spared because he kills snakes. If L. J. -will take my advice he will not kill all of them. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p185.jpg (47K)" src="images/p185.jpg" height="617" width="453"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>In that garden I also saw the wild Australian dog—the dingo. He was a -beautiful creature—shapely, graceful, a little wolfish in some of his -aspects, but with a most friendly eye and sociable disposition. The -dingo is not an importation; he was present in great force when the -whites first came to the continent. It may be that he is the oldest dog -in the universe; his origin, his descent, the place where his ancestors -first appeared, are as unknown and as untraceable as are the camel's. -He is the most precious dog in the world, for he does not bark. But in -an evil hour he got to raiding the sheep-runs to appease his hunger, and -that sealed his doom. He is hunted, now, just as if he were a wolf. -He has been sentenced to extermination, and the sentence will be carried -out. This is all right, and not objectionable. The world was made for -man—the white man. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p187.jpg (66K)" src="images/p187.jpg" height="1069" width="537"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>South Australia is confusingly named. All of the colonies have a -southern exposure except one—Queensland. Properly speaking, South -Australia is middle Australia. It extends straight up through the center -of the continent like the middle board in a center-table. It is 2,000 -miles high, from south to north, and about a third as wide. A wee little -spot down in its southeastern corner contains eight or nine-tenths of its -population; the other one or two-tenths are elsewhere—as elsewhere as -they could be in the United States with all the country between Denver -and Chicago, and Canada and the Gulf of Mexico to scatter over. There is -plenty of room. - -<p>A telegraph line stretches straight up north through that 2,000 miles of -wilderness and desert from Adelaide to Port Darwin on the edge of the -upper ocean. South Australia built the line; and did it in 1871-2 when -her population numbered only 185,000. It was a great work; for there -were no roads, no paths; 1,300 miles of the route had been traversed but -once before by white men; provisions, wire, and poles had to be carried -over immense stretches of desert; wells had to be dug along the route to -supply the men and cattle with water. - -<p>A cable had been previously laid from Port Darwin to Java and thence to -India, and there was telegraphic communication with England from India. -And so, if Adelaide could make connection with Port Darwin it meant -connection with the whole world. The enterprise succeeded. One could -watch the London markets daily, now; the profit to the wool-growers of -Australia was instant and enormous. - -<p>A telegram from Melbourne to San Francisco covers approximately 20,000 -miles—the equivalent of five-sixths of the way around the globe. It has -to halt along the way a good many times and be repeated; still, but -little time is lost. These halts, and the distances between them, are -here tabulated.—[From "Round the Empire." (George R. Parkin), all but -the last two.] - -<center> -<table summary=""> -<tr><td> - - - </td><td>Miles.</td></tr><tr><td> - </td></tr><tr><td> -Melbourne-Mount Gambier, </td><td>300</td></tr><tr><td> -Mount Gambier-Adelaide,</td><td>270</td></tr><tr><td> -Adelaide-Port Augusta,</td><td>200</td></tr><tr><td> -Port Augusta-Alice Springs,</td><td>1,036</td></tr><tr><td> -Alice Springs-Port Darwin,</td><td>898</td></tr><tr><td> -Port Darwin-Banjoewangie, </td><td>1,150</td></tr><tr><td> -Banjoewangie-Batavia,</td><td>480</td></tr><tr><td> -Batavia-Singapore,</td><td>553</td></tr><tr><td> -Singapore-Penang,</td><td>399</td></tr><tr><td> -Penang-Madras,</td><td>1,280</td></tr><tr><td> -Madras-Bombay,</td><td>650</td></tr><tr><td> -Bombay-Aden,</td><td>1,662</td></tr><tr><td> -Aden-Suez,</td><td>1,346</td></tr><tr><td> -Suez-Alexandria,</td><td>224</td></tr><tr><td> -Alexandria-Malta,</td><td>828</td></tr><tr><td> -Malta-Gibraltar,</td><td>1,008</td></tr><tr><td> -Gibraltar-Falmouth,</td><td>1,061</td></tr><tr><td> -Falmouth-London,</td><td>350</td></tr><tr><td> -London-New York,</td><td>2,500</td></tr><tr><td> -New York-San Francisco,</td><td>3,500 - -</td></tr> -</table> -</center> - - -<p> -I was in Adelaide again, some months later, and saw the multitudes gather -in the neighboring city of Glenelg to commemorate the Reading of the -Proclamation—in 1836—which founded the Province. If I have at any time -called it a Colony, I withdraw the discourtesy. It is not a Colony, it -is a Province; and officially so. Moreover, it is the only one so named -in Australasia. There was great enthusiasm; it was the Province's -national holiday, its Fourth of July, so to speak. It is the pre-eminent -holiday; and that is saying much, in a country where they seem to have a -most un-English mania for holidays. Mainly they are workingmen's -holidays; for in South Australia the workingman is sovereign; his vote is -the desire of the politician—indeed, it is the very breath of the -politician's being; the parliament exists to deliver the will of the -workingman, and the government exists to execute it. The workingman is a -great power everywhere in Australia, but South Australia is his paradise. -He has had a hard time in this world, and has earned a paradise. I am -glad he has found it. The holidays there are frequent enough to be -bewildering to the stranger. I tried to get the hang of the system, but -was not able to do it. - -<p>You have seen that the Province is tolerant, religious-wise. It is so -politically, also. One of the speakers at the Commemoration banquet—the -Minister of Public Works-was an American, born and reared in New England. -There is nothing narrow about the Province, politically, or in any other -way that I know of. Sixty-four religions and a Yankee cabinet minister. -No amount of horse-racing can damn this community. - -<p>The mean temperature of the Province is 62 deg. The death-rate is 13 in -the 1,000—about half what it is in the city of New York, I should think, -and New York is a healthy city. Thirteen is the death-rate for the -average citizen of the Province, but there seems to be no death-rate for -the old people. There were people at the Commemoration banquet who could -remember Cromwell. There were six of them. These Old Settlers had all -been present at the original Reading of the Proclamation, in 1836. They -showed signs of the blightings and blastings of time, in their outward -aspect, but they were young within; young and cheerful, and ready to -talk; ready to talk, and talk all you wanted; in their turn, and out of -it. They were down for six speeches, and they made 42. The governor and -the cabinet and the mayor were down for 42 speeches, and they made 6. -They have splendid grit, the Old Settlers, splendid staying power. But -they do not hear well, and when they see the mayor going through motions -which they recognize as the introducing of a speaker, they think they are -the one, and they all get up together, and begin to respond, in the most -animated way; and the more the mayor gesticulates, and shouts "Sit down! -Sit down!" the more they take it for applause, and the more excited and -reminiscent and enthusiastic they get; and next, when they see the whole -house laughing and crying, three of them think it is about the bitter -old-time hardships they are describing, and the other three think the -laughter is caused by the jokes they have been uncorking—jokes of the -vintage of 1836—and then the way they do go on! And finally when ushers -come and plead, and beg, and gently and reverently crowd them down into -their seats, they say, "Oh, I'm not tired—I could bang along a week!" -and they sit there looking simple and childlike, and gentle, and proud of -their oratory, and wholly unconscious of what is going on at the other -end of the room. And so one of the great dignitaries gets a chance, and -begins his carefully prepared speech, impressively and with solemnity— - -<blockquote><blockquote> -<p> "When we, now great and prosperous and powerful, bow our heads in - reverent wonder in the contemplation of those sublimities of energy, - of wisdom, of forethought, of——" -</blockquote></blockquote> - -<p>Up come the immortal six again, in a body, with a joyous "Hey, I've -thought of another one!" and at it they go, with might and main, hearing -not a whisper of the pandemonium that salutes them, but taking all the -visible violences for applause, as before, and hammering joyously away -till the imploring ushers pray them into their seats again. And a pity, -too; for those lovely old boys did so enjoy living their heroic youth -over, in these days of their honored antiquity; and certainly the things -they had to tell were usually worth the telling and the hearing. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p190.jpg (52K)" src="images/p190.jpg" height="983" width="541"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>It was a stirring spectacle; stirring in more ways than one, for it was -amazingly funny, and at the same time deeply pathetic; for they had seen -so much, these time-worn veterans, and had suffered so much; and had -built so strongly and well, and laid the foundations of their -commonwealth so deep, in liberty and tolerance; and had lived to see the -structure rise to such state and dignity and hear themselves so praised -for their honorable work. - -<p>One of these old gentlemen told me some things of interest afterward; -things about the aboriginals, mainly. He thought them -intelligent—remarkably so in some directions—and he said that along with their -unpleasant qualities they had some exceedingly good ones; and he -considered it a great pity that the race had died out. He instanced -their invention of the boomerang and the "weet-weet" as evidences of -their brightness; and as another evidence of it he said he had never seen -a white man who had cleverness enough to learn to do the miracles with -those two toys that the aboriginals achieved. He said that even the -smartest whites had been obliged to confess that they could not learn the -trick of the boomerang in perfection; that it had possibilities which -they could not master. The white man could not control its motions, -could not make it obey him; but the aboriginal could. He told me some -wonderful things—some almost incredible things—which he had seen the -blacks do with the boomerang and the weet-weet. They have been confirmed -to me since by other early settlers and by trustworthy books. - -<br><br><br><br> -<center><img alt="p194.jpg (37K)" src="images/p194.jpg" height="487" width="620"> -</center> -<br><br><br><br> - -<p>It is contended—and may be said to be conceded—that the boomerang was -known to certain savage tribes in Europe in Roman times. In support of -this, Virgil and two other Roman poets are quoted. It is also contended -that it was known to the ancient Egyptians. - -<p>One of two things, either some one with a boomerang -arrived in Australia in the days of antiquity before European knowledge -of the thing had been lost, or the Australian aboriginal reinvented it. -It will take some time to find out which of these two propositions is the -fact. But there is no hurry. - - -<br><br><br><br> - - - -<center> -<table summary="" cellPadding=4 border=3> -<tr><td> - <a href="p1.htm">Previous Part</a> -</td><td> - <a href="2895-h.htm">Main Index</a> -</td><td> - <a href="p3.htm">Next Part</a> - -</td></tr> -</table> -</center> - -</body> -</html> - - - |