1847 - Angas, G. F. Savage Life and Scenes in Australia and New Zealand [Vol I.] - CHAPTER I: THE VOYAGE FROM ENGLAND TO SOUTH AUSTRALIA.

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SAVAGE LIFE AND SCENES

IN

AUSTRALIA AND NEW ZEALAND.

CHAPTER I.

IT was in the month of September that I left England, when the golden tints of autumn had overspread the landscape with their mellow touch. No day had ever before appeared so lovely as the one on which we embarked. There was a clear frosty morning, and the sun rose without a cloud; the summer flowers still filled the gardens, and the apples and mulberries lay scattered over the dewy grass-plats, with the early sunshine glittering upon them. I opened my bedroom window; the air was balmy and fresh, and the blackbird sang melodiously; it seemed as if everything was more beautiful than usual, --perhaps it was because I was going to leave it all so soon.

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The last parting sounds from the shore were the gentle and distant tollings of the Sabbath bells. Were ever Sabbath bells so full of meaning before? They almost appeared to murmur to the parting ship--

The next Sabbath dawn rose upon us in the sunny latitudes of Portugal, nine hundred miles from our native land; our gallant vessel speeding through the waters, dashing back the snowy foam into its own blue depths, and with not a living thing to break the boundless line of the horizon.

[Off the Lizard, the first week at sea.]

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The most picturesque interior on board a vessel is the forecastle, belonging to the seamen. The descent through the hatchway is by a steep ladder, and in the centre of the apartment hangs an old rusty lamp, fed with whale-oil, dropping a copious distillation on the shoulders of those who pass beneath it. The dim flame has scarcely strength to penetrate its furthest recesses, where dubious twilight gives scope to the fancy to supply other rows of hammocks as a continuation to those slung, like white canvass boats, from the deck above. A sailor prides himself upon his hammock: moreover, it is a snug thing; it is his constant bed, and may be, ofttimes, his shroud, when his resting-place is the deep wide sea. The lower-deck, kept bright by constant scrubbing, is surrounded with a semicircle of chests of all descriptions, though varying but little in size. It is evening, and the "watch below" are assembled, pipe in mouth, without a thought of care, listening to the music of a violin. I should like Bill Wilson's mother to have seen her boy then: every inch a sailor; a brave, free-hearted, careless one; half-sitting, half-lying on his sea-chest, and drumming his fingers to the merry tune, as happy as a king. Alas, poor boy! he dreamed not of the dark and troubled future.

Lat. 33 deg. N. The setting sun seems to add new splendours to his pavilion of glory, in the transparent atmosphere of these latitudes. Streams of molten gold have streaked half the horizon with their intense brilliancy, brighter than the glow of

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ten thousand pyrotechnic fires bursting athwart the sky. There poured such a flood of living crimson around, that every blue wave changed from the hue of the sapphire to that of the amethyst, and the whole arch of heaven was full of purple light. A rainbow, like a reflex of the sun's parting smile, swept its gay colours across the eastern clouds, and the pageantry of the sky was gone; then came the calm, grey night, and the awful stillness of the ocean, as it slept beneath a shower of moonbeams. Surely if there were sea-nymphs, or green-haired mermaidens, they would have chosen just such a glorious night for their syren-singing.

The little petrels, or Mother Cary's chickens, are constantly careering about the vessel, now skimming through the sunshine, and now tripping along, gently touching the waves with their little black feet, as though they received fresh vigour by contact with the element, or fluttering, moth-like, above some object in the water. As I leant over the vessel's side, watching these ocean birds, the following stanzas rose to my mind, and I could not refrain from putting them on paper.

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On the 7th October we saw land. The sun had just risen, and darkly grey against the bright east the high peaks of Porto-Santa were defined by a sharp cutting outline. Beyond us, to the south-

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west, wrapped in the mantle of fog and clouds that had been gathered during the night by the freshening wind, rose the far-famed Isle of Madeira; the shroud of vapour partially cleared away, and revealed to the sunshine this gem of the ocean. Still, masses of heavy cloud lingered around the mountain tops, and the central peak was wholly concealed. As the vessel glided along in full sail, the land on both sides presented ever-varying points of view; the crisp blue waters were crested with foam, and the bright sunshine chasing away the dull fog, lit up scene after scene of enchanting beauty. It appeared as though we had reached some paradise belonging only to the regions of fancy. It was delicious to watch the sunlight gild the rugged peak, throwing dark shadows along the mountain glen--to see the white cottages sprinkled about the valleys, and the green vineyards sloping down as it were from the bosom of the clouds.

The south-east portion of the coast is girt by stupendous cliffs and sharply pointed rocks, against which a high surf runs. Beyond these rise, till their summits are concealed by the clouds, vast mountain slopes, scattered with forests and vineyards; where we could discern, as on a miniature model, villages, cottages, and convents, and trace the paths along the winding glens, and the vivid green patches of the gardens. The effects of light and shade and mist on the landscape were surprisingly grand, and all looked gay in the morning sunshine;

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grampuses bounding through the waves, and the seafowl skimming round, imparted life to the scene.

Three islands called Desertas lie to the south-east of Madeira; they are high, and rise abruptly from the sea, whilst their summits are jagged and serrated in a peculiar manner. A sharp, isolated column of rock, resembling a ninepin, occurs at the extremity of the northernmost island: they all present a barren and desolate aspect.

We sighted several of the Canary Islands. On the morning of the 9th, Palma was visible, distant 15 miles; owing to the haze, its only indication was a huge shadowy mass, scarcely distinguishable from the atmosphere, rising to an immense height from the sea. On the 11th, we fell in with the north-east trade wind in latitude 26 deg. N. The moon rose of a deep and clear amber colour, and though now waning, flashed its powerful rays, like a second sun, from behind occasional masses of cloud. The crisp indigo-blue waves, with their moon-spangled foam, the purity of the milky way, the unusual brilliancy of the planets, and the strong yet balmy-breathing wind, are characteristic of the nights we now enjoy. More congenial than the scorching heat of noontide, with its hot and misty glare, is the reviving breath of the atmosphere after sunset, when down comes the awning on deck, and a host of bright stars gem the canopy of the sky.

On the 13th, we crossed the tropic of Cancer. Seated on the bowsprit, I have been watching our

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progress through the waters. The white waves are dashing back as the vessel's prow cleaves its way through their midst; no smoky dull atmosphere is around--no chill and gloomy blast: all is light and sunshine; above, around, beyond, to the farthest verge of the horizon, the blue sky and the blue sea seem to smile at each other. Southward, a blaze of light and heat marks the noontide sun flashing his tropical splendour around; and thin clouds, like specks of wandering down--

steal most gently along the sky. There are gannets wheeling on their strong pinions, in pursuit of the timorous flying fish, as they leap up to escape the jaws of the green and golden dolphin. A bird, supposed by some to be a grey parrot, settled on the fore top-gallant-yard this afternoon, but it was only a little downy owl; and since the moon rose, I have watched it flying briskly around the masts, vainly searching for the moths and bats of its own ancestral trees in Africa.

Within the tropics we frequently observe the beautiful Phasalia or "Portuguese man-of-war:" its transparent membrane or sail is of a bright rose colour. It is a delicate toy with which the breezes sport, yet it skims on unhurt, for it is one of ocean's progeny.

17th October. --The islands of San Nicholas and San Antonio are in sight: the more northerly of

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the Cape de Verdes. Sunrise was a magnificent spectacle: rugged masses of fleecy gold, strangely hurled about the sun, were succeeded by lines and streaks of exquisite splendour, with mountains of dark cloud; and, in another hour, the might of the tropical day had chased back the morning vapours, pouring an unchecked flood of light over the sea.

It was evening as our vessel rapidly neared the rugged coast of St. Jago. One vast and lofty peak towered high above the others in the shape of a huge, irregular pyramid. All eyes were directed towards the mountains as we sailed along abreast of the land, distant from the shore not more than four or five miles. It was an enchanting sight: the irregular and wildly-broken peaks, hurled and piled in careless grandeur one above another as they stretched inland, presented a more striking outline than the heights of Madeira. There we sat in a row, mounted on the top of the longboat, feasting our eyes with the pleasant sight of land; rendered more delicious by the hope that in a few hours we might be treading those shores which now appeared to us like some oasis in the desert, or some bright dream realised. As we watched with feelings of admiration, fresh peaks, and glens, and ridges of golden green, presenting themselves in succession to our view; gradually they grew darker: the mists began to settle in the deep valleys, the outline of every mountain became sharp and cutting, and a thousand rich mellow tints of brown and purple

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spread over their steep sides as the full burst of a tropical sunset flashed up its splendours behind them, leaving a background like glowing amber, above which lay masses of heavy grey clouds looking as dense as though they were charged with the thunders of a tornado. Peak after peak yielded up its parting gleam, cast from the setting sun, and melted into the repose of night so rapidly, that almost before we were aware of it, the stars shone out, and darkness surrounded us: not heralded, as in our northern lands, with the gently gloaming twilight that makes the day steal imperceptibly into the night, but sudden and impetuous, stretching like a vast extinguisher over the bosom of the ocean.

Before the first gleam of day-break I was on deck. We were at least twelve miles from our destination at Porto Praya, which lies at the southern point of the island, in a small bay. The wind was light, and I feared we should hardly reach the port before noon. Telescopes were in great request. The mountains seemed, if possible, more beautiful and inviting than they did on the preceding evening. A grove of tall cocoa-nut trees, and a few scattered date-palms, reminded us that we were approaching the climate of tropical Africa. But little cultivated ground was visible, and flats of elevated land above the shores were covered with parched grass, on which the cloudless sun poured down its withering and fervid rays. Clusters of pulga bushes sprinkled the sides of the valleys with patches of a vivid green

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colour; higher up the mountains might be discovered tracks of forest and scrubby brake interspersed with bold grey rocks; and above all rose a conical peak like that of a volcano--which, I believe, is an extinct crater, and the highest point in the island--with thin vaporous clouds hanging round its sides, and spreading along the summits of the less elevated mountains. Indeed, the whole island presents volcanic appearances, and lava soil is noticeable in many places. Large flocks of cattle and goats were scattered over the sunny, brown-looking plains above the sea, and small clusters of thatched huts constituted the farms to which they belonged. The surf, rolled in by the north-east trade-wind, beats violently against the shore along the whole of the coast; and, as we rounded the south-east point, the rocks assumed a bolder form, strewn at their base with black fragments, over which the surf boiled like a whirlpool, dashing up to a great height.

On rounding the point, we came in sight of the town of Porto Praya; which is built on an eminence of rock overlooking the bay, exhibiting a row of wooden houses painted white and buff colour, and roofed with red or white tiles: to the right extended the cane-thatched huts of the Black Town. The descent from the town is steep, and leads to a fine shingle beach; on the left the shore is sandy, where a stream of water runs into the sea. Cocoa-nut trees were scattered pretty thickly along the water's edge, till the beach terminated in barren sand-hills

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with a rocky bluff, against which the angry breakers lashed with violence. In the background rose the mountains, clustered in a variety of picturesque and romantic forms. The glow of a tropical noon gilded the whole. The feathery leaves of the cocoa-trees moved gracefully in the air, large hawks hovered fearfully around us, and all had a strange and foreign air, as we cast anchor about half a mile from the shore. After an hour's delay, the Consul came off to us in his boat, under the shade of a huge umbrella, bringing with him the health and customs' officers. The usual ceremonies being over, we were permitted to land. The gig was lowered alongside, and the chair rigged for the ladies and children to go ashore. No sooner had the ship's boat pulled off towards the land than other craft came round us, with oranges and cocoa-nuts for sale, eager to convey equally eager passengers at the rate of sixpence ahead. Several of us descended into one of these boats, and were rowed safely enough till we reached the commencement of a surf, about a dozen yards from the shore. Instead of landing us at the rocks as they should have done, they pulled across to the sandy shore on the left of the town, fully a mile from the ship. A whole group of negroes were drawn up on the sand awaiting our arrival, and no sooner had we entered the breakers than we were swamped in the surf, and drenched from head to foot. In a moment eight or ten black fellows were round us, up to their waist in the foam, with no other artificial

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adornment than the beads round their necks. At first we imagined that they were going to carry the boat with ourselves in it upon their shoulders to the shore, instead of which it appeared that we were to mount their backs, whilst they waded with us through the surf. In an instant we were all astride upon their shoulders, each man triumphantly bearing off his load as fast as possible. We presented a most ludicrous sight, all laughing at one another, and several were on the point of upsetting. They put us down on the hot sands that extended some little way above high water-mark, beyond which grew a trailing plant of great beauty, called by the natives la coccoon. It grows about eighteen inches high, with a round leaf, and a fleshy-jointed stem ligneous near the root, the blossom convolvulus-like, and displaying a disc seven or eight inches in circumference, of a brilliant lilac colour. We plucked the delicate blossoms almost instinctively, as if to admire them still further by the sense of touch, though they withered almost immediately in our hands. We met several negresses on the shore in their gay costume, consisting of a petticoat of printed blue or brown cotton, worn tightly round the hips, and reaching to the ankles in loose folds, a portion of it being twisted up at the waist, and descending on the left side like a scarf. A white body, or jacket without sleeves, and a red or yellow kerchief tied round the head, with necklaces, ear-rings, and silver bracelets on one arm, completed their dress. Goats'

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skins are an article of trade here with America, and bundles of them lay on the sands ready for exportation.

On reaching the stream we directed our course inland, following its banks amongst the luxuriant foliage of cocoa-nuts and bananas, with a profusion of la coccoon blossoms starring the surface of the ground. We hired one of the negro boys called "Jokim," who accompanied us as a guide, promising his services all day, first for three shillings and afterwards for one. But it was useless hiring a single lad: we were fated to have them all for our guides, whether we liked it or not, to the number of seven. One carried my insect-net, another the forceps, a third the collecting box, a fourth my sketch-book, and so on; thus escorted, we sallied forth with our negro phalanx. The stream, which here empties itself into the sea, is the residue of a mountain torrent, after the greater portion of it has been led off for the use of the town; where it is received into a tank or fountain--a deep translucent basin, brimming with the cooling element--whence the damsels of Porto Praya dip their water, in calabashes and jars, which they carry on their heads. Brilliant tropical butterflies floated swiftly through the sultry air, now sporting like spirits of light and beauty round the tops of the palm trees, and now chasing each other amongst the broad leaves of the banana and the plantain. Other species were hovering about the pulga bushes, or expanding their gay wings on the mimosa thorn, or the drooping leaf of the sugar-

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cane. There had been recent heavy rains, and in some places the ground was exhaling moisture, and cracking on the surface with the heat of the sun. The musquitoes along this glen were numerous and troublesome; the stream was stagnant in places, emitting unwholesome exhalations; huge sows wallowed in the mire with their numerous litters; and wasps and other noxious insects were buzzing about us continually.

Wishing for some cocoa-nut milk we knocked at a garden door by the wayside, leading through a shed into a luxuriant garden of rich black soil, filled with lofty cocoa-nut trees, bananas, tamarinds, papaws, mammees, and other fruits. Presently a little black fellow, in a state of nudity, climbed dexterously up a cocoa-nut tree, clinging with arms and legs round the tall trunk of the palm, when down came the heavy green nuts bump upon the ground. Beneath the shade of a spreading fig-tree, we rested ourselves on some felled dates, whilst our young guides were busy dashing the nuts against the stone wall to break the green husk; they pricked a small hole in each, and pouring the colourless milk into a calabash gave it to us to drink. Behind us grew a plantation of millet, and vines were trained along over bamboos, but they bore nothing but unripe grapes. Seeing a fine goat and her kid outside the hut, we explained to the old negro man that we wished for some milk, when two boys laid hold of the udder and commenced milking her into an old

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teapot without a spout, whilst the man held her by the horns. The teapot was filled with froth, and the difficulty now remained how to get at it, for the rim rendered it next to an impossibility; however it was too great a treat to refuse, and though the teapot had evidently been used for every purpose except the right one (for tea is not drunk here), and the milk had flowed through the little black hands, still we enjoyed the draught as a luxury after our sea voyage. We next tasted the bananas and the papaws, which they gathered off the trees; the latter fruit resembles a soft pumpkin, being of a reddish or yellowish-green colour, about six inches long, and grows in clusters at the top of a high stem, above which branch out the leaves, something like those of a gigantic mallow. This fruit is anything but pleasant; a soft juicy pulp surrounds a mass of globular seeds, like mustard-seed, very hot and disagreeable; the pulp is the part eaten, but the skin has a fetid odour which pervades the whole. The blossom resembles yellowish wax, is of a jessamine form, and grows out of the top of the trunk, without a stalk; it emits a faint primrose-like scent. The back part of the town overlooks this valley of vegetation, and the owners of the gardens sit at their doors and look down beholding all that goes forward there. The negro who sold us the fruit pointed to his master who was sitting in a distant verandah upon the cliff above. A well of clear water stood near the entrance of the garden. It was thatched

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with canes, and the water was raised by means of a large wheel set round with red earthen jars, placed one after another, so that as the wheel revolved they kept coming up full.

We followed the course of the stream till we reached another large well, where several negro women were engaged in washing. They beat the clothes with a baton as the continental Europeans do. The gay bright hues of their cotton dresses imparted a liveliness to the scene, which was here very picturesque and pleasing. This valley runs a long way inland, the vegetation marking its course by a belt of richer green that mingles with the golden brown of the hills on either side. As we advanced, troops of locusts rose up from the ground at every step, reminding me of the multitudes of these insects I had encountered when crossing the arid plains between Syracuse and Catania in Sicily; then old Alosco was my escort, now I had Jokims and Johnies, Marsalins, Vincents, Penas, and many more--an army with which one might have penetrated into the opposite forests of the shores of Senegambia. We ascended a steep winding path that led back to the town, by the side of which stood a wooden crucifix, supported by a rude heap of stones.

As the island belongs to the Portuguese, the prevailing religion is the Papist faith; though but few priests, or in fact any other visible demonstra-

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tion of their creed are to be seen, excepting a chapel, and the wooden crucifix.

About two leagues inland lies Trinidad, where the Governor resides. In its neighbourhood oranges and lemons, for which the island is famous, are cultivated; as are also most of the articles which supply the market of Porto Praya. We now reached the commencement of the huts or cottages of the coloured population. They are chiefly square, substantial-looking sheds, built of rough stone one story high; but few contain a second or third apartment; a screen of canes being used as a partition. They are thatched with the leaves of the date palm, or with dried reeds. Inside there is no plastering; a hole in the wall serves for a cupboard, and the windows are merely square apertures, closed at night by a board that fits in as a shutter. The back door is usually opposite the entrance, so that in looking through the open doors of the cottages overhanging the glen, the eye is feasted with the refreshing sight of leafy bananas and cocoa-nut trees, shutting out the view. The streets consist of rows of these low cottages, varying but little in outward appearance; some are detached, but they are mostly built close to one another. Not a single wheel-carriage, cart, or conveyance of any description is to be seen in the streets, which have a dull and deserted appearance. The only beasts of burden are mules and asses, slung with paniers; and in this way the fruit, sugar-canes, poultry, and vege-

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tables brought from the interior are conveyed to the market.

We saw but one mode of travelling that was at all distinct from the plebeian style; an officer was riding out, seated on a mule, whilst a slave ran behind him, holding an umbrella over his head to keep off the rays of the sun. The shops consist of stores of various descriptions, but they are neither commodious nor well supplied. At one end of the town is the square, and in the centre of it stands a stone column, not very ornamental, nor classical, nor useful either. The houses surrounding it are in some instances two stories high, with large verandahs, and constitute the residences of the Portuguese inhabitants. The soil is a parched barren earth, scattered here and there with tufts of scanty grass. Porto Praya itself looks like a deserted village, through which some plague has swept its blighting influence; especially when the coloured people are lying asleep on stools outside their doors, or taking a siesta on the floor, while a solitary formal-looking Portuguese in military uniform is the only being that struts along the grass-grown streets during the heat of the mid-day sun. The women lay basking on narrow benches, apparently too indolent to turn their heads to obtain a view of the English strangers, and contentedly raising their eyes just during the moment of passing; though they were evidently inquisitive, still it was too much trouble for them to move, and the lazy eyeballs just

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rolled round mechanically from one corner of their orbits to the other, and all they did not take in during their revolution was probably to become a subject of speculation or nightly gossip. We visited the Portuguese inn, which they had the face to call an hotel; the room pour l'etranger was furnished with a table, a sofa, and a few crazy chairs, and the walls were hung with English and Portuguese prints of rather ancient dates; there was a picture of Mary Queen of Scots landing at Loch Leven Castle, and another of a monstrously stout Queen of Portugal. On one side was a door opening into a kind of store-room, filled with a confused medley of bottles, jars, bundles, &c, where probably the old Portuguese landlord kept his dollars hid away in some sly corner. Opposite this was the bedroom, with a mattress in each angle of the apartment; the rest of the floor being strewed with immense oranges. The landlord was evidently a character -- a short dark Portuguese, dressed in a long frock coat, with a navy cap and a gold band--and he looked at us, all the while thinking to himself how he could make the most of us. He could not speak English himself, but his interpreter, a knavish-looking boy about twelve years old, was as expert a rogue as the other. This little creature was lank and sallow, with very sharp black eyes; not like the mild love-speaking black eyes of the beautiful Sicilian, fringed with long shadowy lashes, but rolling like ripe sloes, and every glance was cun-

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ning. His dress consisted of an old white cotton garment with large red flowers upon it, something after the fashion of a dressing-gown; made, I imagine, out of his grandmother's skirt. At the window stood an intensely black slave, and near the door, playing a slow, melancholy air upon a guitar, sat a placid-looking Creole: he was perfectly blind, and the nails of his hand with which he touched the strings were half an inch long. We took a slight refreshment, for which they charged most exorbitantly. I asked them what they would require for a night's rest on the sofa, when the urchin here completed his roguery by asking us ten shillings. After telling him pretty plainly what I thought of him, we rejoined our guides, who were laughing and talking in a body under the passageway leading from the road. A fine turkey that I had seen sitting on the wall, was to form part of a feast that afternoon; and the little interpreter, in the flowered dressing-gown, caught it with a fish-hook and line, hooking it in the fleshy part of the throat. A novel method of catching turkeys.

Leaving others to feast on the turkey, we roamed along in the glory of an afternoon's sunshine; descending a steep ravine to the shore, through a brake of pulga bushes, aloes, and other plants, the names of which were unknown to us. The delicate trumpet-shaped blossoms of the strammonium grew amongst the bushes, and many of the native grasses were exceedingly curious. The sea-sands were like

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emery, scattered over with purple echinidae and small crabs. Some remarkably brilliant blue and orange spiders, with backs resembling mosaic work, were busy weaving their webs amongst the fleshy leaves of a small species of spotted aloe. A large and fruitful plantation of bananas extends from the sea up a valley: apparently, in the rainy season, the channel of a watercourse; madder, spurge, and many curious creeping plants grow along the sands. On each side of this valley the cliffs rise precipitously, scattered with straggling and stunted date palms jutting from their rocky declivities, and the vulture wheels in slow steady circles high above their summits. Bushes of naked grey thorns of enormous size were clothed with creepers, and on the topmost spray the brilliant jacamar sat like a feathered king, conscious of the beauty of his own gay plumage. The sun was rapidly sinking, and aware of the few moments of twilight that would elapse before night came on, we turned our steps homewards. Not choosing to visit the Portuguese hotel, we agreed to take up our quarters at Jokim's house; he promising to make us beds, and prepare us some coffee and cakes of Indian corn; so we traversed back through the dark streets, serenaded by the barking of the lean hounds that rushed out as we passed the open doors of the negro cottages.

We now arrived at Jokim's dwelling, taking by surprise his mother, a respectable looking negress who rose on our approach. There were ourselves, Jokim, now filled with vast importance in the cha-

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racter of our host, Marsalin, a pretty Moorish boy, Johnny, a lazy rascal, whom one could not help liking withal, Vincent, Pena, and little Antonio. Our guides here left us, and whilst our hostess prepared the supper, I had time to survey our novel habitation. It was a substantial stone cottage, with two apartments; the inner one being the sleeping-room of the family: this inner room too formed the repository for all manner of household utensils, articles of cooking, fruits, onions, &c. Here my sketch-book and other articles were carefully deposited by Jokim's mother. As there are no fire-places or chimneys in the houses, the cooking goes forward in a small round hut outside the back-door--a very snug and picturesque little place. We discovered the one in which a negress was preparing our coffee. There was no aperture but the entrance; the floor was sunk partly below ground, and in the centre, over a charcoal fire, raised on a triangular iron-stand, supported by three round stones, stood an earthen pipkin, holding our coffee; the cakes were baking in the embers, and a semicircle of drowsy turkeys, apparently enjoying the warmth of the place, stood with their tails to the fire--not unlike some old commercial gentlemen one has sometimes seen in the coffee-room of a country hotel on a frosty morning. Struck with the primitive appearance of this hut, and the habitual composure of the row of sleeping turkeys, I at once made a sketch of the scene by the dim light of the central fire.

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[Negro Cooking Hut, Porto Praya. ]

The chief apartment of the house contained but little in the shape of furniture. Some of the utensils were formed of red clay, of unique and not inelegant proportions--far more shapely than the generality of English jugs. Above the table, occupying a small niche in the wall, stood a little rag virgin, like a sixpenny doll, with a string of beads round her neck, and a piece of blue printed cotton fastened down the wall beneath. The window was closed to keep out the night air, our hostess set our repast on the table, and we ocean wanderers were comfortably seated at the humble, yet inviting board of a negro cottage, cheered by the light of a brazen lamp, with long-protruding beaks. The night was remarkably sultry, a piece of matting was laid on the earthen floor, and some sheets, beautifully white and clean,

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were spread out for us. The grasshoppers in the thatch above, sung loud and long, till the time of the rising sun, and the troops of lean and miserable dogs that rambled up and down the streets during the night, howled most dreadfully. A little before daybreak we were stirring. Jokim opened the back door, and we beheld a sky, half the breadth of which glowed with rose colour and pale saffron, freckled with myriads of small scattered clouds. Presently all was gilded with the sun, and we walked abroad in the first blush of a tropical morning. It was delightfully cool, with a fresh north-east breeze blowing; the negro women were stirring briskly about, balancing large calabashes and earthen vessels on their heads with the utmost grace and ease; some were milking the cows and goats into these vessels, from which the milk was immediately put into glass bottles and corked up for the market. This takes place at six o'clock in the morning, and is held in the square at the end of the Rua direita de Pelorinho. The skin panniers are taken off from the backs of the mules and placed promiscuously about, together with calabashes of hens and guinea-fowls' eggs, bottles of milk, fish, bananas, cassava, sacks of oranges, and heaps of limes, cocoa-nuts, and onions, all displayed on the ground.

We now made preparations to return to the vessel. We were favoured with a second ride through the surf, and again narrowly escaped being swamped by the rolling in of the breakers. Some hours elapsing

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before we fairly got under weigh, we busied ourselves in stowing our fruit to the best advantage in our cabins. I found it rather puzzling to make room for anything more. When I had finished, it presented something the appearance of a garden, at least I thought so; and I was fain willing to cherish the idea, for to pluck the fruit off the trees in one's own garden is always pleasant. Bunches of bananas hung suspended by rope-yarns; pine-apples, dangling over the wash-hand stand, sent forth a fragrant smell; cocoa-nuts and limes were stowed in various snug corners; some tall sugar-canes branched up from behind my black trunk; and oranges were everywhere pervading the vessel, from the forecastle to the stern. Whilst thus engaged, two large intelligent eyes, with whites upturned, suddenly stared in upon me through the port-hole. Unaccustomed to a vision of the "human face divine" in such a situation, I started up, and gave a more strict survey of the intruder's face. It was quite black; the eyes were fixed on me; and a grinning mouth, revealing a row of pearly teeth, was stretched by a most interesting smile, two-thirds astonishment and one-third recognition. Who could it be? It was no less a personage than Jokim himself, who was in his boat cruising about the vessel, and had just discovered me through my port.

We now bade adieu to St. Jago. Our white sails were filled by the swelling breeze, and the island quickly receded from our view, as we hastened fast

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to the southward. Before dark, a wildly broken line of misty grey, appearing above the horizon, was all we could discern of the island. After sunset a waste of sweeping waves, and countless stars gemming the canopy of night, with the arch of the milky-way stretching across the clear heavens, bespoke us on the solemn sea once more. There is something in the sight of the gay and smiling land that is peculiarly charming to the eye, weary of the expanse of the wide ocean--of the blue and level plain stretched all around to the distant horizon -- that desert of waters, now dashing in huge ever-varying masses of surge, and anon deep slumbering, like a weary monster sunk to rest. The vexed and troubled billow, and the glassy calm of the smooth sea, are portraitures of human mutability; they are as a mirror, in which we see reflected the fluctuations of sunshine and shower, the tempests and calms of life. It was with reluctance that we returned to our rocking ship, and settled ourselves contentedly down for a still longer voyage within the limits of its wooden walls.

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Nothing is now to be seen on deck but oranges. Every one I meet is eating an orange; every one's pocket is filled with them; orange-peel and orange-pips are a real nuisance. Oranges are being eaten in vast quantities: one of the boys consumed thirty yesterday. We eat them in the day, the captain eats them in the night, and the men are always eating them. Poor Symes has a vast supply: he says he is squeezing them to make Scotch marmalade. One of the steerage passengers is surfeited, and he lies extended on the water-casks, with a broom for his pillow. Snap can eat no more; and little Harry's two hundred have disappeared miraculously soon.

In lat. 8 deg. N. we lost the trade wind, and fell in with the "variables," and for a whole week we had squally unsettled weather; sudden gusts of wind, and equally sudden calms. The heavy tropical rains poured clown with a violence unknown in more temperate climes, and the vertical sun rendered it very oppressive; added to this, the upper-decks were so leaky, that several of us were compelled to sleep in our Macintoshes.

During the sullen calms in the neighbourhood of the line, we were frequently surrounded with numerous sharks, and some were caught by hooks

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baited with pork. A blue one was secured, that measured eleven feet in length; but its struggles were so violent that it became unmanageable, and breaking both ropes and harpoon, it escaped in a mangled condition. Its colour was of an intense blue, with the belly silvery, and the satanic expression of its eyes was truly dreadful. A shark is a horrible monster: it has a cold, calculating look, full of treachery; and it is the only one of God's creatures I enjoy to see slain.

In 5 deg. N. lat. we spoke the "Roseanna" of London for Pernambuco; we supplied her with some necessaries, and as her boat's crew pulled off they were pelted with showers of oranges by our men. After this, we saw no more strange faces till we arrived at our destination.

Speaking a ship at sea is a moment of excitement to all: a welcome break in the weary hours. Every soul on board, from the captain to the cabin boy, is on deck surveying the stranger with eager eyes.

On the 2d November we crossed the line; -- many of the passengers looking very pale at the mention of the awful rites of Neptune.

The colours of the sky at sunrise were exquisite: tints of light blue, green, rose-colour, brilliant purple and violet, with all the various shades of amber, yellow, orange, and red, were blended in beautiful and harmonious contrast; while the light and flickering clouds overhead assumed every variety of playful and fantastic form, too fleeting to repre-

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LORD MAYOR'S DAY--PAGEANT IN THE CLOUDS.

sent, and too full of light and glory to be approachable by the pencil.

November 9. --We are sailing on through a region of perpetual summer, breathing the balmy air of the southern hemisphere; whilst, probably, in our native land, cold sleet, and dismal fog usher in the day; the crackling furze blazes high on the cottager's hearth, and the chill breath of the nipping-frost makes the little ones blow their rosy fingers and gather closer round the sparkling embers. And, perhaps, in an atmosphere of yellow fog, through which thousands of lamps twinkle feebly from the shops and streets of mighty London, the busy crowd are crushing on the city pavement to gaze at the civic procession on Lord Mayor's day. But we have witnessed an aerial pageant surpassing the most regal of earthly splendours. The clouds, that had all day wandered along the sky, rested at eventide, forming a ridge as of vast mountains along the horizon. Specks of cloud, radiant and glowing as molten copper, were scattered like dark lustrous garnets against the dazzling brightness of the setting sun; then, huge storm clouds rose up and spread themselves in smoky wreaths against the light. No sooner had the sun gone down behind them, in a bed of gold and vermilion, than broad rays flashed up around, and the most exquisite tints of colour pervaded the sky; while these glorious hues yet lingered, in the centre of the amber space but just left by the sun, the planet Venus shone forth as a sparkling brilliant set in jewels; shedding

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her mild rays for the first time to us in the Southern Hemisphere, as an evening star. Constellations that never rose on England spangle the heavens. The "Southern Cross" and the "Magellan Clouds" are nightly visible. 1

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Nov. 14. --We crossed the tropic of Capricorn. It was an angry, tempestuous-looking night, with a wild stormy sky, and the sun set in grandeur. Alas! it set for ever to one who was intently watching it from the vessel's deck. Wilson, the sailor-boy, a noble, generous fellow, stood looking over my shoulder, as I made a hasty sketch of the evening sky. It was the last sunset of the tropic, and the black clouds seemed to portend the outburst of a tempest. Poor boy! he knew not that that sunset was to be his last; that he should no more watch it sink over the blue horizon; that before the morrow dawned, his fair forehead should be laid low in the dark and stormy sea; and that the sun should shine upon his grave--a silent, unknown place of waters--as the ship held on her way, amid the glories of its next setting. About midnight he was ordered aloft to stow the royal. Presently the cry of "a boy overboard!" broke the solemn stillness of the night. It was a wild and fearful cry: one to be remembered through a lifetime. They pointed towards the spot where he fell. The Pleiades were shining above it like a cluster of diamonds, and the waning moon silvered the edges of the dark clouds as they hurried past.

I can feel for that mother. What will be her anguish when they tell her that her boy--her only boy -- is

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not? And his little sisters--will they not look up mournfully, and ask why he comes no more back again to play with them?

In these latitudes I have several times observed the very singular effect of a perfectly green sky after sunset, looking like a vision of some celestial meadow in the fairy regions of cloudland.

In the southern ocean we fell in with some heavy weather, with strong gales from the south-west. It was very cold, with frequent hailstorms; though

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nearly midsummer in this hemisphere. The waves are occasionally magnificent; and it is extraordinary considering their vast size, all breaking into sheets of foam, how easily the vessel rolls along over them. Around us is a wide waste of solitary waters: all is drear and desolate; and the dim horizon but shuts out more distant tracts of wild breakers that foam and surge unheard by human ear.

The albatross has long since joined us. These noble birds soar along with plumage of dazzling whiteness, looking as pure and unspotted as the stainless air through which they sail. I have watched the albatross taking his nocturnal flight over the moonlit waters: now skimming on the breast of a half-seen wave; anon mounting in mid air, and wheeling his steady course in one vast sweep, till he appears in bold relief against the unclouded moon. Wandering, with silent and. majestic flight, over the desolate waters of the ocean, thousands of miles from land, the giant albatross has an appearance in keeping with the lonely grandeur of the scene.

We had a violent gale; the mainsail was stowed, and little Charlie, one of the lads, after vainly endeavouring to hold on, was sent on deck by the men. The captain threatened to beat him, and as he turned away there was an inward struggle to conceal the rising tear. I could guess his thoughts: they were of home--the home he had so lately exchanged for a life of hardship amongst strangers; and then he

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thought of the boy who had bade farewell to all his troubles, and maybe, for the moment, envied him his calm and quiet resting-place.

I delight in watching the sea-fires rolling in the wake of the vessel at night as she dashes onward: they are the stars that light the unfathomable abysses of ocean, gleaming upon many a cold seaweed bank and many a coral cavern; they sparkle along the dolphin's path, and dash back as the grampus cleaves his way through the briny waters, begemming the crest of every surge above which the wandering albatross sweeps with silent pinion through the nights of the southern ocean: aye, and they sparkle, too, like dim tapers, over many a grave, and burn and glow with their green phosphorescent light amidst the multitudes of dead that are there.

It is Saturday night, and we are drawing nearer to our destined port. All is gay, and somehow every one appears in good spirits; flutes are sounding on the quarter-deck, and the sailors are dancing on the forecastle; the poor German is blowing his French horn, exalted high on the top of the long boat, and the children are playing at horses up and down the deck, in the clear cold twilight.

Eight hundred miles from Cape Lewin, we fell in with a violent south-westerly gale. The scene, when the storm was at its height, was truly magnificent. The extreme fury of the wind beat down the sea, which appeared as one mass of boiling

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surge, the spray drifting along like smoke; whilst all beyond the abyss we were descending, and the side of the next sweeping mountain, that seemed as though it would bury us in foam at its approach, was obscured by an impenetrable mist.

Christmas-day. --A merry Christmas and a happy New-year to all we love far away! May the Yule-log blaze brightly, and a gleam of sunshine smile through the frosty air; and may there be a merry gathering of glad faces around the social board!

Christmas brings thoughts of frost and snow, and nipping wind--of bare trees and grass strung with sparkling icicles--of blazing hearths, ruddy faces, breath like steam in the keen pure air--of merry schoolboys and holiday sports--of swift skaters and muffled sportsmen--of windows decked with evergreens, and church-aisles garnished with bright holly--of good old English cheer, roast-beef and plum-pudding. But of all these associations, we wanderers of the ocean have only one present--it is the last. We have our Christmas cheer--mince-pies, and plum-pudding; aye, and our wassail-bowl also: it is the captain's blue wash-hand basin full of punch, with a wreath of lemon-peel swimming in the midst. And that the enjoyment may be universal, little Charlie is feeding the cat with fresh meat, and making a currant-dumpling for the monkey's Christmas-dinner.

We are all beginning to feel, more or less, that excitement which the prospect of a release from a

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long sea-voyage necessarily must produce. We are anticipating the joy of once more rambling over hills and along green valleys, with other scenes around us than the horizon of blue, broken only by the wandering albatross; and we can sympathise with the impatient schoolboy as he peeps through the faded green curtains of his school-room window at the blue and sunshiny sky and the green meadows, and counts the days and hours to his holidays.

The moon off the New Holland coast is exquisitely clear, and the mackerel sky most beautiful; it reminds one of a brilliant gem reposing on a cushion of the whitest and softest wool. The stars are twinkling out at every break in the spotted clouds, that steal like downy flocks along the upper regions of the atmosphere, with the cool night breeze for their shepherd.

At two p. m. on Friday the 29th of December the joyful cry of "Land ahead!" was echoed along the deck, and many a strained and anxious gaze was directed towards the distant blue line of land on the water's rim. There it lay stretched along, a level streak, just discernible above the horizon, but growing every hour more and more visible. It proved to be the westernmost coast of Kangaroo Island. It was an evening of pleasant memories: we had reached the Australian shores, and had had a glimpse of the land of promise; the sun went down magnificently in red and purple, and the

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land shone golden in its lingering rays. The reflection on the rippling sea made the waves also appear of a rich purple colour, and the fragrance of the land breeze came balmy and sweet across the water, from the acacia woods that clothed the hills, like the odour of a summer copse on a dewy morning: reviving recollections of the green woodlands of our own distant homes.

The cliffs of Kangaroo Island are in some places 300 feet high, of a whitish colour, and rising abruptly from the sea. The general appearance of the land is that of swelling rounded hills clothed with thick scrub and clumps of trees. At a place called Western river, we saw smoke ascending from some sealers' huts. There are no native inhabitants on the island.

Next morning as we lay becalmed in Investigator's Straits, numerous brown sharks came round the vessel. One was caught measuring nine feet long: it was a droll sight to observe one of the sailors over the bows of the vessel, with his head and shoulders just peeping above the jaws of the monster, and his arms round its body, whilst the men were hauling him in with ropes. The circumference of the creature was as large as that of a good-sized innkeeper--a tun-bellied Boniface. His head and tail were cut off, and knives were soon operating in all directions on his tough skin; the jaws were preserved by the sailors; the carpenter took the backbone to convert into a walking stick;

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a piece of the liver was cut up for young "Tim," the kitten--so called after old "Tim," who perished mysteriously at St. Jago--and the pigs savagely fed on the viscera, and glutted their foul snouts in the blood of the dying shark.

The last day of the year proved, singularly enough, the last of our voyage also; and we commenced a new year in a new land. At daybreak we saw the red sun come up from behind the darkly-purple hills. How gloriously it gilded the land of our hopes! We gazed on South Australia: that high jagged ridge was Mount Lofty; yonder the mouth of the Onkaparinga river; and before us was Holdfast Bay. At last the buildings of the City of Adelaide were descried glittering in the sunshine and a shout of joy rose from the vessel's deck.

As I stepped into the boat that conveyed the mail to the shore, I gave a parting look at the gallant ship, with her tall masts and her white sails, and felt I was taking leave of something to which I was unconsciously, yet irresistibly attached. I thought of the bright sunny day when we bade adieu to our native land, and left the white cliffs of Albion behind us; and of the changes that had taken place since then.

Before us lay spread out a shore of white daz-

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zling sand, rising into a scrub of evergreens, like a shrubbery of strange vegetation. In a few moments the boat's keel scraped the smooth sand, and we trod on the shores of South Australia. Shells lay scattered along the beach; star-bright and new flowers peeped up from the soil; the Banksia, the Euphorbia, and the Casuarina, lent a peculiar character to the foliage, and all presented a strangely foreign air. To feel the firm ground once more beneath our feet, to pluck unconsciously the simple blossoms studding the sand, and to hear the notes of the parroquet and the wattle bird, were indeed pleasant and joyful sensations.

Yet a strange charm binds me to the ocean; and whenever I take my farewell of its eternal bosom-- so grand and beautiful, yet solemn and terrible-- there are many high thoughts, and many memories, sad yet sweet, that will ever mingle with its remembrances.