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THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND 
 MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID 
 
THE 
 
 MIRROR OF THE WORLD; 
 
 OB, 
 
 STORIES FROM ALL CLIMES. 
 
 BY 
 
 MOULTON HAMPTON 
 
 BOSTON : 
 WENTWORTH & CO., 
 
 86 WASHINGTON STREET. 
 1856. 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1866, by 
 
 WENTWORTH, HEWES, & CO., 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern District of New York. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 No books whatever are more instructive and 
 entertaining than books of travels. They satisfy 
 that eager thirst after knowledge so strong in the 
 breasts of all persons, and furnish the mind with 
 matter for reflection. 
 
 We present the reader, in the following pages, 
 valuable facts and thrilling incidents, interspersed 
 with some of the finest Tales in the language; 
 and believe that there never was brought together, 
 in so small a compass, a more copious collection 
 of rational entertainment than will be met with 
 in this volume. 
 
COBITMTS. 
 
 PAGS 
 
 TWO MILLIONAIRES,.. 7 
 
 Banker and the Grocer, 9 
 
 The Grocer rises in the Scale, 11 
 
 Hope and Consolation, 13 
 
 Better Prospects, .16 
 
 The Electoral Birth-Day, 20 
 
 The Equipage, 26 
 
 The Victory, 31 
 
 The First of April, . -. 34 
 
 Continued from Part First, 40 
 
 The Household, .48 
 
 Village Schoolmaster, 53 
 
 Beginning of the Reformation, 56 
 
 Progress of the Reformation, 57 
 
 t The Colony, 60 
 
 The New Dignity 62 
 
 The Highest Festival, 67 
 
 A Fortunate Misfortune, 70 
 
 "I OWE YOU NOTHING, SIR," 75 
 
 The Teacher, 79 
 
 The Heir, 82 
 
 NOTES OF A JOURNEY ACROSS THE ISTHMUS OF PANAMA, 86 
 
 THE TWO PASSPORTS, 97 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 /^AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN'S LAND, ill 
 
 The Barrel Tree, 117 
 
 Western Australia, , 142 
 
 THE FAIRY CUP, 151 
 
 THE WHITE SWALLOW, 161 
 
 The Athapascow Foray, 166 
 
 Matonaza, 172 
 
 The Esquimaux Village, 177 
 
 Wanderings and Sufferings, 181 
 
 Winter, 185 
 
 The Lover's Search, 190 
 
 Strange Events, 193 
 
 FOWLING IN FAROE AND SHETLAND, 201 
 
 A FUQUEER'S CURSE, 208 
 
 THE DESERTS OF AFRICA, 214 
 
 Inhabitants of the Desert, 225 
 
 The Commerce of the Desert, 243 
 
 LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN, 254 
 
 THE DEALER IN WISDOM,... 295 
 
 THE KEY OF THE STREET, 303 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES, 
 
 HEN I was a young man completing 
 my studies at Jena, one of my most 
 agreeable acquaintances was old Forest 
 Counsellor Von Itodern, and some of 
 my pleasantest hours were spent in his 
 house. We used to assemble once or 
 twice a week, a tolerably large circle, 
 consisting in part of men like himself 
 in the service of the State, " angestel- 
 tie," though when, and where, and 
 how, two thirds of these served, I never 
 could make out; nor how the State 
 could want such an army of them ; for 
 truly of those " angesteltle" in most German States, their name is 
 legion, and partly of such of "the students as were less addicted 
 to the uproarious merriment then and now in fashion among the 
 Burseken. Even some of the "roaring boys" would now and 
 then like a quiet evening at the Counsellor's, by way of relief to 
 their wilder carousals, though somewhat in the proportion of Fat- 
 staff's bread to his sack. The Counsellor was a 'kind-hearted, 
 cheerful old man, at peace with himself and all the world, perhaps 
 because the world had gone well with him, or, perhaps, that from a 
 natural felicity of temperament, he had gone well with the world, 
 never raising his expectations too high either of himself or others, 
 and, therefore, escaping the ossifying and acidulating process so 
 actively at work with those who have tasted too often of hope de- 
 ceived, whether with or without any fault of their own. He never 
 pretended to give entertainments ; the refreshments were limited to 
 
 (7) 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 a cup of coffee, or of the anomalous beverage so innocently ac- 
 cepted by our kinsfolk, the Germans, under the name of tea, and 
 concocted in the proportion of a spoonful of the herb to a gallon of 
 water. Many of the guests used to qualify the mixture with lemon, 
 wine, or vanilla, which I wondered at till I tasted it in its primitive 
 state, and then I held all means lawful which should make it taste 
 of something. There was no want of amusement, though we neither 
 declaimed tragedies, slandered our neighbors, nor played at cards. 
 There was difference enough of age, temper, condition, and charac- 
 ter among us to give variety to the conversation on whatever subject 
 it chanced to fall ; and when the discussion threatened to become 
 too warm, the amenity of our host acted as a kind of general dulci- 
 fier of all acerbities, and brought about, if not an agreement of 
 principle, an agreement to differ. One of the most successful 
 means of producing this desirable result was the Counsellor's 
 reminiscences of his earlier life. He possessed much of the talents 
 " de courtier," so highly valued as an accomplishment of society 
 by our neighbors. Some of his narratives I have thought worth 
 while transcribing, though I have small expectation of rendering 
 them as agreeable to a reader as they were to a hearer. 
 
 The conversation fell one evening on Rousseau's writings, and his 
 own character, his morbid susceptibility, his scorn, whether 
 real or affected, of the rich and great, his proud poverty, and 
 the contradiction between his misanthropy and his zeal for the 
 reformation of society. 
 
 Some defended the unhappy philosopher, whose life was a con- 
 tinual warfare with himself and others, and blamed the friends who 
 had not understood him. Others justified the friends, and asked 
 which of his champions could honestly assert he could have kept on 
 good terms with him for a month. The effects of opulence and 
 indigence on the minds of gifted and right-minded men, came inci- 
 dentally under discussion. What would Rousseau have been, had 
 he been born to purple and fine linen to be served instead of 
 serving? "I remember a story, or rather a couple of stories," 
 said the Counsellor, " which have some reference to the subject of 
 your dispute. I will not say they will settle it, but they may 
 furnish some further argument. Both are singular in their way. 
 One was the best-executed practical joke I ever heard of. The 
 heroes of both were friends of my youth, and one of them is still 
 one of my best and dearest. " Listen if you like, learn if you 
 can! 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES.* 
 
 THE BANKER AND THE GROCER. 
 
 AMONG my intimates at the University of Inbingen, Casimir 
 Morn was the most distinguished by nature and fortune ; one had 
 given him a handsome person, considerable talents, and an excel- 
 lent heart ; the other a riflh banker for a father, that the value of 
 the diamond might not be impaired for want of a fit setting. Be- 
 fore entering the University he had travelled through the greater 
 part of Germany, France, and Italy. His mind, already cultivated 
 and enlarged, preserved him from contamination by the coarser ex- 
 cesses of the wilder part of his fellow-students ; while the succor- 
 ing hand held out to the more necessitous, attested that his temper- 
 ance was the result not of prudence only, but of choice. 
 
 Half a year before he left the University, I accompanied him in 
 the vacation to his father's house. The elder Morn was banker to 
 the Court, and lived in great splendor in the electoral city of 
 Cassel, where he was visited by what are called the first people in 
 the city. 
 
 Near Morn's house, or rather palace, stood an old, dilapidated, 
 gloomy-looking house, the abode of one Romanus, a grocer, a 
 miserly old curmudgeon, who had the reputation of possessing the 
 best filled coffers and the prettiest daughter in the city. He was 
 said to be a millionaire ; yet he continued to weigh out coffee, pep- 
 per, cheese, and treacle, with his own hand, nay, if he were dis- 
 abled, the fair fingers of the fair Caroline were pressed into the ser- 
 vice, for a shopman had never been admitted behind the counler of 
 Herr Romanus. 
 
 Casimir Morn and the pretty groceress had played together as 
 neighbors' children, and seemed by no means inclined to drop the 
 acquaintance now that they had ceased to be children. The banker, 
 however, began to make somewhat of a wry &ce at the familiar tone 
 of the young people towards each other. T&e was aspiring in his 
 views, and thought of purchasing a patent of nobility ; and then, with 
 the magic Von before his name, and his own handsome face and figure, 
 his son might look for a better quartering in his escutcheon than a 
 sugar loaf and Swiss cheese parted per pale. The grocer, on the 
 other hand, might perhaps have held it expedient to keep the flies 
 from buzzing, too near his sweets ; and, no doubt, it was with this 
 view that he always charged Casimir treble the usual price, when- 
 ever he made the purchase of any of the other's wares the pretence for 
 entering the shop. But Casimir, who was honestly and seriously in 
 
10 * THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 love, had no intention that affairs should remain on this ambiguous 
 footing. On the contrary, he gravely assured his father that if 
 erver he brought home a wife it must be Caroline Romanus ; and 
 Caroline assured her father that no young man was endurable to her 
 eyes saving and excepting Casimir Morn. The banker loved his 
 only son. He had nothing personally to object to the roses and the 
 lilies, forget-me-not eyes and raven curls of Caroline, and saw some- 
 thing greatly to admire in her father's million. Finding his son 
 resolute, he was inclined to give way. Herr Romanus had, on hia 
 side, nothing to say against the banker's son. His father carried on 
 the first business in the electorate ; and when, to these consider- 
 ations, was added, that the lovers had already sworn fidelity to all 
 eternity and beyond, it must be confessed that the marriage was 
 highly expedient. Who would have guessed that we were all 
 reckoning without our host ? 
 
 The unlooked-for obstacle arose in the shape of a grave proposal 
 of Herr Romanus, that his future son-in-law the handsome, 
 graceful Casimir, the darling of the fair, with all his university 
 honors blushing thick upon him should forthwith renounce the 
 flowery paths of literature, forsake the thornier crown awaiting the 
 successful pursuit of severer science, and, donning a white apron, 
 Berve sugar and snuff for the remainder of his days ! Herr Roma- 
 nus had. no faith in any pursuit above or below a counter. Learning 
 was nothing in his eyes ; " the service," no better than legalized 
 thieving ; banking, gambling according to law. 
 
 The banker was furious. His son, to whom his natural and 
 acquired advantages, and his own connections with the court, opened 
 the way to the first employments in the State, who had already 
 been named Referendary to the High Court of something or other 
 for the first six months without salary, certainly, but with the 
 positive assurance of speedy advancement ; and now came this 
 ridiculous old grocer with the preposterous demand that he should 
 renounce all these splendid prospects, (the patent nobility included,) 
 and sell treacle and herrings at three farthings apiece to the worthy 
 
 burghers of . Was ever a lover reduced to such an absurd 
 
 dilemma before? At three-and-twenty it is hard to say what 
 would not be undertaken for a fair and beloved maiden ; bat- 
 teries might be stormed, wounds and death defied, a desert held as 
 a paradise, Satan himself dared to mortal combat ; all might be 
 borne ; but to sink from a minister of state in expectation to a 
 seller of tea, coffee, tobacco, snuff, was worse than battery, desert, 
 death, and the duel ! 
 
 It struck me as somewhat odd, that instead of breaking off at 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 11 
 
 once with the absurd old humorist, the proud banker should in 
 private counsel his son to capitulate. Caroline, however, herself 
 opposed her father's whim. It was agreed that Casimir should 
 return to the University for half a" year ; and, in the mean time, 
 every engine should be set to work to soften the heart of Herr 
 Romanus, including tears, fainting, and threats of going into a con- 
 sumption. 
 
 THE GROCER RISES IN THE SCALE THE BANKER KICKS THE BEAM. 
 
 CAROLINE ROMANUS was a diligent correspondent. . Casimir was 
 
 informed of everything that happened in the good city of . 
 
 except what he most desired to know viz., that Herr Romanua 
 had changed his mind. But no ; the old man was as immovable 
 as the wooden negro at his 'own door. His son-in-law must be a 
 grocer : he had said it, and he stuck to it. The only consolatory 
 part of Caroline's letter was iJie concluding paragraph " After 
 all, we can wait a little ; I am only sixteen, and you three-and- 
 twenty." 
 
 Four months had thus passed away, when one morning Casimir 
 burst into my room, with an open letter in his hand and consterna- 
 tion in his countenance. It was from the broker Morn, and con- 
 tained this laconic and astounding information : " I am 'a bank- 
 rupt and fugitive : I must leave directly. I am going to 
 
 England, and thence to the West Indies. The ten thousand 
 florins, secured to you by the enclosed paper, you will receive on* 
 application. It is all I have been able to save for you from the 
 wreck." 
 
 Very naturally, such an unexpected blow of fate had a tendency 
 to lengthen the visage even of a lover of three-and-twenty. The 
 sum transmitted was not a third part of his mother's fortune which 
 had been secured to Casimir. I attempted some words of consola- 
 tion. He made a sign to me to be silent, and passing his hand 
 rapidly over his brow " Do not mistake me," said he faltering ; 
 " it is not the poverty I feel, but the disgrace. And do not at- 
 tempt to console me for either : for one there is no consolation, and 
 for the other no need of it. I should despise myself if the mere 
 loss of wealth could sadden the future to me. Help me to divert 
 my thoughts for to-day, if you can ; to-morrow I shall not need 
 your help." 
 
 Casimir returned to . His father's splendid house, with 
 
12 THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 all belonging to it, had been already sold. The whole city cried 
 upon the runaway banker, and pitied the son, except the old grocer. 
 He had lost eight thousand dollars by Morn's bankruptcy. At 
 first, he had comforted himself with the hope that Casimir would 
 be able to make it up to him out of his mother's fortune ; but when 
 the young man frankly confessed that the same cause had deprived 
 him of the greater part of his fortune, |he old man laughed derid- 
 ingly. " Whistle me another tune from that, young man," said he, 
 twirling his queer-looking wig round and round upon his head, as 
 he was wont on similar occasions. " Your father, Herr Casimir, is a 
 clever fellow ! He would make a capital finance minister ! What 
 would you wager, now, that he has brought his sheep to dry land in 
 time ? " and here Romanus dropped the fingers of his right hand 
 into the hollow of his left, with a significant look, as if counting 
 money. " How long is it to be before he makes his appearance 
 amongst us again as a rich man ? " 
 
 Casimir colored deeply. " His father," he said, " had been un- 
 fortunate thoughtless, perhaps but he was no deliberate de- 
 ceiver." 
 
 When Romanus saw that Casimir was really unable to pay the 
 eight thousand dollars, he demanded, without ceremony, all he had 
 in part payment at least. 
 
 " How, then, am I to live ? " asked the young man. " As yet I 
 receive no salary from my appointment." 
 
 " My heavens ! " whined the miser, " you are a learned man, 
 Herr Casimir. You may be secretary to somebody ; but what is to 
 become of me ? Oh ! I am a poor, ruined old man, driven out of 
 Jiouse and home. If I am to lose all this monstrous sum, I and my 
 poor child must beg from door to door." 
 
 " Indeed, are you really pobr ? " cried Morn. " No, you shall 
 not beg. Take my little capital into your trade, and give me 
 Caroline's hand. Make of me what you will. Industry and econ- 
 omy will soon make up for the past. We shall be the happiest 
 people in- the world." 
 
 Casimir said this with so much warmth and evident sincerity, 
 that the old grocer was, to use a homely phrase, fairly dumb-found- 
 ered. 
 
 " What," said he at length, in his harshest tone, " is it a matter 
 of rejoicing that your honorable papa then has cheated me out of 
 my whole property ? And, to reward such honest dealing, I shall 
 give you my daughter, shall I ? Your humble servant ! If your 
 worthy father has made me a beggar, I will hold no beggar's wed- 
 ding in my house, I promise you. Be so good as to take Yourself 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 13 
 
 off, will you ? And, if I may be so bold as to ask a favor, I would 
 beg that you never darken my doors again. I wash my hands of 
 you. I have not brought up my girl to fling her into the arms of 
 the first fellow without a penny in his pocket that has the impu- 
 dence to ask her." 
 
 And this was the result of poor Casimir's interview with Hen 
 Romanus. 
 
 HOPE AND CONSOLATION. 
 
 WHICHEVER way the unfortunate young man turned, he heard ex- 
 ecrations on his father's name. Those who, during the banker's 
 prosperity, had been his basest flatterers, now distinguished them- 
 selves by the bitterness and violence of their reproaches. In con- 
 sequence, the news of his father's death, which reached* Casimir a 
 few months after, brought with it a kind of melancholy consolation, 
 notwithstanding his unfeigned sorrow. The unfortunate banker 
 died at Antwerp of inflammation of the lungs, which had been 
 neglected probably in the overwhelming griefs and vexations conse- 
 quent on his bankruptcy. The death of Morn at last put an end 
 
 to the storm of hostility, and the worthy people of even found 
 
 some expressions of pity for the son at last. 
 
 Casimir's courage rose again, after the first stunning effects of the 
 blow, with that elastic vigor natural to his age. When the storm 
 had somewhat blown over, he addressed himself for employment to 
 some former friends of his family, and met with a civil reception 
 from all. His appointment as Referendary to the Electoral 
 Chamber was confirmed. 
 
 " You must study at the law, Roman and financial," said the 
 minister, " and I will think of you in time. Of course, as youngest 
 in the office, you must work without salary. But, in a year or 
 two, I hope we shall be able to do something for you. You are 
 still very young ; one cannot expect much at four-and-twenty ! " 
 
 Morn was well contented for the time. He fixed himself in a 
 respectable citizen's house, right opposite the once splendid dwelling 
 of his family less haunted by the memory of former magnificence 
 than allured by the vision of Caroline's blue eyes and rose-tinted 
 cheek ; for, although the old chandler had prohibited him from 
 crossing his threshold, he could not prevent eyes from visiting as 
 they listed. 
 
 Casimir's sitting-room and that used by Caroline Romanus were, 
 
14 THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 by good fortune, exactly opposite, and, when the sun shone, not a 
 corner of either was invisible to the other. Each knew when 
 the other came in or went out, how they were employed, when they 
 were glad, when they were sorry. After the fashion of maidens of 
 her class in Germany, Caroline's constant seat, when not employed 
 in household duties, was perched up at the window ; so there was 
 nothing very remarkable in her preferring her knitting needles to 
 all other employment. Never, even among her country-women, 
 was there such an indefatigable knitter. 
 
 Within a year's time the language of looks and signs had been 
 brought to such perfection that all they thought, wished, hoped, or 
 feared, was mutually understood, without exchanging a word. 
 
 Cheered by the glad eye and radiant smile of the fair and faith- 
 ful Caroline, young Morn labored with unwearied diligence, not 
 only in his own peculiar vocation, but was always ready to assist the 
 superiors in office, who, having easier employment and more pay, 
 found, of course, less leisure, with their accounts, memorials, 
 minutes, &c. &c. He stood, therefore, high in the good graces of 
 his colleagues, every one eulogized his talents and acquirements, 
 asked his advice, and accepted his services ; and, in return, no one 
 in the city received more invitations to balls, soirees, and picnics. 
 
 The fathers praised his ready head and ready hand, the daughters 
 declared that he sang admirably, waltzed divinely, and declaimed 
 like an angel, in their private theatricals; but, alas ! in spite of this 
 universal favor, Casimir Morn remained, at six-and-twenty, the 
 generally-esteemed but unpaid junior Referendary of the Electoral 
 Chamber of . 
 
 " Never mind," was Caroline's unfailing topic of consolation ; 
 "you are but six-and-twenty, and I am just nineteen." The lovely 
 Caroline was now in the full bloom, and beyond dispute the fairest 
 maiden in the city. (The fame of her beauty and her probable 
 wealth even reached the court. Princes and Counts, with unim- 
 peachable quarterings, condescended to press with their noble feet 
 the very dirty pavement before the low, dark, strong-flavored shop 
 of grocer Romanus ; and, what was more, to shed the light of their 
 countenance on the cunning, miserly, old curmudgeon himself. A 
 beauty like Caroline, and the heiress of a million, was well worth 
 
 the sacrifice of all the genealogies, orders and diplomas in . 
 
 Yet, neither counts, barons, knights, state, war, court, chamber, 
 justice, (civil and criminal,) finance, police, church, or public instruc- 
 tion, privy or public counsellor, could touch the heart of the old 
 grocer, or his charming heiress. On the one hand, Herr Romanus 
 adhered with the obstinacy of a whole herd of mules to his resolu- 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIERS. 
 
 tion of finding or making his future son-in-law a grocer ; and, on the 
 other, the damsel herself was as indifferent to the galaxy of stars 
 in the court firmament as if they had been so many farthing rush- 
 lights in her papa's shop. 
 
 All her pretty coquetries, her winning glances, and gracious 
 smiles for which counts and counsellors looked and sighed in 
 vain were lavished, unasked for and by the dozen, on the honor- 
 ary junior Referendary of the Electoral Chamber. 
 
 This ought to have been consolation enough ; but, when two more 
 years had passed over his head, without bringing any alteration in 
 his prospects, Casimir's brow began to cloud sometimes, and other 
 sighs than those of love to steal from his bosom. Old Romanus 
 was as immovable as a rock to lovers' entreaties, and the minister 
 seemed to have forgotten him altogether. Morn was an admirable 
 laborer in the official vineyard, a man of the strictest honor, of the 
 clearest head these were facts that no one ventured to gainsay 
 and yet, when a place became vacant, no one thought any more of 
 the untainted honor, the clear head, and gratuitous labors of the 
 unpaid Referendary, Casimir Morn, than if there had been no such 
 merits in existence, or -no need of them in the electoral city of 
 - . People had their sons, or their nephews, or their cousins 
 thirty times removed, to provide for ; young men, who had neither 
 served half so long nor deserved half so well, were continually put 
 over his head ; and if he made any complaint, he was answered by 
 a silent shrug, or a head-shaking at the nepotism of some brother 
 official, or grave exclamations at the ingratitude of great men, 
 sweetened, perhaps, by a vague assurance that although the omission 
 of his name had been unavoidable this time, another he might de- 
 pend, &c. &c. 
 
 No sooner, however, was the complainant's back turned than the 
 complainee was amazed at the assurance with which such claims 
 were advanced, as if Mr. Casimir Morn really looked on himself as 
 their equal, as if his pretensions admitted of any comparison with 
 those of Von this, and Von the other ! If people of that class were 
 wanted they would be called for, and so forth. With all his clear- 
 headedness, Morn was of those thoroughly good-hearted people who 
 forgive as easily as they are injured. In the blind-man's buff game 
 of fortune, somehow they are always buff are paid for real hard 
 service by a friendly pressure of the hand or a cordial word and 
 run through fire and water for their friends, to get nothing but the 
 singeing and sousing for their pains. They cannot comprehend such 
 a thing as smiling treachery ; and the astonishing readiness with 
 which some will be guilty of the basest compliances, for the meanest 
 
16 THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 objects, is absolutely incredible to them. Morn looked willingly on 
 the bright side of human life, and would gladly have ignored the 
 existence of the shadow altogether. The belief in the moral purity 
 of his fellow-men was a positive necessity for him. 
 
 He bore his lot, therefore, with patience, if not with pleasure 
 at least so he said to himself, " his merit was acknowledged and 
 loved." That it should be so often and so oddly passed over in the 
 distribution of the loaves and fishes of office, did certainly appear to 
 him unjust ; . yet in his own heart he doubted whether, after all, the 
 fault might not be his own. He thought his services ought to speak 
 for him instead of his lips; he was not fond of showing himself in a 
 great man's antechamber, which, indeed, he seldom or never entered, 
 unless business called him there ; courteous and obliging by nature 
 and habit, he was yet more frank in the exposition of his opinions 
 than beseemed an expectant ; and, more than all, he had an honor- 
 able reserve in speaking of his circumstances ; and if he allowed his 
 acquaintance to think him, or to pretend they thought him, much 
 richer *han he was, the weakness had its origin in a pardonable if 
 not a praiseworthy motive. Perhaps others were esteemed more in 
 need of advancement than himself, and therefore he was passed 
 over. Poor Morn ! 
 
 He still lived opposite Komanus' house, and the blue heaven of. 
 Caroline's eyes still rained on him light and life. One morning in 
 March it was his birthday and she made her appearance early 
 at the window, wearing in her bosom the nosegay of snow-drops, of 
 which she made a yearly imaginary offering to her lover. To-day 
 you are eight-and-twenty, and I twenty, she telegraphed the 
 pretty fingers lingered in tracing the last word. Twenty is not a 
 desperate age, certainly ; but yet, when a girl has not only made up 
 her mind for the last four years to be married, but actually fixed on 
 the man, to turn her back upon the " teens " is a step in a maiden's 
 life, particularly when we consider that another twenty might pasa 
 before Kramer Romanus would alter his mind. In the mean time, 
 Caroline's beauty was at its height ; by a necessary deduction, the 
 next step must be downward ; and " I am growing an old bachelor," 
 sighed Casimir. He turned from the window, and sat down on the 
 sofa with his back to the light. 
 
 BETTER PROSPECTS. 
 
 Some one knocked at the door. It was a servant of Privy 
 Counsellor Count 'Von Bitterblolt. &c. &c. &c., who brought a 
 gracious intimation that his lord wished to say a few words in private 
 to Referendary Casimir Morn. " A few words in private " frosi 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 17 
 
 Count Von Bitterblolt, the confidential minister of his Highness the 
 Elector, was no small honor. Casimir flew to him on the wings of 
 curiosity and expectation. He was received by the favorite with 
 extraordinary graciousness. The Count had the gift of appearing 
 excessively amiable and condescending towards his inferiors when he 
 wanted to gain a point by them, and as outrageously insolent and 
 arrogant when his point was gained ; he not only, like another great 
 man, his countryman, threw away the peel when he had sucked the 
 oraDge, but kicked it into the gutter. 
 
 " It is his Highness' wish, my dear young friend," began Count 
 Von Bitterblolt, " that his newly-acquired territory should as much 
 as possible be principally assimilated to the old. In pursuance of 
 this object, there must be a new survey made of the domain, with 
 all its regalities, rights and privileges, and a certain conformity of 
 administration introduced, and projects for a new system of taxation, 
 suitable to the nature of the acquired lands, and the exigencies of 
 the State, be drawn up. His Highness has already appointed an 
 extraordinary commission. The affair, my dear" Mr. Morn, is a del- 
 icate and a difficult one. The two Chamber Counsellors at the 
 head of it are men advanced in life. They will never bring the 
 business to an end. I have said as much to his Highness. But 
 they are old and faithful servants to the State, and cannot be passed 
 over ; though, between ourselves, my dear young friend," in a 
 charming tone of confidence added the Count, " two more unfit men 
 could scarcely be found. To give perhaps a little more vivacity to 
 their proceedings, it has also pleased his Highness to join my son to 
 the commission, though, I give you my honor, I really opposed the 
 appointment. I thought it my duty to do so. But princes, you 
 know, my dear sir, do not love contradiction, and our excellent 
 Elector is no exception. Unfortunately, my son's health is exceed- 
 ingly delicate. I foresee the business will be horribly spun out, and 
 that must not be. I have* therefore, thought of associating you, my 
 dear Referendary, as secretary to the commission. Your expenses, 
 of course, will be paid ; and if my son, with your assistance, accom- 
 plishes his task, as I have no doubt he will, to the satisfaction of his 
 Highness, it will create a most admirable opportunity for bringing 
 your uncommon merit to the observation of his Highness. I have 
 already proposed to myself the pleasure of conferring on you the 
 first vacant office in the newly-acquired domain." 
 
 Morn, as may well be supposed, readily closed with the offer, the 
 
 motives of which he perceived easily enough. The two elderly 
 
 gentlemen were a couple of superannuated old blockheads, only 
 
 thrust in to give a color to the appointment of the young Von 
 
 2 
 
18 THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 JBitterblolt, a raw- youth not long from the University, totally igno- 
 rant of that or any other business. From these premises might be 
 deducted the very obvious conclusion, that the whole weight of the 
 employment must fall on the shoulders of Mr. Secretary Morn. 
 No matter, he was not afraid of labor ; no doubt the minister must 
 feel the weight of his services, and would reward them accordingly ! 
 The exceeding liberality of the Count, in paying his expenses, was 
 not at present a matter of indifference to him. As he had served 
 the State for four years without fee or reward, the interest of his 
 little capital had been insufficient even for his moderate expenses. 
 Every year saw consequently a portion of the capital itself sunk, 
 which again diminished the interest, which tended further to the 
 impoverishment of Mr. Casimir Morn. 
 
 He took a tender leave of his Caroline, and left , with the 
 
 noble commissioners, full of the most animating hopes. It will be 
 taken for granted that he had previously arranged a plan of corre- 
 spondence with his beloved ; and even this was not so simple a matter 
 as it may at first appear, since the cunning old millionaire, by way 
 of teaching his daughter the right value of money, had hit upon the 
 admirable plan of never giving her a farthing ; consequently, the 
 cost of the correspondence fell wholly upon Morn. Casimir's life in 
 the capital of the new province was pretty much what it had been 
 at the Electoral. He labored hard in his vocation, made few ac- 
 quaintances, that he might avoid useless expense, refreshed himself 
 by a walk in the evening, and finished the day by reading a letter 
 from or writing one to his second self. 
 
 An accidental circumstance procured him another amusement 
 shortly after. The rooms next to his in the hotel where he had 
 taken up his abode were occupied by a foreigner, whom he usually 
 encountered at the table d'hote where he never spoke ; and, after 
 retiring for the night, Casimir used to hear him walking up and 
 down his bed-chamber for hours together. The stranger was a pale, 
 elegant young man, apparently about Morn's own age, was attended 
 by two servants, and had lived nearly three weeks in the town, 
 where,* however, he seemed neither to know nor wish to know a 
 single individual. He bore the name of Devereux an English- 
 man, therefore, Morn concluded ; and, one day, addressing him in 
 his native language, partly out of a good desire to enliven the 
 melancholy looking stranger, and partly because he was glad of an 
 opportunity to practise his English. 
 
 The Briton looked at him with surprise and some appearance of 
 pleasure, and answered courteously but briefly, and then fell back 
 into his former silence. During the dinner, Casimir observed the 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 19 
 
 stranger casting penetrating glances towards him, and, when it was 
 over, he came suddenly up to him, saying, " Will you allow me to 
 speak with you a moment alone ? " 
 * Casimir took him immediately into his own room. 
 
 " I am about to make a very odd request to a stranger," began 
 the Englishman, abruptly ; " but it will not be mended *by circum- 
 locution. A letter of credit I expected to find here has been de- 
 layed by some strange accident. I have a pressing necessity to set 
 out immediately for Amsterdam, and I am without money. Can 
 you, or will you, lend me a hundred louis d'ors ? On my arrival at 
 Amsterdam, you shall receive it again directly, with what interest 
 you please." 
 
 Casimir was taken somewhat by surprise. He expressed none, 
 however ; but, after a short pause, said, " I have not so much 
 about me ; but I could procure it within fourteen days." 
 
 " You will oblige me more than I can express ; you save me from 
 a most unpleasant embarrassment," returned the Englishman, whcr 
 shook Morn heartily by the hand, and left him. The whole affair 
 had scarcely occupied five minutes. -When he was alone, Casimir 
 began to feel he had been a little over-hasty in his promise. A 
 hundred louis d'ors were neither more nor less than the fourth part 
 of his whole property. He shook his head. The Englishman's face 
 announced honesty ; he looked like anything but an adventurer ; 
 still, a hundred louis were the fourth part of his capital, and to put 
 it at once in the power of a total stranger, on the strength of a 
 pleasing countenance, was rather a thoughtless proceeding. " Well," 
 was the conclusion of Morn's soliloquy, " well, my opinion is that he 
 will not deceive me ; and if he should ? well, it will be the first 
 time in my life, and the last." 
 
 Apparently this was not the only grief the stranger had on his 
 mind ; for, notwithstanding the promised assistance, Morn heard 
 him at night again pacing his chamber in the same unquiet manner, 
 and uttering heavy sighs, almost groans. 
 
 " The man is very unhappy ; he must be worse off than I am," 
 thought Morn. " A mere money embarrassment can never cause 
 such heavy sorrow. He shall have the louis, however." 
 
 The next day Devereux appeared at table as usual, his counte- 
 nance overshadowed with a yet deeper melancholy, and he was silent 
 as before. Morn, who felt unaccountably attached to him endeav- 
 ored, by everything in his power, to enliven him. When he could 
 be induced to talk, Devereux seemed quite a different person his 
 features brightened, his whole deportment became attractive in no 
 common degree. The two young men went out after dinner to walk 
 
20 THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 together, and Morn was still more charmed with his new acquaint- 
 ance. Devereux was more than an agreeable companion ; his men- 
 tal powers, considerable in themselves, had received every advantage 
 from cultivation. The stores of ancient and modern literature were* 
 familiar to both, and formed, with the fate and laws of nations, their 
 chief topics of discourse. When Casimir had finished his day's task, 
 Devereux came constantly to his room, and remained, till deep of 
 the night, in conversation with him. Of the promised loan not a 
 syllable was said on either side. Morn spoke openly of himself on 
 his past and present hopes and prospects. His companion was less 
 communicative ; but he learnt so much, in return, that Devereux 
 had left his native land in consequence of a tragical occurrence, 
 deeply affecting his future life, and was travelling in the hope of 
 dissipating a heavy sorrow ! 
 
 The intercourse of the two young men taught Morn, for the first 
 time, the value of a friend. His letters to the fair Romanus were 
 "almost as full of praises of his Devereux as of love for herself. His 
 pretty mistress was half jealous of the agreeable stranger. In the 
 mean- time, Morn's louis d'ors came to hand, and were immediately 
 carried by him into Derereux's room. The latter gave him, in re- 
 turn, a written acknowledgment of the obligation, and the address 
 of his family in England. 
 
 " If I die before I can repay you," said he, " that is, within a 
 few weeks, forward the paper, with this letter, directly." 
 
 He put a sealed letter in Morn's hands as he spake, and then 
 turned the conversation to some indifferent subject. They parted 
 shortly after, almost in silence, with a fervent pressure of the hand, 
 carrying with them remembrances and feelings beneficial alike to 
 both. 
 
 THE ELECTORAL BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 THE loss of Devereux's society was more felt by Morn than he 
 thought possible after so short an acquaintance. He had parted 
 with a companion whom he really loved a friend, whose views and 
 sentiments harmonized so admirably with his own, that in losing 
 him he seemed to lose the better half of himself. His official labors 
 became more than ever a necessity to him ; they served to divert 
 and calm his thoughts. Devereux and Caroline filled his heart 
 entirely. " I am really a most fortunate man," cried he, in his 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 21 
 
 enthusiasm of love and friendship. " I love, and am loved by, two 
 of the noblest beings in the world." 
 
 After the lapse of seven busy months, the. report of Cabinet and 
 Privy Counsellor, Von Bitterblolt, was ended, and the Commission- 
 ers returned to the electoral residence. His Highness, the Elector, 
 was so well content with the work that he bestowed Heaven knows 
 what order on the young Count Heinrich Von Bitterblolt, and made 
 an addition to the pension of the two reverend seniors who had 
 served as ballast to the official vessel. Secretary Morn was the 
 only person forgotten ; he had done nothing for a recompense, but 
 deserved it. The Counts of Bitterblolt, indeed, father and son, 
 were profuse in expressions of gratitude, and, to prove it, invited, 
 him to dinner. Fraulein Von Bitterblolt also found the Secretary 
 exceedingly agreeable ; if he had been of noble, instead of plebeian 
 origin, he might, perhaps, have found the daughter more grateful 
 than the father. So soon, however, as the Cabinet Counsellor re- 
 marked the interest the young lady took in the handsome Secretary, 
 he held it advisable to invite him seldomer, and gradually not at all. 
 Morn found it necessary to put the minister modestly in mind of his 
 promise of an appointment in the newly acquired province ; where- 
 upon his Excellency clapped him on the shoulder in the most 
 friendly manner in the world, and assured him he would take care 
 of him. 
 
 " I have spoken of your talents and services more than once to 
 his Highness," said he. "Wait till the birthday, when the greatest 
 number of advancements are made ; I make no doubt your name 
 will stand first on the list." 
 
 How could Morn feel less than satisfied ? He looked upon his 
 patent as good as made out, particularly when the minister proceeded 
 to ask him what kind of place would be most agreeable to him. He 
 thought of Caroline, and replied with great frankness that he would 
 certainly prefer remaining in the residence. " It shall be thought 
 farther of," -said his Excellency. " I should gladly have seen a 
 man like you, my dear Mr. Morn, in one of the first posts in the 
 new province ; but, if you prefer remaining with us, I am afraid it 
 will, be rather more difficult to provide for you suitably in the capi- 
 tal. However, we shall see. The old Chamber Counsellor, Bal- 
 der, might, indeed, be pensioned off. Would that suit you ? " 
 
 " I would not wish for more," returned Morn, his face glowing 
 with pleasure. 
 
 " Excellent," said the minister, and dismissed him with the best 
 grace in the world. 
 
 Gilded by such hopes, the winter glided away Caroline was as 
 
22 THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 faithful and fair as ever ; and if ever mistrust found entrance in 
 Casimir's heart, a look or smile from the opposite window made 4 it 
 summer again. At length came March, the long-looked-for month 
 thai had given his Highness, the Elector, to an admiring world. 
 The list of promotions was published ; patents for new appointments 
 made out ; the streets were full of people riding and driving about 
 to congratulate or be congratulated. Morn made a point of remain- 
 ing at home, that he might not miss the messenger from the Elec- 
 toral Chancery. The customary "compliment''' for the bearer of 
 the princely graces lay wrapt in paper ready on the table. Noon, 
 evening ; still no messenger. His servant was despatched to the 
 court printer for the list no such name as Morn was to be found, 
 and no messenger came to correct an error of the press. Dinners 
 and balls in honor of the day were given in all parts of the city ; 
 the streets were gay with lights and music ; nobody troubled them- 
 selves about poor Morn and frustrated hopes. He sat down in the 
 pouting corner of his sofa, and groaned from the bottom of his 
 heart. 
 
 Morn had not passed a more unhappy night since his father's 
 death. Six long years had he served the State faithfully and 
 diligently, fed only on the thinnest of all diets, hope ; through his 
 silent help, others, with not half his talents or acquirements, had 
 gained credit and substantial reward ; young Von Bitterblolt had 
 been made Chamber President for the very service Morn had per- 
 formed. He saw that his industry, his talents, his knowledge, 
 availed him nothing. Men who were not only ignorant and incapa- 
 ble, but known to be so, passed him everywhere in the race, if they 
 had " connections," or had found some surer way of recommending 
 themselves than by merit and service. 
 
 To Caroline's hand he must renounce all pretension. By the 
 perversest of all destinies, her constancy and unswerving faith but 
 added to his sorrow. His social creed had received a cruel shock. 
 The egotism of the greater part of mankind, the want of integrity 
 in their relations with each other, appeared in their full hatefulness. 
 The recollection of all the promises made but to be broken, the hol- 
 low professions, the false smiles, all the spoken and acted lies of the 
 last six years, made him sick at heart. All that he had hitherto 
 labored to excuse in others their prejudice, their rapacity, their 
 paltry pride, their envy, their shameful blackening all better and 
 purer than themselves, now shone out in all their native ugliness. 
 He could no longer deceive himself ; the greater part of the employes 
 
 of looked on their offices and emoluments but as the means 
 
 of indulging their arrogance, their ambition, and animal excesses. 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 23 
 
 With respect to his plans for the future, all was uncertainty. 
 Even had he been so inclined, it was no longer in his power, with 
 his diminished resources, to labor gratuitously in his present em- 
 ployment ; and it was repugnant to him to seek any other in this 
 city. He longed to flee far away, to seek some distant village, 
 where none knew him, and earn a living by the labor of his hands. 
 It was sweet to dream of shunning all mankind as long as life should 
 last, and think only of Devereux and Caroline, as of two noble 
 spirits among thousands of miserable creatures, all so many willing 
 sacrifices to the meanest passions. According to the custom of the 
 place, and the people amongst whom he had lived, Morn ought to 
 have put a good, or at least a smiling, face, upon his disappointment, 
 congratulated others on their better fortune, and tried to knit up 
 again the ravelled skein of his claims and expectations ; instead of 
 this, he wrote a laconic note to the head of his department to signify 
 his renunciation of the office he held in the service of his Highness, 
 
 the Elector of , endorsed all the documents relating to it in 
 
 his possession, and then went to bed and slept soundly. 
 
 The next morning, the servant of the house .brought him two 
 notes and a bouquet of snow-drops. He now recollected that it was 
 his birth-day, and breathed a heavy sigh. One of the notes was 
 from Caroline, the other from President Van Bitterblolt. Morn 
 knew the handwriting of both. " First for the bitters," said he, and 
 opened the President's billet. Almost unconsciously to himself, a 
 secret hope had found a corner of his breast to nestle in, that his 
 loss would be regretted, that he would be entreated to do nothing 
 hastily, that he would try to retain him by giving new and surer 
 expectations ; he had half forgiven him already. Nothing of the 
 sort. His Excellency the President " regretted, in courteous terms, 
 that Mr. Morn had taken such a resolution, acknowledged the 
 receipt of the documents, and remained his humble servant." " So 
 that is the reward of six years' gratuitous service," said he, bitterly, 
 and he flung the President's official verbiage aside. Caroline's 
 note accompanying the bouquet was kind as ever, but there was a 
 tone of sadness in it. The same topic of consolation had been so 
 often repeated ! He went to the window, Caroline was already at 
 hers : Casimir pressed the flowers to his lips and his heart, and 
 retreated to his musing corner again. The city he must and would 
 leave, and try his fortune elsewhere. Many were the projects he 
 revolved in his mind. His only. grief would be the parting from the 
 angel of his childhood the tenderly-beloved Caroline. He was 
 still engaged in a long and most touching conversation with her in 
 imagination, when a loud knock at his door, and the voices of 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 several persons without, aroused him from his reverie. The door 
 opened, and four men stumbled in, bearing between them two large 
 and apparently very heavy chests. To the question of where were 
 they to put down their burden, Morn answered by another where 
 did they get it from ? It belonged to the gentleman who had just 
 
 come post to . Morn's first thought was of Devereux ; and 
 
 Devereux himself it was who entered in his travelling dress, just 
 as the porters left the room. 
 
 " I have been long enough away to learn your full value," was 
 Devereux's exclamation, when the -first greetings were over ; " let 
 me take up my abode with you at once ; you will find room for a 
 friend." 
 
 Devereux's sudden appearance was balm to the wounded heart of 
 Casimy- ; joy almost deprived him of speech. " I have but this 
 room and a bed-room," said he; "if you can find accommodation on 
 so small a scale, I shall be but too happy to share them with you." 
 
 " But how is it you confine yourself within such narrow limits ? " 
 asked the Englishman, greatly astonished. 
 
 " They are quite as extensive as my means permit," answered 
 Morn, smiling. 
 
 " But I have been greatly deceived. I thought you must be 
 rich, as you parted so readily with a hundred louis d'ors." 
 
 " A friendly heart is always rich to a friend. It was a fourth 
 of my whole property. If you had asked for more you should have 
 had it. You wanted it." 
 
 Devereux looked at him for some time in silence, and then, ad- 
 vancing, grasped his hand with an earnest cordiality more expres- 
 sive than words. " My servants I will despatch to the next house," 
 said he, " but I remain with you in any corner you can spare. Had 
 I been aware how you were situated, I should not have come upon 
 you so suddenly." 
 
 The matter was soon arranged, a bed prepared by the side of 
 Morn's, and a supper bespoken from the next tavern. Before the 
 night was passed, the hearts of both were freely poured out to each 
 other. Devereux related his own history. He had been passion- 
 ately in love with a young lady, who returned his love, but whose 
 family, from some causes too long to explain here, were on the worst 
 terms with his own. A mutual friend of the families, Devereux's 
 oldest and best-loved companion, had offered his mediation ; and 
 Devereux himself, in the unsuspicious confidence of friendship, had 
 done everything in his power to facilitate his meetings with his 
 mistress. The lady's charms had proved too powerful for the 
 friend's faith; he sought her for himself, and won so far upon her 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 25 
 
 relations, that the unhappy girl had only escaped their persecutions 
 by her sudden death. Whisper of suicide got about. The betrayed 
 and wretched lover forced his treacherous friend into a duel ; they 
 fought at Calais, where Devereux had been left for dead upon the 
 field. Many months elapsed before his outward wounds were healed ; 
 those of the mind were incurable. His physicians had recommend- 
 ed travelling ; all places had become alike to him ; and, unable to 
 find rest in any, he had wandered almost all over Europe, when an 
 accidental delay in his remittances had detained him in the town 
 where he had encountered Morn. 
 
 It was now Casimir's turn to relate what had befallen him since 
 their meeting, and he had now, at least, the satisfaction of detailing 
 his wrongs to a sympathizing ear. 
 
 " You have been deceived only by the common herd of egotists, 
 the rabble of humanity, but I by the friend of my infancy. Your 
 beloved yet lives, and lives for you, the silent grave hides mine ; 
 you may find a remedy, I never can. You would gladly renounce 
 the world, you say, do so, but let me share your solitude. But, 
 I repeat, your case admits of remedy." 
 
 "Remedy, what remedy?" echoed Morn. "Good Heaven, my 
 dear Devereux, how little you know of people in this country ! " 
 
 " The people in this country are very like the people in every 
 other country," replied Devereux. " I can put it in your power to 
 take a revenge worthy of them at least," added he, after a pause, and 
 with a bitter smile. 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 " Only give me your word to throw no obstacle in my way, and I 
 will bring the whole pack on all fours in a very short time. The old 
 miser shall give you his daughter, the minister shall offer you all the 
 ribbons and trumpery in his gift, and that without witchcraft. Fair 
 and virtuous maidens may be won by other qualifications than beauty 
 or honesty ; honors and dignities are not always, or often, the reward 
 of talents, or knowledge, or industry." 
 
 " But explain yourself a little, what is it you propose to do ? " 
 
 " 0, the means will be very simple. Come, your word that you 
 will not thwart me in my project of making fools of the dignitaries 
 in this good and electoral city. I will use no dishonest means." 
 
 "Well, be it as you will; I have little reason to spare them, 
 Heaven knows ! What is your plan of operations ? " 
 
 " I must first know my men. Let me become acquainted with 
 the field before I show my line of battle. As a preliminary, how- 
 ever, you will do me the favor to make use of my new carriage , I 
 shall put another pair of horses to it to-morrow ; you must drive 
 
26 THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 about, while I keep in the back-ground, and draw the public atten- 
 tion on you as much as possible. As to your lovely neighbor, give 
 her to understand that you have had a large sum bequeathed you in 
 England." 
 
 Morn shook his head, not altogether pleased, and yet unable to 
 restrain his laughter. He had given his word to humor Devereux's 
 whim, and as to the sentence of the " Residence," when the hoax 
 should be known, he troubled himself little about that. Whatever 
 were the results, he had made up his mind to leave the dominions 
 of his Highness the Elector. Perhaps the punch, which had served 
 as a supplement to their repast, might have had something to do 
 both with the proposal and its acceptance. 
 
 THE EQUIPAGE. 
 
 On the following morning Devereux was early up and dressed. 
 
 Morn would fain have obtained some further explanation of his 
 strange freak, but Devereux was immovable, vanished, he knew 
 not whither, shortly after, and appeared no more for the greater 
 part of the day. Instead of Devereux, came his German servant, 
 Felix, to present himself to his new mastor, and set forth his new 
 qualifications. 
 
 " Do not forget the principles, faith and honesty," said Morn, 
 when he had listened to the enunciation of his valet's capabilities. 
 
 " Honesty, I can promise you, sir," was the answer, " and fidel- 
 ity you will inspire me with." 
 
 The answer pleased, and Felix was installed with Morn under the 
 same conditions as those agreed upon with Devereux. 
 
 Towards noon Count Von Kreb's name was announced. The 
 young courtier advanced to Morn with open arms. " My dear fel- 
 low, how are you ? It is a whole century since we met. First let 
 me congratulate you on your acquisition, though it is my own loss. 
 Ah! my two glorious bays. But your homme d'affaires is a 
 clever fellow, up to every point about a horse ; you have a glori- 
 ous purchase. Upon my soul, I loved these two creatures as my 
 heart's blood ; if I had not outrun my income confoundedly of late 
 the Elector himself should not have had them for his whole stud." 
 
 " Have you been paid, my lord count," stammered Morn, his face 
 flushing scarlet, " or must I " 
 
 "All right, my dear friend, not a word of that," cried the Count ; 
 "I came with a very different purpose. Baron Van "Wolpern 
 would insist upon my recommending his place, Dreileben, to you, as 
 your agent there says you are on the look-out for an investment ; 
 but, on my honor, though I could not refuse one friend, it goes 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 27 
 
 against my conscience to palm off such a desert on another. It 
 will not bring one-and-a-half per cent., and he asks a hundred and 
 fifty thousand gilders for it. Do you know the place at all ? " 
 
 " No," said Morn, curious to hear what would come next. 
 
 " I entreat you, then, by all that is sacred, to go and look at the 
 wilderness ; not a hamlet to be seen for some miles round, nothing 
 under your windows in front but the Rhine, nothing behind but 
 mountain and forest. One look will be enough to frighten you off 
 the bargain, unless you have a mind to send a bullet through your 
 head from sheer ennui, before you have lived there a month ; then, 
 indeed, you could not do better than buy Dreileben. Now, with 
 the property Dame Fortune has flung in your lap, you are entitled 
 to look for something better. There is my estate, for instance, a 
 real principality you must admit, a splendid locale, in the midst 
 of corn-fields, a soil like a garden, right of forest, vineyards, mead- 
 ows, territorial jurisdiction, and you shall have it for a hundred 
 and ninety thousand, cash down. Just reflect a little, and only 
 three quarters of an hour's drive from the residence. Heavens, 
 what sums it has cost me in improvements ! I have an account 
 here, ah, no, confound it, I have the worst memory, I must have 
 left it in my desk ; but, my dear fellow, why not come and see for 
 yourself? come, give me your promise, name your time." 
 
 Much in the same style did the noble Count run on for some time 
 longer. Morn perceived that Devereux had really commenced 
 operations, as he said. He promised gravely to come and look at 
 the estate at his earliest convenience, and Count Krebs took leave 
 with the most lavish assurances of regard. At dinner time, Dev- 
 ereux made his appearance, evidently extremely diverted with the 
 farce he was acting. Morn, on the contrary, was more depressed. 
 " You will make mankind yet more contemptible in my eyes," said 
 he. " Not a week ago, this very Count Krebs held me unworthy 
 of a look. I was never more surprised than when I saw him enter 
 my room." 
 
 " If men seem more contemptible to you, my friend," answered 
 Devereux, " the fault is theirs, not mine. The witty Count was 
 pointed out to me, by the master of the hotel where I sent my ser- 
 vants, as having horses which he was desirous of parting with, and 
 the animals are really worth what I gave for them. When the 
 hotel-keeper heard that they were for you, and that you had become 
 a rich man, he praised you up to the skies. When I inquired about 
 an estate, a broker made his bow in less than a quarter of an hour, 
 and offered me ten, at least, every one being, as he swore, a perfect 
 paradise. Count Krebs swore, by all his gods, that you were 
 
28 THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 neither more nor less than a saint ; that you deserved, years ago, to 
 be made Prime Minister ; that things would have looked very dif- 
 ferent in the Electorate, and nobody knows what besides. It is 
 long since I have been so much amused. ' Come, my friend, cheer 
 up, and play out the play. . We must make all the puppets dance 
 to the same tune." 
 
 In due time, Devereux's splendid new equipage drove up to the 
 door, with Felix behind, in a rich livery. Count Kreb's horsea 
 really merited his eulogium ; they were superb animals. The whole 
 street was in commotion, almost every inhabitant loitering about 
 the causeway, or standing at their windows, to discover the owner 
 of so magnificent a " turn-out." But, when Morn appeared, and 
 was assisted in by his gayly-attired servant, there was no end of the 
 conjectures and inquiries. It will be easily supposed that the 
 fair Caroline was neither the least anxious nor the least interested. 
 
 " I 'd give these six kreutzers, ay, that I would, the whole six, 
 to know whom that carriage belongs to," said old Komanus, jing- 
 ling in his hand the kreutzers he had just received for a red her- 
 ring. 
 
 " That is easily learnt," replied his daughter. " Frau Weber 
 (Morn's landlady) must know." 
 
 " To be sure, she must, my child," said the old gentleman, button- 
 ing up his coin in a great hurry, as if he feared to be taken at his 
 word ; " and I '11 go and ask her, that costs nothing." 
 
 " O, my heavens, who should it belong to but to the Referen- 
 dary ! Have n't you heard of his extraordinary good luck, then ? 
 Well, I don't begrudge it him, for he is really an angel of a man, 
 and has just got a whole wagonful of gold from England. They say 
 he 's now the richest man in the dominions of our gracious Elector. 
 His servant told me so himself, and he had it from the English mer- 
 chant who is stopping in the house." 
 
 The old miser stared with leaden eye and open mouth, as if sud- 
 denly afflicted with lockjaw, and, without another word, went home 
 again, and sat himself down in silence in the grimy leather-bottomed 
 chair in the back of his shop. Caroline came dancing down to hear 
 the news. For a long time her father gave her no answer. He 
 had made it a law to himself never to mention Morn's name. 
 
 "0, Lord! " groaned he at last, " to think of such a piece of luck 
 befalling a paltry, lounging, good-for-nothing son of a good-for-noth- 
 ing father, who has cheated me out of my whole property ; while a 
 poor old honest man like me must toil and moil night and day to 
 scrape a fe\v pence together. Is that justice, is that the reward of 
 honesty ?" and he looked ready to cry. 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 29 
 
 " But who knows whether it 's true or no ? " said the worthy elder, 
 brightening with the thought. " Wagon full of money ? pooh ! 
 from England ? pooh ! by a lucky speculation ? pooh, pooh, pooh ! 
 I was not born yesterday, Frau "Weber." And Herr Romanus 
 plucked off his queer-looking little jasey, twirled it about, as in 
 great mental agitation he was wont, and rubbed his hands together 
 till the dry, withered members threatened to ignite. 
 
 Many were the conjectures and remarks to which Morn's gay 
 equipage gave rise that day. It had even excited the notice of the 
 Elector, as Morn drove past the palace. On the two succeeding 
 days the " excitement " increased. Devereux had given out that 
 his friend had gained a considerable sum in England ; and when he 
 began to inquire about an estate, the word considerable acquired a 
 more " considerable " meaning. Count Krebs, who always dealt in 
 superlatives, swore, by all the saints in the calendar, that Morn was 
 become the richest individual in that part of Germany; he played 
 with his hundred thousands ; he must own whole provinces in the 
 East and West Indies, &c., &c. There is nothing to which people 
 like better to give credit than to the incredible. It is no uncommon 
 thing to see an upright, simple-minded man held very cheap ; but 
 to take a fool or a lunatic for a saint is the easiest thing in the 
 world. People can find absurdity in the wisest man, with all the 
 facility imaginable ; but let a Cagliostro undertake to work a mira- 
 cle, and he is run after by high and low. If it had been said, 
 Morn had got a hundred thousand guilders, people would have 
 doubted, but millions, that produced conviction at once. 
 
 " It is intelligible enough now why Morn gave up his place as 
 Referendary," said the President Yon Bitterblolt, to his father, the 
 Privy Counsellor. " I thought at first that he had taken offence at 
 the omission of his name among the promotions." 
 
 " In fact, it is awkward enough that he was passed over," re- 
 turned the Privy Counsellor ; " but who can always tell how things 
 may turn out ? We might have made room for him well enough. 
 There 's your sister, too. I really think the girl has taken a fancy 
 to him, and, as the matter now stands, she could hardly do better 
 for herself." 
 
 " Nor for any of us, papa. Could not we find some excuse for 
 the past?" 
 
 The father and the son laid their heads together. The Privy 
 Counsellor took the first opportunity of praising the rare talents 
 and services of the ex-Referendary to his Highness the Elector. 
 Such a man must, by all means, remain in the service of the state, 
 particularly as Morn had lately gained a large fortune by some for- 
 
30 
 
 THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 tunate speculations in England. It would be a shame if so much 
 wealth should be squandered out of the country, &c., &c. 
 
 " Hum," said the Elector, " I was wondering what made you all 
 so suddenly zealous in Morn's favor. The Finance Minister, Babe, 
 was quite eloquent in his praise but a little while ago." 
 
 This speech went like an arrow to the Privy Counsellor's heart ; 
 for the Baron Yon Rabe had also a daughter to marry, and he, too, 
 wanted money. 
 
 " Rabe ever maintained," continued his Highness, " that Morn, 
 as secretary to the commission of survey in the new territory, 
 had done the whole work, while others pocketed the reward and the 
 credit." 
 
 The Privy Counsellor smiled with affected indifference, while 
 turning sick with fear and rage ; and swore, in his heart of hearts, 
 war to the knife to the Finance Minister, Von Rabe. Morn, in 
 the mean time, had received an invitation to pay the Finance Minis- 
 ter a visit. 
 
 " I am delighted, my dear sir, that my heartfelt wishes for your 
 advantage seem likely at last to be fulfilled," said the minister, with 
 his most gracious smile. " There was a strong opposition some- 
 where. I was never more surprised than when I heard you had 
 been so unaccountably passed over. I felt it my duty to make a 
 representation on the subject to his Highness the Elector himself; 
 in fact, I told him frankly that the post of President of the Cham- 
 ber, which Yon Bitterblolt contrived to appropriate to himself, was 
 yours by every rule of justice. In consequence of my remon- 
 strance, his Highness has been graciously pleased to fix you in my 
 department, and I have now the honor to present Privy Finance 
 Counsellor Morn with the diploma of his appointment." 
 
 Morn laid the diploma on a table near him without opening it ; 
 thanked the minister for his condescension ; with a smile, that was 
 bitter in spite of himself, begged leave respectfully to decline all and 
 every appointment of the kind. 
 
 He was scarcely at home again before the carriage of Count Yon 
 Bitterblolt stopped at his door. 
 
 " You see I have come in search of you myself at last," said the 
 Count, bestowing a paternal embrace on Casimir. " Where have 
 you hidden yourself this century ? We must not forget each other 
 in this way. Yon Rabe has played me a shameful trick in getting 
 you appointed in his department instead of mine. I shall never 
 forgive him for it. Apropos, my daughter will never forgive me, 
 if I forget her message. She gives a ball on Wednesday, and 
 oharged me to give you a special invitation. You will not fail her, 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 I hope ; ladies, you know, will not hear of disappointments on these 
 occasions." 
 
 Countess Ida Yon Bitterblolt met with one this time, however. 
 Casimir Morn met the Privy Counsellor's superabundant courtesies 
 with cold politeness ; and his Excellency was beaten out of the field 
 for the present, though not absolutely deprived of hope for the 
 future. Morn's misanthropy was on the increase : he despised alike 
 their present flattery and their former scorn ; of the two, the flattery 
 was the more offensive, and the more his would-be friends endeav- 
 ored to exalt him, the more deeply humiliated he felt. He longed 
 for nothing so much as for solitude, that he might escape the sight 
 and hearing of their sickening baseness. 
 
 " The miserable wretches ! " he exclaimed, " do they take me for 
 one of themselves ? My six years' service availed me nothing, but 
 the mere report of wealth brings them about me like crows scenting 
 at a carrion. I might be a fool a villain no matter, I am 
 supposed to be a millionaire, and there is not a quality of heart or 
 mind which they are not willing to give me credit for. The comedy 
 is too disgusting, Devereux." 
 
 " It is capital sport," replied Devereux. " But the master stroke 
 is still to be played. The conquest of the fair E-omanus is yet to 
 be achieved." 
 
 THE VICTORY* 
 
 THE conquest was already half made before the friends began the 
 attack. Old Romanus, who had hitherto made it a rule to avoid 
 all mention of Morn's name, had it now on his own lips from morn- 
 ing till night. There could be no doubt of the million any longer ; 
 the whole city rung with the news he had refused an appoint- 
 ment in the Ministry, and the Minister of Finance, Von Rabe, and 
 his Excellency Count Von Bitterblolt, were ready politely to cut 
 each other's throats, to obtain Casimir Morn for a son-in-law. 
 
 " They say he will choose Countess Ida," said Caroline, slyly 
 affecting an air of dejection, and glancing her bright blue eyes on 
 her father. 
 
 The old gentleman made no answer, but nodded his head with a 
 cunning look, and reckoned some imaginary sum with his fingers. 
 "Pah, pah, all stuff nonsense what has she got, I ask; what 
 has she got ? Nothing ! a ruined family, root and branch ! How 
 that pleases me in the lad Morn ! he has got his money by honest 
 
32 THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 trade ; but his father was a rogue, an arrant rogue, and has made 
 me as poor as Job, my girl. I shall never get a penny of all he 
 owed me." 
 
 There was a knock at the door, and the well-known stranger, the 
 Englishman Devereux, entered. Caroline blushed like a carnation, 
 and Herr Romanus opened his eyes and mouth. 
 
 " I have a little business to transact with you, Herr Romanus, if 
 you have no objection," said the stranger, with a courteous bow. 
 " You might find it highly advantageous." 
 
 "Business; lam at your lordship's service. Do me the great 
 honor to sit down." 
 
 " Mr. Casimir Morn, whose affairs in England I have had the 
 honor of managing, wishing to retire from business, as he finds his 
 income amply sufficient, (' So, so, so,' muttered Romanus,) has been 
 to view the estate of Dreileben, which is understood to be for sale ; 
 he seems inclined to purchase it." 
 
 " How, he indeed ! Dreileben ! but why Dreileben ? it 's a 
 large purchase, ticklish speculation, very: they will ask a con- 
 founded price, eh ? " 
 
 " Mr. Morn has taken a fancy to it, and the name pleases him. 
 He has often said it would be a Paradise for two, or perhaps three 
 friends, who would desire to pass their lives together. By the 
 three he means himself, his future wife, and one esteemed friend, 
 under which appellation he is good enough to understand me." 
 
 Caroline's blood mounted to her temples; what could be the 
 matter with her ? 
 
 " But you are perfectly right about the price, Mr. Romanus. 
 Baron Yon Wolpern demands no less a sum than a hundred and 
 fifty thousand guilders: or, ready money, a hundred and thirty 
 thousand, Mr. Morn will pay ready money, but," 
 
 " Ready money, a hundred and thirty thousand ! so, so ! an ex- 
 cellent young an excellent young man." 
 
 " Still the price seems enormous. He wishes that the bargain 
 should be concluded by some one who understands the business 
 better than he does. He would be willing to reward the trouble of 
 any person inclined to act as his agent in this matter, by a gratifica- 
 tion of a hundred guilders for every thousand abated in the pur- 
 chase-money. Now, he maintains that there is not a man in the 
 city so well qualified to transact business of this nature as Mr. 
 Romanus." 
 
 " Your humble servant," said the old man, glancing suspiciously 
 at his visitor. He could not understand any one giving away even 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 33 
 
 civility for nothing. " Now, if you would have the goodness to take 
 this commission on yourself." 
 
 " Hundred for every thousand : I am at your lordship's com- 
 mand." 
 
 " It is a matter of extreme vexation to Mr. Morn that he has 
 not been on such good terms with you of late years as formerly." 
 
 "Trifles, tut mere trifles, mere trifles." 
 
 " He told me, that at first it was his intention to have put his 
 little capital in your hands instead of employing it in England ; and, 
 indeed, after that, he would have proposed a speculation in the 
 English funds, but your coolness towards him " 
 
 " Trifles, I tell you, thunder and lightning ! mere trifles ; and 
 how should I know what he meant ?" said the old man, half crying. 
 " Why was he so hard-hearted to a poor man like me, as not to say 
 a word about it when he was rolling in gold ? " 
 
 " But to return to this affair of Dreileben ; are you inclined to 
 undertake it ? " 
 
 Romanus walked up and down the room, with his hands behind 
 him, muttering and grumbling to himself for some minutes. " I '11 
 do it," said he, at length ; " the profit is small, very small, but times 
 are bad, very bad ; an honest tradesman must not let anything slip 
 through his fingers." 
 
 In eight days the purchase was completed. Herr Romanus made 
 a snug little profit of a thousand guilders, and went quite cheerfully 
 to Casimir to announce the conclusion of the business, and congratu- 
 late him on his acquisition. 
 
 "And we may be good friends again, my worthy Mr. Casimir," 
 said the old man with a smile, yet somewhat embarrassed. 
 
 " I desire nothing more earnestly, Mr. Romanus," said Casimir, 
 warmly. " Grant me but one favor make me and your daughter 
 happy at once." 
 
 " It can't be, Mr. Morn. Have n't I told you, over and over 
 again, that the money I lost through your father has made me as 
 poor as a church-mouse ? " 
 
 " Not so very poor, I should hope," said Morn, smiling. 
 
 " A beggar, sir ; I tell you, a downright beggar. Ah, worthy 
 Mr. Casimir, you are a rich man now, and you are an honorable 
 man ; you won't let a poor old man like me suffer ; you '11 make up 
 my loss to me ! " 
 
 " Well, and if I do then ? " 
 
 "Then I '11 thank you on my knees." 
 
 " But, your daughter ? " 
 
 " And the interest for seven years." 
 3 
 
34 THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 "Well, and the interest then ? " 
 
 " Then the whole city will say, what a worthy, honest, excellent, 
 upright man you are." 
 
 " But Caroline ? " 
 
 " And you must not forget that I gave your father the eight 
 thousand dollars in gold. Oh, Mr. Casimir, louis d'ors and Caro- 
 lines, all gold, all full weight. If you had seen them. Heaven 
 forgive me my sins ! I would not swear, Mr. Casimir, but it makes 
 my old eyes run over to think of it ! " 
 
 "But if I give you fifteen hundred Carolines for one Caroline ? 
 For your daughter Caroline ? " 
 
 " I beg your pardon, but, with the interest, it would be above 
 two thousand ! " 
 
 " And if I did not hesitate to give you the two thousand, as soon 
 as your daughter " 
 
 "You are jesting with me, Mr. Morn. You see what little I 
 have I want myself. I have been obliged to run in debt. Your 
 father's bankruptcy was the ruin of me. I can give the girl noth- 
 ing but what she carries on her back." 
 
 "Be it so, I will take her on your own terms." 
 
 "Why, then I I must ask the girl herself." 
 
 Herr Romanus betook himself to his daughter. Morn was ready 
 to dance for joy. He flew like one beside himself to Devereux, to 
 relate his success, and ask his sympathy, and Devereux gave it 
 heartily. 
 
 Within eight days the marriage contract was drawn out and 
 signed, and the lovely Caroline Romanus became a yet lovelier 
 Caroline Morn. Till Dreileben was ready for their reception. 
 Devereux had taken care to provide a suitable residence in the town. 
 
 THE FIRST OF APRIL. 
 
 "THE joke must be carried through," said the Englishman. 
 "The whole city bows down before you, dear Morn; even the 
 Court itself courts your friendship. We will turn over a new leaf 
 now. I shall give you out for poor, and see what sort of a 
 grimace your dear friends will make then. And when the con- 
 temptible crew have sunk themselves as low as possible, we will turn 
 our backs upon them forever. I have let Baron Von Wolpern into 
 the secret, for I must chastise the old curmudgeon, your father-in- 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 35 
 
 law, for the Jew's bargain he has driven with you. No remon- 
 strance he deserves it." 
 
 Devereux told the simple truth. The whole town were bowing 
 to the ground before the supposed millionaire. And how should 
 people, accustomed from their very childhood to value wealth, show, 
 luxury, above all earthly good, do otherwise ? how feel anything 
 but admiration and reverence for the amiable young man, who pos- 
 sessed the prettiest wife, the finest estate in the territory, and a 
 million ? The noblest and stiffest backs in the city bent in 
 homage to this new luminary. Every one was solicitous for the 
 notice of Herr Yon Morn ; every lip instinctively uttered the noble 
 prefix, without asking for the patent. Ministers, Grand every- 
 things, and Count everybodies, loaded him with invitations. At 
 some of the fetes where he was most pressingly invited, the electoral 
 family were present; the noble hosts were solicitous to present 
 Herr Von Morn to their Highnesses, and their Highnesses' reception 
 was most gracious ; but, strange to say, the object of all these flat- 
 tering attentions felt anything but flattered. Not for what he was, 
 but for what he had, were all these caresses lavished ; and it was 
 with no small violence to his feelings that he constrained himself to 
 go through the disgusting farce. 
 
 " I can bear it no longer," said Morn on one occasion, when a 
 stronger dose of incense than ordinary had been offered up ; and 
 Devereux in reply said, " We must carry it through ; I shall give 
 you out for poor." 
 
 Towards the latter end of March, Devereux had gone about with 
 a look of affected anxiety, and dropped mysterious hints of bad news 
 from England. He spoke of certain speculations being subject to 
 enormous losses, as well as enormous gains. " It was so fortunate 
 
 he had so many powerful friends in ," and so forth. Baron 
 
 Von Wolpera was seen to shake his head and look thoughtful, when 
 the sale of Dreileben was talked of " the purchase money was not 
 yet paid down." It was whispered that Morn's splendid new equi- 
 page would be disposed of privately : the town-house was announced 
 to be let. The news flew like wildfire through the town, with a 
 thousand additions. On theirs* of April the matter was placed 
 beyond a doubt, by Morn's driving about to all his new friends, 
 among whom it became known, with wonderful rapidity, that from 
 some he had requested loans, from others securities or their good 
 offices with the Elector for an appointment, &c. All those who, but 
 four-and-twenty hours before, had overwhelmed him with offers of 
 services, and half-stifled him with embraces, were in consternation at 
 this new state of affairs. Some were " grieved beyond measure," in 
 
36 THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 proper courtly phrase, and others excused themselves coldly " they 
 made it a rule never to be surety for any one ;" they had no interest; 
 some smiled with scarcely concealed malicious pleasure at the sud- 
 den vanishing of the fairy treasure. One thing was evident, there 
 was neither credit, money, nor interest, left in the whole city. 
 
 A splendid ball and supper at the house of his Excellency Count 
 Von Bitterblolt, at which Herr and Frau Yon Morn were to have been 
 present, was, for some unexplained cause, adjourned sine die. 
 With old Romanus the result of all this was rather more serious 
 than was intended. To him came Baron Yon Wolpern one fine 
 morning, accompanied by a lawyer of eminence, and politely re- 
 quested of him, as negotiator in the purchase of Dreileben, security 
 for the payment of the sum agreed on. 
 
 Romanus had certainly given no written surety for his son-in- 
 law ; but, in his eagerness to gripe the proffered gain, he had ver- 
 bally, and pretty plainly given it to be understood, that, to hasten 
 the purchase, he was ready to make advances ; but nothing was 
 further from his thoughts than to be taken at his word. The evil 
 reports that had been before flying about town had sorely disquieted 
 him, and Morn's evasive answer to the questions he put to him had 
 by no means tended to still the perturbation of his spirit. But when 
 the Baron and his lawyer made their appearance, he was driven 
 well-nigh crazy ! In a few hours after the Baron's visit he had a 
 fit of apoplexy the very mention of a physician made him furious, 
 and the evening saw the end of his cares and his life together. 
 
 DREILEBEN. 
 
 THIS sudden death changed the whole aspect of affairs. Ro- 
 rnanus left enormous wealth behind him, much more than had been 
 expected. Casimir Morn had now really become the millionaire for 
 which his rich and whimsical friend had compelled him to pass. 
 Dreileben had been bought in Morn's name, but the money had 
 been furnished by Devereux, to whom, by an agreement between him 
 and Morn, it had been immediately conveyed. Almost as much 
 disgusted with the world as his friend, Devereux had resolved to 
 end his days in some agreeable solitude. The charge of overlooking 
 the estate was to be Morn's ; he had positively refused to accept any 
 gift from his English friend. Both were now nearly equally 
 wealthy, but their plan of life remained the same. On the other 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 37 
 
 hand, the worthy citizens of faced about as if struck by a 
 
 conjurer's wand : " It was the first of April when we heard of this 
 gudden loss ; ah, the arch-jester, it was really too bad, but admirably 
 done too ! " High and low enjoyed the joke alike ; Morn's doors 
 were again besieged with visitors ; wealth and credit returned in a 
 wonderfully short time; the acceptance of securities and recom- 
 mendations was pressed as the greatest possible favor to the givers ; 
 and as to dinners, balls, concerts, &c., &c., there was no end of 
 them. 
 
 "I am heart-sick at all this," said Morn. " Come, Caroline, come, 
 Devereux, let us to Dreileben, and forget these whited mockeries. 
 I have been long enough a dupe. What more have I to do in the 
 world, as it is called ? Why should I \>e any longer a witness of 
 these hollow jugglers, the sport of their false smiles ? Be wise as 
 Solomon; pure as an angel; sacrifice yourself for society; be a 
 model of disinterestedness and beneficence but poor in this 
 world's goods, and you are nothing, or worse than nothing ! Every 
 blockhead will be exalted above you every cold-hearted egotist 
 sneer you down every, even acknowledged, scoundrel be honored 
 and caressed before you, if he but possess that mightiest of talismans 
 
 wealth." 
 
 As soon as the business of the inheritance was arranged, and the 
 house and business of old Romanus disposed of, Morn left the city, 
 in company with his wife and his friend, and has never since been 
 known to enter it. 
 
 About six years after these occurrences I had occasion to pay a 
 visit to the electoral city. I knew that my old university friend, 
 Casimir Morn, had formerly held some appointment there, and was 
 rejoicing in the prospect of renewing my acquaintance with him. 
 My earliest inquiries were concerning him. Few knew anything 
 about him ; at last I learnt that he was living at Dreileben, brood- 
 ing over his money-bags, as his father-in-law had done before him, 
 and keeping up no intercourse whatever with his neighbors. As 
 soon as I had gathered these particulars, I got into a chaise one fine 
 morning, and drove to Dreileben, musing and lamenting by the way 
 on the perverse accident that could have changed my open-hearted, 
 open-handed school friend into that most pitiful of created beings 
 a miser. 
 
 The road lay through a succession of richly cultivated fields, to a 
 forest, where, as the peasants informed us, the mansion was situated 
 
 on the banks of the Rhine. When I entered the forest, how- 
 ever, I found it no forest, but a delightful compromise between park 
 and garden, adorned on every side with graceful temples, the rarest 
 
38 THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 plants, and exquisite groups of statuary in the purest marble. The 
 expense of creating such a place must have been enormous. A 
 spacious and magnificent house, with extensive out-buildings for 
 agricultural purposes, stood before me, approached over a wide lawn 
 smooth as velvet, and skirted by a magnificent orangery. Every- 
 where I saw traces of an almost royal outlay, guided, however, by 
 a noble taste ; none whatever of the avarice attributed to the pos- 
 sessor. 
 
 As I was getting out of the carriage a servant in a rich livery 
 advanced to meet me, and, in answer to my inquiries for his master, 
 was " very sorry, but the family had left Dreileben that morn- 
 ing early, and were not expected back for some days." As there 
 was no help for it, I returned to town ; in another week, I repeated 
 the attempt, but with no better success ; the family were still absent. 
 As my stay in the city was limited, I felt greatly vexed at my 
 failure, and could not help expressing it in the circle I joined in the 
 evening. I was answered by a general laugh. 
 
 " If you were to go twenty times to Dreileben," said one of the 
 party to me, "you would get the same reception. You might have 
 been spared the trouble of going if you had mentioned your inten- 
 tion beforehand. No one, be he who he may, is ever admitted 
 within their doors. They have telescopes planted at certain points 
 commanding the road, so that they are never to be taken by sur- 
 prise. All the servants are previously instructed, and, as soon as 
 any one of them spies a visitor, he runs in to warn his misanthropical 
 masters." 
 
 Thus informed, I wrote to Morn, expressing my desire to see him 
 once more, and entreating that he would make me an exception to 
 his general rule. I received a courteous answer, and the assurance 
 that for me he would be at home ; the day and hour when I should 
 be expected were punctually named. 
 
 When I came within sight of the house, Morn advanced to meet 
 me, with his beautiful wife on his arm. Both received me with a 
 kindness and cordiality I had little expected, after all I had heard, 
 and presented me to their friend, Devereux ; he was a young man 
 about Morn's own age, of a graceful and highly prepossessing ex- 
 terior, and anything but cynical in appearance. In a quarter of an 
 hour we were the best friends in the world. I was entertained with 
 a magnificence that I have not always found even in princely 
 palaces. The interior of the house corresponded with the costliness 
 of the arrangements without. The library was splendid ; the walls 
 of all the larger rooms adorned with masterpieces of the greatest 
 painters ; and a music-room furnished with the finest instruments. 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 39 
 
 In my honor there was a concert such as I have seldom heard from 
 amateurs. The upper servants were all musical, and the heads of 
 the family performers of no ordinary pretensions. 
 
 Morn had two lovely children ; Devereux was still a bachelor, 
 and announced his determination of dying one. " And you are 
 really happy here in your beautiful retirement ? " said I, inquir- 
 ingly, when we were sitting in a pavilion in the garden, overlooking 
 the lordly Rhine. 
 
 Morn smiled. " Why not ? We form our own world here, and 
 it is our happiness to know nothing of the other by experience. If 
 we feel any curiosity about the proceedings of the fools, there are 
 the newspapers to inform us. We prefer, however, to learn what 
 the nobler spirits of other times have taught, or invented, or done ; 
 to learn it in the immortal legacy of works they have bequeathed 
 us. All that Nature, Art, and Science afford of fairest and noblest 
 surrounds us here. What is wanting to our heaven ? Intercourse 
 with the rapacious, mentally crippled, corrupt, self-seeking herd 
 without, would sully its purity, and make us partakers in their 
 well-deserved misery. Well is it for those who can free themselves 
 from the coil, and, living with and for themselves, look on the say- 
 ings and doings of what you call the world, as on a theatrical spec- 
 tacle, in which they are spectators, not actors." 
 
 These expressions led to a conversation on the true social relations 
 of the wise ; and it was then that Morn related his own and Dev- 
 ereux's stories, as I have repeated them to you. 
 
PAET II. 
 
 WHEN the Counsellor had concluded the history of his first Mil- 
 lionaire, Morn's conduct was warmly discussed, and variously com- 
 mented on. All agreed that his scorn of the world and absolute 
 seclusion must be looked upon as a revenge taken for its previous 
 neglect, when the chances turned in his favor ; but, while some of 
 the circle held him perfectly justifiable, if not praiseworthy, in such 
 indulgence of his feelings, others censured him loudly ; had his cir- 
 cumstances been different, he might have been excused ; but the 
 withdrawal from all intercourse with his fellows, pardonable as self- 
 defence in a poor man, was sheer egotism and narrow-hearted ness 
 in a rich one. 
 
 "Rich or poor," said one, "every man has a right to seek hia 
 own happiness in his own way, provided he injure no one in the 
 means selected." 
 
 " Will you tell us how a man, gifted alike by nature and fortune, 
 can withdraw himself from the active duties of life, without injuring 
 a great many ? " retorted an anti-Mornite. 
 
 "It is "easy to be philanthropic in theory," said another, "but, 
 honestly speaking, which of us would be inclined to sacrifice him- 
 self for the good of society, supposing his own views of happiness 
 to consist in the renunciation of it? Would you; or you; or 
 you?" 
 
 " Besides, Morn did not reject the world till the world rejected 
 him," added the first speaker. 
 
 " That is, he was cheated by a few knaves, from whom no one 
 in their senses would have expected anything else, and he did 
 not find everybody ready to make prompt acknowledgment of his 
 
 (40) 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 merits and services, some of them being, by the by, known only to 
 those interested in concealing them." 
 
 " Was he the only person who, because his situation was subordi 
 nate, has been obliged to submit in silence, while others engrossed 
 the fruits of his labors ? Right doing would be a mighty easy thing, 
 if applause and profit were its certain rewards." 
 
 These words produced a second dispute. Each defended his 
 own views with warmth, if not with judgment ; and the party sep- 
 arated more confirmed, or at least more obstinate, in their own 
 opinion than ever. At the next weekly meeting at the Forest 
 Counsellor's, some of the disputants took up the argument where 
 they had left it, and prepared to fight the battle manfully all over 
 again. The Counsellor remained faithful to his character for mod- 
 eration, and chose a middle path between Morn's censurers and his 
 eulogists. The party were getting somewhat warm, when our host 
 reminded us that we had not yet heard the story of the second Mil- 
 lionaire. There was an immediate silence, at which the Counsellor 
 dexterously profited to put an end to the dispute by the following 
 arration : 
 
 Some years ago, I was returning from Amsterdam, where I had 
 en sent by my government to obtain payment for some timber for 
 ip-building, about which some difficulties had arisen with the Dutch 
 government. I had succeeded beyond my expectation in my commis- 
 sim ; a new and more advantageous bargain had been made, and I 
 was congratulating myself on the credit I should obtain with my 
 government. It was evening : I was snugly packed in the corner 
 of my new travelling chaise, hugging myself on the prospect 
 of a\comfortable night's rest, after travelling the whole of the pre- 
 cedi^g night over some of the worst roads in Germany, and that is 
 sayirig much. I was soon shaken out of my doze into which I had 
 fallen by a tremendous jolt. My old servant, Kunz, who was on 
 the bW, was sent flying through the air, and deposited high and 
 dry on a bank by the road-side, before he had time to take the 
 pipe from his mouth, and I was projected with such force in the 
 rear of \he postilion, that he was under the horses' feet in a second. 
 Fortuna\ely, the animals, being natives, " and to the matter born," 
 took our mishap very coolly,* and stood quite still, while the bipeds 
 were scattering in all directions, as if it had been an adventure they 
 expected, *ttnd had made up their minds to. The axle-tree and a 
 spring of tjie chaise were broken, and so was the postilion's nose ; 
 I was quit for the fright, but poor Kunz had dislocated his shoulder. 
 With some difficulty and great exertion we managed to get the 
 chaise to the next village, and to the inn, or rather beer-house, 
 
42 
 
 THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 there was but one, and that a dirty, smoky den. I inquired imme- 
 diately for a smith and a wheelwright ; neither were to be had in 
 the place, and the landlord himself advised me to go to Hard, 
 where I should get all I wanted. " There were no better work- 
 men for many miles round than were to be found at Hard." 
 
 Poor Kunz was suffering greatly, and the Esculapius of the 
 village, who had been immediately summoned, could only shake 
 his head and lament that the surgeon had died a few weeks before 
 he himself never undertook operations. ' ' The best thing you can 
 do," said he, " is to take your servant to Hard, where you will find 
 an excellent surgeon." 
 
 " And where, then, is this same Hard ? " asked I ; " /know no 
 town of that name here." 
 
 " It is not a town ; it is a village, a short four miles hence." 
 
 " And how is it that the best artisans and the most skilful pro- 
 fessional men live in the villages instead of the towns? " 
 
 " Oh, that is the doing of the Schulze; he is a strange charac- 
 ter, a humorist, as it is called, a fool, /say, who can do noth- 
 ing like other people. He wants to make a city of his paltry vil- 
 lage, I believe. He has money enough; they say he is a mil- 
 lionaire, and it is like enough ; but he is a miserable, parsimoniom 
 wretch, and has as many whims as heirs. I know him well enough 
 though I have nothing to do with him, thank Heaven ! " 
 
 " And I shall find a good inn at Hard, you say ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes, certainly; a very good one. There are mineral 
 waters there. Ha Schulze has built a house there for the visitors 
 to the springs, and that will be his ruin in my humble opinion 
 that and the doctor he has thought fit to establish there ; a con- 
 ceited, ignorant body a mere quack, with his new-fangled no- 
 tions." 
 
 The old gentleman held forth long and loudly in dispraise of 
 his learned, or unlearned, brother or rival, whichever he migit be ; 
 nevertheless, as he admitted I should find the best surgeon, the 
 best wheelwright, and the best smith, in Hard, to Hard I resolved 
 to go. On the following morning, the chaise was patched up as 
 well as it could be with ropes and poles ; Kunz, who was still in 
 great pain, packed in as comfortably 1 " as circumstances admitted, 
 and despatched before me to the much-talked-of Hard; and the 
 weather being extraordinarily fine, and the way not easily mistaken, 
 I followed on foot. 
 
 Scarcely half a mile from the village I was leaving, there was a 
 sudden and striking improvement in the condition of the land. On 
 both sides of the carefully kept road were rows of fruit-trees, in the 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 43 
 
 finest order. The fields beyond seemed admirably cultivated ; not 
 a weed to be seen, the grass abundant, and of the richest quality. 
 Before me lay the village, consisting of cottages, not forming a 
 street, but scattered among trees, as in a great garden. In the 
 middle of the village, on a gentle eminence, rose the church. The 
 whole arrangement of the place, the style of building, and the ex- 
 traordinary fertility of the land around, the more agreeably sur- 
 prised me from the striking contrast it presented to all I had hith- 
 erto seen in this part of the country. 
 
 " Why, this village of yours is a perfect paradise, father," said 
 I to an aged peasant, who just then came up with me; "I have 
 seen no such land as this for many a mile." 
 
 "Yes, (rod be praised, there is no fault to be found with the 
 land !" returned the ancient, leaning on his stick to rest himself be- 
 side me as I stopped to look round me. 
 
 " How comes it that your village lies so scattered, so unlike the 
 other villages about ? " said I. 
 
 "Ugh!" replied the old man, with a discontented grunt, 
 "unlike it is, sure enough. Our village was burnt to the ground 
 about fifteen years ago, and we were obliged to build it so, because 
 the government would have it. They could n't have done it worse. 
 I have a good mile further to go to church every Sunday, and 
 that 's hard enough for us old folks, especially in winter, and some 
 must go further still. Ah ! it was a terrible fire, sure enough. 
 There were not five houses spared." 
 
 " And how did the fire happen? " 
 
 " Ugh ! Heaven knows ! People say all sorts of things ! 
 Some will have it the Schulze set it on fire himself, on purpose to 
 vex us ; but I don't say that exactly." 
 
 " But that is a terrible charge, indeed, against your Schulze." 
 
 "Ah!" said the elder, shaking his head significantly, "many 
 and many 's the trick he has played us. He was schoolmaster 
 here first ; bub he had interest somehow with the government, and 
 so he was palmed upon us as the Schulze. 0, he 's as cunning as 
 a fox, and as hard to catch ! " 
 
 "Is he rich?" 
 
 4 ' I believe you ; as rich as a Jew. But he can't enjoy his 
 money ; he lives poorer than any day-laborer. But he is caught 
 sometimes, cunning as he is," added the old man, chuckling. 
 "When the whim seizes him, he throws away his money by the 
 handful. He '11 ruin himself at last with his new-fangled nonsense ; 
 and who cares? He only uses his money to tyrannize over his 
 poor neighbors." 
 
44 THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 In this strain the ancient went on wandering, till I wished him 
 good morning, and he struck off through a by-path. 
 
 The view was so charming, so like our dreams of Arcadia, that, 
 involuntarily loitering on my way, I sat down under a tree to 
 enjoy it at my leisure. " How happy, how supremely happy, might 
 the dwellers in this paradise become, if Satan did not always take 
 a hand in the game of life ! " thought I. " Who but Satan could 
 have put it into the heads of the government to send a fellow here 
 to play the great man, and make these honest folks miserable ? " 
 
 While I thus mused an old woman passed, whom I immediately 
 hailed. 
 
 " Grood day, mother ! Whereabouts in the village is the public 
 house, can you tell me ? " 
 
 " Straight on, sir, on the left hand, near the church; I am the 
 landlady." 
 
 "So much the better. Then you can tell me at once what 
 accommodation I can have for myself and my servant for a few 
 
 "0," said the old lady with a discontented air, " that 's an- 
 other thing. I can't lodge gentlefolk ; I 've no convenience. 
 You must go to t'other house there, higher up on the hill. I saw a 
 broken gimcrack of a chaise there a while agone ; I suppose it was 
 yours." 
 
 "Do you see that little white house with the green shutters, 
 there?" continued the old woman, when I asked for some further 
 direction ; " that 's the Schulze's, and close to it is the big new inn 
 for strangers." 
 
 "0, and that belongs to the Schulze also, I suppose ? " 
 
 "Why, yes, and no, as one may say, it is his'n, and it is 
 not, like everything else hereabouts. It 's all his fault that it was 
 built." 
 
 " It is of no advantage to you, then ? " 
 
 " Not it, indeed, nor to any one else. Since he 's been in the 
 village, my house is not worth half what it was. God forgive him ! 
 he will have much to answer for at the last day. Yes, yes," con- 
 tinued she, grumbling, " I should change my plan, quotha. A pretty 
 thing, indeed, at my time of life, to go to school ! I was not to be 
 cozened that way, Mr. Schulze ! The heavens be praised ! I can 
 do without him or the house either, for the matter of that." 
 
 While she was speaking, I heard a sudden and warm strife of 
 tongues in one of the neighboring cottages. The old lady pricked up 
 her ears, and nodded her head with a smile of malicious satisfaction. 
 " Ah, ah ! old Gletchen 's catching it at last; serve her right, too, 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 45 
 
 serve her right ! " and the old dame trotted off, evidently well 
 pleased that one of her gossips had got into a scrape of some sort, 
 probably with the redoubtable village monarch himself. As I 
 passed the house whence the sounds proceeded, the door opened, 
 and a man, in a dress no way superior to that of a peasant, except 
 that it was scrupulously clean, came out. He was evidently dis- 
 pleased at something ; close to him came an old woman in tears, 
 who seemed to be deprecating his wrath, and after her walked a 
 young man, who held out his hand to the departing visitor, with the 
 words, "You are perfectly right, Master Schulze; I had warned 
 mother often enough," pronounced in a hearty tone. 
 
 " Well, well," returned the Schulze, with a kind of authorita- 
 tive kindness, " for this once, I will overlook it." 
 
 The old woman reiterated her assurances that the subject of 
 complaint, whatever it might be, should not again occur, and the 
 village despot walked off. He took the same path that had been 
 pointed out to me as the nearest to the inn I was in search of. I 
 quickened my pace. I had a curiosity to see the face of the griping 
 millionaire of whom I had heard so much in so short a time ; yet I 
 could not say why I should have any desire to see more of a man, 
 to whose advantage so little could be said by those who knew him 
 best. He went on so quickly that I should not have easily over- 
 taken him, if he had not stopped again to speak to some countrymen 
 coming from the village. We exchanged salutations as I came up, 
 and he gave me the "pas" civilly enough, and that was enough to 
 begin a conversation. It turned naturally enough upon the fruit- 
 fulness of the surrounding country. His manner was perfectly unas- 
 suming, but very decided, and his expressions betrayed a degree 
 of cultivation greatly beyond what might have been expected from 
 his rustic appearance. As to the land, he asserted roundly that it 
 was neither better nor worse than the other land in the neighbor- 
 hood, with which I had instituted a comparison greatly to the 
 advantage of the former ; the only difference he would admit was 
 the better cultivation. " That very circumstance," I said, "was 
 worthy all my admiration ! " 
 
 "Every proprietor lives here in the midst of his own land," 
 said the Schulze, " and thus it is the easier to overlook and culti- 
 vate it." 
 
 "But this rich pasturage, "'said I . 
 
 "You have not, perhaps, observed, that all the meadows lie 
 together and are well irrigated. We have also fine marl in the 
 neighborhood. So they have, or might have, in the other places 
 of which you spoke just now ; but the people are idle and ignorant 
 
46 THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 Nature is always a kind mother, but men do not always give them- 
 selves the trouble to understand her language ; they prefer their own 
 darkness to her light." This remark was somewhat too philosophi- 
 cal for a village schoolmaster or Schulze. I turned to look again at 
 my companion in his rustic tunic and coarse straw hat ; there was, I 
 thought, something beyond his condition in his countenance, I 
 might almost say noble. I fancied, moreover, that the features 
 were familiar to me. The Schulze returned my gaze with a pen- 
 etrating look. "Are you not," said he at length, " Adolphe Von 
 Rodern?" 
 
 " Von Rodern is my name," still unable to identify the person 
 before me. 
 
 He laughed, and held out his hand. " What, my slender friend, 
 
 once the delight of every bright eye in ? " I attempted to 
 
 withdraw my hand, for I took it into my head that my new acquaint- 
 ance was hoaxing me; but he held it fast, and went on "The 
 world goes well with you ; why, what a broad-shouldered, portly- 
 looking young man you are become ! And what good wind has 
 blown you hither from the golden middle path you love so well, 
 to such a by-way as the road to Hard ? I bid you heartily welcome, 
 however, since you came. What, do you not know me yet ? " 
 
 I stood looking stupid enough, I believe. I could not for my life 
 recollect where I had seen the speaker. Suddenly a ray of light 
 flashed on my mind. Was it could it be my university friend, 
 Engelbert? 
 
 " Engelbert it is, and no other." I was deeply moved ; the 
 golden days of my youth returned in a moment. I returned his 
 embrace heartily, and forgot in a moment all the ill that had been 
 spoken of him. He called a boy from a neighboring field, and bade 
 him run directly to his wife. " Say that I have found a brother," 
 said he ; " tell her to have the breakfast carried under the lime trees. 
 We will join her directly." 
 
 I was called upon immediately for a sketch of my life since we 
 had parted at Inbingen, the cause. of my present journey, and my 
 visit to Hard. The story of many of our former mutual friends 
 came in episodically ; and, among others, Morn's, you may be sure, 
 was not forgotten. "And now for yourself, my friend," said I, at 
 length ; " it is your turn now." 
 
 "I," replied Engelbert, laughing; "you may satisfy yourself 
 look at me. I am what I look like a peasant, and also Schulze 
 of this village." 
 
 " But, you strangest of beings ! how came you so ? Why, with 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 47 
 
 your fine talents and abundant knowledge, do I find you buried in 
 this remote nook of earth ? Can it be your free choice ? " 
 
 " My free choice ! " " And how long have you lived here ? " 
 " Nineteen years, and most happily." " Well, but explain your- 
 self a little." 
 
 " Another time ; eome to breakfast now. My wife and family 
 will be waiting for us." 
 
 We went on a little further, and a sudden turn of the path 
 brought us to the lime trees, under the shade of which sat a beau- 
 tiful woman of about thirty years of age, in a rustic dress, with 
 an infant on her lap. At her feet sat another, under two years of 
 age, to whom a rosy-cheeked, golden-haired brother was bringing 
 flowers. Two elder boys, apparently between the ages of seven 
 and twelve, were standing near their lovely mother, with books in 
 their hands, and their great blue eyes fixed on me with curiosity. 
 Their dress was like their father's, and in no way differing, either 
 in form or material, from that of peasants. The Schulze presented 
 me to his wife, over whose delicate features a gentle blush passed 
 as she returned my salutation. I was speedily acquainted with the 
 whole charming group. The children lay on the grass, round a large, 
 exquisitely clean, wooden vessel full of milk, which, with the ordi- 
 nary black bread, formed their breakfast. White bread and newly 
 churned fresh butter were brought for me", with a flask of old 
 Burgundy. "I know of old your hostility to milk breakfasts," 
 said Engelbert. It seemed to me like a dream ; the sight of this 
 really picturesque group, and the extraordinary rencontre with 
 Engelbert as a peasant he who had been admitted to be the best 
 endowed by nature, the richest in acquired knowledge amongst our 
 whole circle at the university ! Somewhat eccentric he had alwayp 
 been considered, but his singularities had been excused as the harm 
 less freaks of a young, inexperienced, and enthusiastic head. But 
 that such a one, destined by nature and fortune for the most splendid 
 career, should end in becoming a village schoolmaster and Schulze 
 who, in Heaven's name, could ever have expected this ? 
 
 His Augusta so he called his wife his children, were evi- 
 dently most fondly attached to him, as he was to them. How could 
 this man be so selfish, so grasping, so hard-hearted as he had been 
 painted to me ? And yet the wealth he was said to possess a wak 
 ened my suspicions ; it had been well known, at the university, that 
 his family was very moderately endowed with the goods of fortune ; 
 and then how did this opulence tally with the simplicity, not to say 
 parsimony, exhibited in the dress and style of living of his family ? 
 A miser he must certainly be. I resolved to lengthen my stay, and 
 
48 THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 examine my man a little closer. After breakfast, we continued our 
 walk up the hill. 
 
 " I cannot lodge you under my humble roof," said Engelbert, 
 "for I have no spare room. But you will find everything you can 
 want in the inn. I have established baths there over the sulphur 
 springs, and you may take your choice of the rooms, as the season 
 has not yet begun. No visitors will be here before next month." 
 
 THE HOUSEHOLD. 
 
 THE wheelwright had already my carriage, and the surgeon my 
 servant, in their hands. The mechanic undertook the speedy reno- 
 vation of the chaise, for a hint from the all-powerful Schulze sufficed 
 to make him lay all other work aside. The surgeon had put Kunz's 
 arm in its place again, but it was excessively swollen, and at least 
 a week's quiet was pronounced necessary for him. As far as I was 
 personally concerned, I was well pleased with the delay. Engelbert 
 and his family were well worthy of a visit on purpose. 
 
 Everything about this humorist interested me the more, because 
 I was every hour more thoroughly convinced that to few mortals 
 was assigned so large a portion of pure happiness as to him. His 
 house, like tha* of every other peasant, stood in the midst of a well- 
 ordered flower and kitchen garden. Within reigned the strictest 
 cleanliness, and not simplicity alone, but downright poverty. The 
 sitting-room for the whole family contained but chairs and tables of 
 the plainest kind, a wooden clock, and a small looking-glass. Engel- 
 bert himself, his wife, and children, slept on mattresses stuffed with 
 leaves and moss. The house linen was coarse, but of a dazzling white- 
 ness. . The table service might have been used in a convent of Capu- 
 chins. When I insisted one day upon dining with the family, they 
 bade me welcome, laughing, and warned me that my fare would not 
 be sumptuous. The soup was excellent. We had one dish of roast 
 meat, and abundance of vegetables, young, and well-cooked. The 
 bread was common black bread ; the only drink a kind of thin beer 
 or water ; and this was the whole fare. And yet I thought I had 
 never dined so well. The charming mother, surrounded by the five 
 cherub heads ; Engelbert, with his playful wisdom, the heartfelt 
 happiness of all made a deep impression on me. I confess I thought 
 myself in heaven, and felt provoked when Engelbert made himself 
 tterry with what he was pleased to call my sufferings as a town 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 49 
 
 gourmand at his rustic table. . The only expense in the house was 
 in Engelbert's study. There he had a small, but choice collection 
 of books, maps in abundance, an electrifying machine, an air-pump, 
 and other instruments of physical science. The study was also 
 the school-room of the children, and Augusta's boudoir, for here 
 stood her piano, and in some of the empty drawers of her husband's 
 cabinet she kept some finer articles of dress. 
 
 " Admirable ! " said I. " But your family will outgrow your 
 play-room, my dear Engelbert. You must think of extending it." 
 
 " Not before ten years," returned he. " The temple of our hap- 
 piness is small, but our happiness itself is great. We have more 
 than room enough." 
 
 " You are really and truly happy in these relations ? " 
 
 " Look at these ! " said Engelbert, pointing to his wife and chil- 
 dren. " What joyous health in every look and gesture ! And 
 these noble forms are animated by yet nobler souls. Here is my 
 kingdom my republic my all! I enjoy life in reality, not in 
 appearance, as you do in your city palaces, full of inconvenient con- 
 veniences, and your sickening and poverty-stricken villages. I have 
 enough for the real wants of life, and ample sphere of action for 
 my mental powers. I live apart from the splendid misery of a cor- 
 rupt refinement, but not from the nobler humanity. These are the 
 great immortals! (pointing to his books.) To me lies open the 
 bosom of Nature the glory of God the way of eternity ! What 
 more should I ask or seek for ? " 
 
 I pressed his hand, but with some embarrassment, for I knew not 
 well how to answer him. I might have said, you are an enthusiast. 
 But he was in the right, and I felt it ; and also that, in many of 
 our social relations, we are abundantly absurd, and but too often sac- 
 rifice the real good of life to our conventional notions. I might 
 have frankly admitted, you are in the right ; but then I felt that 
 he had wandered so widely from the accustomed path his ideas 
 and motives were so little in harmony with the ideas and motives 
 of the age, from and with which I had been and still was acting 
 that a verbal acquiescence, while it was all I could give, would be 
 of little value. 
 
 I could not sufficiently admire his wonderful activity. He farmed 
 on his own account, and took not merely a superintending, but an 
 actual share in the business of the farm. His office of justice gave 
 abundant employment, one might have thought, and yet it seemed 
 to be merely a supplementary one to him. Every day he spent 
 some hours alone in his study, and his two elder boys received 
 instruction from him. ' These children were taught, all they were 
 4 
 
50 THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 taught, thoroughly. The trees of the forest, the plants of the gar- 
 den, the geology of the neighborhood, were familiar to them, not 
 only in appearance, but in their nature and properties. They 
 called them by their scientific names, for they had learned no others. 
 The prism, the magnet, the microscope, were familiar to them as 
 their ordinary toys. The glorious map of the heavens was open to 
 their constant observation, and they had been early rendered familiar 
 with the starry host. 
 
 As Engelbert took upon himself the education of the elder chil- 
 dren and all out-door business, Augusta labored in the same spirit in 
 her department. As well as theSisual household arrangements, the 
 care and direction of all the land whose produce was destined for 
 domestic supply ; the corn, flax, hemp, &c. ; the management of the 
 horses, sheep, cattle, goats, &c., belonging to the farm, were super- 
 intended by her. Here she was absolute sovereign, and Engelbert 
 laughingly acknowledged himself as subject. 
 
 " But, after all, what I desire to know is, how you came here," 
 said I to him one morning. " I admit that all I see is admirable ; 
 yet, with your noble faculties, you might surely have done your 
 country other and larger service than by becoming the Schulze of a 
 paltry village." 
 
 He promised me an answer, and one fine Sunday morning, which 
 he had promised to give up to me entirely, he came to fulfil his 
 engagement. We went into the garden of the inn, which had been 
 laid out in excellent taste for the visitors to the springs. The 
 breakfast was prepared for us in a vine-canopied arbor, commanding 
 a splendid view of the surrounding country. Some coffee was 
 brought for me, but Engelbert remained true to his rustic fare 
 milk and rye-bread. 
 
 " And now," said he, when we had breakfasted, " I am ready to 
 satisfy your curiosity. In the mean time, Augusta is busy with 
 the children ; afterwards we will take a walk; then we go to church. 
 The pastor, and some few other friends, will dine with us. In the 
 afternoon, the young people of the village propose to give you a 
 concert ; and in the evening we shall have a dance here, and you 
 must be one of the dancers. And now hear and edify : 
 
 " I left the university half a year later than you did," contin- 
 ued Engelbert. "My guardian wished me to remain some time 
 longer, but I put thirty louis d 'ors in my pocket, and set off on a 
 tour through Germany into Switzerland ; thence I wandered into 
 France. From Provence I crossed the sea to Naples, and came 
 home through Rome and Vienna. Two louis d'ors, out of my 
 thirty, I brought back with me, for I had travelled mostly on foot 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 51 
 
 lived chiefly on bread and water, with an occasional glass of wine, 
 and slept in barns and outhouses for nothing. I returned home 
 just as my guardian was thinking of advertising me in the news- 
 papers. He was extremely displeased with my proceedings, but in 
 my own opinion I had gained as much instruction in my pedestrian 
 tour through foreign countries, as I should have done from the chair 
 of a professor. I passed my examination; my acquirements were 
 extolled, and I obtained an appointment in the Woods and Forests, 
 (without salary, however,) by way of initiating me into public busi- 
 ness. After the lapse of a year I presented myself as a candidate 
 for promotion in my line. My superiors eulogized my activity, but 
 objected to my age. I was only just three-and-twenty. Good, 
 thought I ; if that be all, that is a fault that will mend every day. 
 In another year I came again, and modestly proffered my claim to 
 some Liliputian office. 
 
 " ' You have some property, I understand, Mr. Engelbert ?' said 
 the President to me. 'Why don't you dress better? You are 
 really not presentable.' 
 
 " ' Your Excellency,' I answered, 'the State has a right to expect 
 good service from me, but has nothing to do with my clothes.' 
 
 " His Excellency took my answer very much amiss, and I was 
 dismissed with a cool bow. It happened about this time that 
 there was a dispute between our court and a neighboring one 
 respecting some secularized church property. The right was appar- 
 ently on the side of the adverse party ; but I had, by accident, dis- 
 covered in the archives of the Woods and Forests some documents 
 which must inevitably decide the cause in our favor. I wrote 
 thereupon a defence of the claim of our court, printed it, together 
 with the original document, and transmitted both to the minister 
 to be laid before the king. My production had great success. 
 I received the order of merit ; that is to say, an ell of ribbon to 
 dangle at my button-hole ; and, as I afterwards heard, I was looked 
 upon as a rising man. Unluckily, I did not know what to do with 
 the ribbon, and sent it back again with a respectful intimation that 
 I had written neither for vanity nor any view to self-interest, but 
 simply from a love of justice ; and that orders and ribbons were 
 of no use to me. This brought down upon me the whole army 
 of ribbon givers and takers. His Excellency the President of the 
 Woods and Forests told me plainly that he took me for a fool, 
 that the court was highly displeased, and that advancement was not 
 to be thought of from that quarter. About the same time, I lost 
 my guardian, who committed suicide when I attained my majority. 
 The cause was made manifest soon enough. He had spent not only 
 
52 THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 his own fortune, but the greater part of mine. I was heartily sorry 
 for the man ; if he had but possessed courage enough to tell me 
 so, he might have spared himself: I would have forgiven him 
 freely. His property, that is to say, what remained of it, was 
 sold. Of mine, four thousand guilders were all that fell to my 
 share. His only child, a daughter, was sent to the orphan asylum. 
 Poor child, her fate was a ha'rd one ! I had youth and health, 
 vigor of mind and body ; I could easily replace what I had lost. 
 I should have blushed to visit the sins of the father upon the 
 child. I invested my four thousand guilders, and gave up the 
 interest for the education of the child, or for her maintenance till 
 she should marry. But, for the orphan-house I would have none 
 of it. The best orphan asylum, like all other institutions for edu- 
 cation out of the domestic circle, is only an institution for the cor- 
 ruption of morals. 
 
 " The question was now, what I should do with myself? The State 
 refused my services, because my coat was not to its liking. I shook 
 the dust from my feet, therefore, in my native place, and left it to 
 try and be useful elsewhere. I had kept money enough, according 
 to my own view of the matter, to maintain me till I could find some 
 employment. While yet a boy at school, I had read, somewhere, a 
 treatise which had made a deep impression on me. The subject was 
 ' Of Unnecessary Necessities.' I had often wondered at the 
 numberless superfluities which men choose to consider as necessaries, 
 and, to procure which, they willingly became the sacrifice of others' 
 vices and their own folly. The fewer wants, the fewer desires a 
 man has, the less are his fears and vexations, the fewer his cares. 
 The freest man is he who is least dependent on custom and con- 
 venience, and, consequently, the least affected by circumstances. 
 The essay concluded with these words : ' Cleave to the essential 
 alone, and leave to fools the melancholy pleasure of appearance.' 
 Even as a schoolboy, I had attempted to accommodate myself to this 
 system. I did my duty in all things, and declined all praise from 
 my masters. I often slept at night upon chairs beside my bed, 
 instead of in it. I drank neither beer nor wine, tea nor coffee, but, 
 simply, water. I never spent a fifth part of my pocket money on 
 the trifles on which children are accustomed to waste their allowance, 
 and was, therefore, often able to assist those of my school-fellows, 
 'who were poorer than myself, with real necessities, books, maps, 
 and the like. I was delighted to leave the university, when, becom 
 ing entirely my own master, I could pursue, unmolested, the plan 1 
 had marked out for myself. The simplicity of my mode of living 
 induced most of my acquaintances to esteem me poor. I was far 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 53 
 
 richer than the greater part of them with double my income, for I 
 wanted nothing, and owed nothing ; many of those who pitied or 
 blamed me set no limits to their wishes, and were deeply in debt. 
 
 " My views of life, however, gave prodigious offence in my native 
 city ; but I could not see why I should fare sumptuously, or lie 
 softly, to please others, when I could please myself at far less cost. 
 My dress was neat, and not out of the fashion, but I did not partic- 
 ularly distinguish myself by the fineness of my linen, or employ the 
 most fashionable tailor, and, therefore, I was held unpresentable in 
 good society. I did my duty in my vocation ; but I never went 
 to * pay my respects ' to my superiors, and my manners were pro- 
 nounced excessively unpolished. I wished to be valued in society 
 for my talents, natural or acquired, and my moral worth ; the 
 well-judging public insisted upon fine clothes, flattery, and what it is 
 pleased to call respect for appearances. I did not smoke ; I did 
 not play at cards ; and frequented places of public amusement but 
 little ; that was called an ' affectation of singularity.' My dis- 
 favor with society grieved me but little, however ; I lived and acted 
 according to my own convictions, was content with moderate means, 
 had the power of helping many with my superfluity, was always 
 cheerful, and never sick. All that was wanting to my happiness 
 was the means of becoming more extensively useful. I could do 
 without the suffrage of the world. Woe to him whose felicity 
 depends on others, if he cannot find it in serving them without 
 expecting their applause ' " 
 
 THE VILLAGE SCHOOLMASTER. 
 
 " I SPENT the better part of a year in rambling about this blessed 
 Germany of ours without finding anywhere a suitable sphere of 
 action. Every application for fitting employment was met with a 
 ' but.' It is silly enough of the people, thought I, that will have 
 nothing to do with a man who asks no more than the means of mak- 
 ing himself useful to the best of his ability ! I had before pro- 
 jected a journey to London, to offer my services to explore the inte- 
 rior of Africa for the benefit of the world and of science ; and, if 
 they were not then accepted, to visit that part of the world on my 
 own account. No sooner thought than done ; I turned my face to 
 the north-west. 
 
 " One evening, I entered the inn of a little town in my way, much 
 
54 THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 fatigued. While my supper was preparing, I took up a provincial 
 'Intelligencer,' in which I saw an advertisement for a village 
 schoolmaster ; the salary was fifty guilders, with a house, firing, and 
 the use of three acres of land. It struck me directly that this was 
 the very thing for me. A village schoolmaster ! The calling, gen- 
 erally esteemed so humble, is, in fact, one of the very highest impor- 
 tance. I might become the reformer of a whole village, the saviour 
 of a thousand unhappy and neglected human beings. To how many 
 important politico-economical, moral, religious, and patriotic points 
 of view might I not pave the way for improvement ? Poor as 
 the remuneration was, it was sufficient for me. Heal service, in 
 fact, can never be paid for. How can virtues of any kind be 
 rewarded by the State ? State remuneration can only be meas- 
 ured by the greater or less expenditure of knowledge and activ- 
 ity required. For a village schoolmastership it is held that very 
 little knowledge or labor is wanting ; it is a low kind of thing alto- 
 gether ; hence the pecuniary recompense is paltry. But, for a mas- 
 ter of the ceremonies, or a court chamberlain, indeed, most uncommon 
 talents and virtues are demanded ; and that is, no doubt, the reason 
 why more is paid for such articles than for village schoolmasters 
 throughout the kingdom. 
 
 " I went and offered myself as a candidate for the vacant office. 
 The testimonials of ability I brought with me were examined, and I 
 found I had the honor to be taken for a runaway student ; that 
 did not concern me very greatly. Against my capabilities in read- 
 ing, writing, arithmetic, and singing, there was nothing to be said, 
 and yet the authorities hesitated. Nor was I greatly surprised 
 that they did ; for it is not very usual for a man, who, upon occa- 
 sion, could read and speak his six languages, to become a village 
 schoolmaster. I doubt if, after all, I should have obtained the 
 place, had there been any other candidates but myself and a deaf 
 tailor. 
 
 " My sound ears had the preference. 
 
 " ' Hark you, friend,' said the Examiner and President of the 
 High Provincial School Commission ; ' you shall have the place, 
 but, understand, provisionally, for one year, in the course of which 
 we shall see if your moral conduct is approved of.' 
 
 " My letter of provincial installation was duly delivered to me, and 
 with it a letter to the most reverend Pastor Pflock, in Hard, who 
 was to induct me into my office. 
 
 " I was as happy as a king assuming that kings are in general 
 happier than village schoolmasters. My dwelling in Hard was a 
 ruinous barrack, as dirty as an uncleansed stable ; every window 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 55 
 
 patched with paper, and my sitting-room a gloomy den without a 
 stove. The only stove in the place was in the school-room, which 
 was to be tenanted every day by me and sixty-five children of both 
 sexes. The garden was impassable from rubbish ; the three acres 
 of land offered a complete Flora Hardinensis ; not a wild flower or 
 weed growing in the whole country round but had its specimen there. 
 Heavens ! here was room and verge enough for the spirit of reform 
 to revel in. 
 
 ' The most reverend Pastor Pflock received me with severe dig- 
 nity ; gave me abundance of advice ; and presented me, the fol- 
 lowing Sunday, after service, to his congregation, with much 
 solemnity, and many sharp warnings to my juvenile troop. 
 
 " Pastor Pflock was esteemed a most zealous and orthodox man, 
 who thundered every Sunday against infidels and dissenters -with 
 the voice of a stentor ; painted the terrors of hell every fortnight, 
 and the joys of heaven once a month ; and, once a quarter, we had 
 a vision of the last judgment. But, on the week days, and in com- 
 mon life, he was a common kind of man enough, who was content to 
 let the world wag as it listed, and troubled his head very little 
 about the sayings or doings of his peasants, provided the due offer- 
 ings were made to his kitchen, and he was not forgotten at wed- 
 ding feasts and christenings. His flock was ignorant, brutal, poor, 
 and lazy ; almost every one was in debt ; their agriculture was 
 wretched, their method of rearing cattle was as bad as possible, and 
 their favorite amusements squabbling, fighting, and going to law. 
 The only thriving person in the village was the Schulze, who also 
 kept the public house, and was a diligent fomenter of the quarrel- 
 some and litigious propensities of his neighbors, by which he was 
 a gainer both ways. The exterior of the village, the rows of mis- 
 erable cottages, full of dirt and disorder, the coarse, lumpish 
 demeanor of the peasants and their wives, the rude audacity of 
 the children, their ragged and dirty clothing, all convinced me that 
 here was my appointed sphere of usefulness here was I called 
 to labor in my vocation in promoting the happiness of my fellow- 
 men. I danced for joy round the schoolroom like a fool, till the 
 house shook again ! 
 
 " The poverty of the school fund obliged me to make the necessary 
 repairs at my own expense, if I would have it done at all. I had 
 the windows mended, and the walls whitewashed, and the floors, 
 tables, benches, and doors, thoroughly scoured ; dug up my garden, 
 and planted it with vegetables, and set my three acres in order 
 with my own hands. I kept a goat in the stable for the milk ; and 
 I had common right of pasture with the rest of the village. I was 
 
56 THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 soon at home in my new abode. The reverend pastor himself was 
 not cleaner or more comfortably lodged. The villagers stared, and 
 seemed as much surprised at my orderly poverty as I was at their 
 nasty abundance." 
 
 BEGINNING OF THE REFORMATION. 
 
 "As soon as I had arranged my dwelling to my liking, I began 
 my operations on the rising generation. They drove every day in 
 and out of the schoolhouse like a herd of swine. I began by accus- 
 toming every child to salute me on entering by giving me his hand ; 
 and those who came with them dirty were dispatched forthwith to 
 remedy the evil at the spring behind the house. Hands and feet I 
 required to be clean as the face. Yery few seemed to have any 
 acquaintance with the comb. I desired they should all be combed 
 smooth before they came, and the little savages laughed in my face. 
 The laughing I soon settled with the cane. I entreated the assist- 
 ance of the pastor, and begged him to preach to his flock on the uses 
 of cleanliness. His reverence opened his eyes wider than usual 
 ' What has that to do with religion, schoolmaster ? Be so good as 
 to mind your own business.' However, with the assistance of the 
 stick, I accomplished the combing also. The clothing now came 
 under consideration. Here, nothing was to be done by force. My 
 pupils were all ragged that I could not help, but I insisted that 
 the rags should be clean. I gave little prizes to those who came to 
 school clean for a week together needles, knitting needles, scissors, 
 knives, and other trifles, which I bought by the dozen at the neigh- 
 boring fairs. The whole village, including the parson and the 
 Schulze, sneered at my innovations : but I pursued my own plan 
 obstinately. 
 
 " Human beings must be unbrutified before they can be educated. 
 With the help of these small rewards, I produced a very considera- 
 ble improvement in the course of a year among the youth of the vil- 
 lage ; and here and there a few of the elders began to feel some 
 shame when the children themselves began to notice their dirty 
 habits. As I passed through the village or fields,' the little ones 
 would leave their play, and come to greet me with a smile, and 
 offer their hands. They all liked me ; they were afraid of my cane, 
 pleased with my presents, and delighted to listen to the stories which 
 t sometimes related to them. 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 57 
 
 " My liberalities made a wonderful talk in the village. In the first 
 year I had really spent more than I received. Two of the poorest, 
 half naked children, I had clothed anew at my own cost, and these 
 proceedings puzzled the good people extremely. A village school- 
 master was generally the poorest where all were poor ; no man who 
 possessed any property of his own, however small, would take such 
 an office. Instead, like my predecessors, of accepting presents, or 
 rather alms, from the parents of the scholars, I gave away more than 
 any one else. No one knew what to make of me. Some were of 
 opinion that I was a fugitive from justice, a cash-keeper who had 
 run away with his master's money, or something of that sort. It 
 was a matter of course, that people, who rarely did or thought any 
 good themselves, should thinkno better of me. The pastor, how- 
 ever, gave a good character of me to the provincial school commis- 
 sion, though not without adding some strictures on the system of 
 giving rewards to scholars. But, as giving is not so positively for- 
 bidden by the law as taking, I was confirmed in my office of school- 
 master for life." 
 
 PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION. 
 
 " As soon as I was assured of my dignity, I lightened my task by 
 dividing the school into classes, and making the elder pupils assist 
 in teaching the younger, and by this method brought them all for- 
 ward more quickly. For the poorest girls, I bought wool and knit- 
 ting-needles, taught them to make use of them, and gave them what 
 they made for their own property. This piqued the parents who 
 were in better circumstances - their daughters should be no worse 
 off than their companions ; the knitting became general, and in time 
 was followed by sewing. A poor woman in the village, with whcan 
 I divided my salary, undertook the instruction of the girls in needle- 
 work. In the space of a year, not only the dirty, but the torn 
 gowns and jackets had nearly vanished from my schoolroom. In 
 some few, indeed, the love of dirt and disorder seemed irradicable ; 
 like other diseases, it ran in the blood, and descended from genera- 
 tion to generation. 
 
 " While the girls were making these advances in civilization, their 
 male associates were not behindhand. Reading, writing, and arith- 
 metic, were diligently pursued, and the diligence was rewarded by 
 the relation of stories of various kinds. It is incredible with what 
 
'58 THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 eagerness they would throng round me, when, on a holiday or Sun- 
 day afternoon, I took my seat in the fields, or woods, for this pur- 
 pose. Every other amusement was readily forsaken for this ; and 
 many, even, of the grown-up lads, who had ceased to attend the 
 school, never failed to join their younger companions on these occa- 
 sions. Sometimes . I gave them a lesson in natural philosophy, or 
 history, in geography, or a moral lecture ; but always in the form 
 of a story. The young people thought they were only amused, 
 while I was gradually undermining their prejudices, awaking their 
 moral sense, and enlarging their views of the world. 
 
 " I had not less satisfaction in the singing lessons which it was my 
 duty, as schoolmaster, to give. I had some excellent voices among 
 my scholars, and the vicar choral of a neighboring town assisted me 
 with notes and exercises. My young flock got on exceedingly well ; 
 but to amend the church singing, where the elders were concerned, 
 was more than I could accomplish. The whole strength of thefr 
 lungs was brought into play upon all occasions ; they seemed to 
 make a conscience of never sparing them. I presumed to direct the 
 attention of Pastor Pflock to this subject, and asked him to use his 
 influence with his worthy congregation that they should not bellow 
 so unmercifully. 
 
 " ' Eh ! what do you mean by that ? ' said the pastor. ' I let 
 every one give free course to his devotional feelings ; let them cry 
 aloud, and spare not. Lukewarm singing, lukewarm Christianity, 
 in my opinion.' 
 
 " Apparently he had communicated my ridiculous, my unchristian 
 censure, as he called it, to his whole flock ; for I soon remarked 
 that they roared more pitilessly than ever, and came out of church 
 red-hot with their exertions, and as hoarse as ravens. 
 
 " I found I must be on my guard with these good people, with 
 whom I was very evidently anything but popular ; and, with my 
 singing, sewing, washing, combing, and story-telling, passed for an 
 innovating, mischievous busy-body. For this judgment, I was not 
 a little indebted to the pastor, to whom I was not sufficiently sub- 
 missive ; and to the Schulze still more largely, because I never spent 
 anything in his house, and purloined, as he considered it, some of 
 his customers with my Sunday story-telling. 
 
 " I might have experienced more active efforts of the ill-will of this 
 last dignitary and his partisans, had I not been, in some measure, 
 defended from them by the warm attachment of the children, who 
 never failed to give me warning in time of any conspiracy against 
 me. But what contributed more than all to keep me scathless from 
 their malice, was a kind of superstitious belief in my powers of 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 59 
 
 mischief a belief which, being first induced by the old women 
 of the village, had found ready admittance with all. 
 
 " They took me, in short, for a conjurer, or something of the kirid. 
 To this wise conjecture, my extraordinary liberality, taken in con- 
 junction with the scantiness of my apparent means, might have 
 partly contributed, and partly that I had found out and frustrated 
 more than one or two spiteful tricks intended to be played on me. 
 It happened several times that I received a private visit from one 
 or the other individual whose cow gave bad milk, or who had lost 
 anything in house or field, to request that I would cut the cards, 
 or make a spell of some kind, to discover the criminal. It was in 
 vain that I tried to reason them out of this preposterous folly, 
 and refused the offered money. They remained firm in their faith, 
 that 'I knew more than I should.' Even my poor three acres 
 brought me under suspicion, because, from being the worst, they 
 were now the best and most productive in the parish. Although 
 every one with their own eyes saw, or might see, that the elder 
 lads helped me in the cultivation of the land, and the younger ones 
 took it by turns to weed for me ; although I offered them the plain- 
 est and simplest rules to obtain a like result with my own, they 
 preferred their own solution of the enigma, ' I knew more than I 
 should,' ' the devil had a hand in it,' &c. 
 
 " I saw that the elder part of the population were not to be con- 
 verted. My best hopes rested on their children, who were in a 
 great measure under my influence. I had done much in the course 
 of five years, when a scandalous attempt, on the part of the pastor, 
 threatened the destruction of my plans of reformation. One day 
 the pastor sent for me, received me with extraordinary and unusual 
 civility ; and, while I was endeavoring to find out his motive for 
 such an unexpected manifestation, he surprised me by a proposal 
 to bestow on me in marriage a young person who lived in his house 
 in some dependent capacity. He promised a good portion with her. 
 I had no inclination to listen to or repeat village scandal, but I could 
 not be ignorant that the girl's conduct was not irreproachable, and 
 Pastor Pflock knew it full well. Of course, I gave a direct and 
 immediate refusal ; perhaps I was somewhat too abrupt. From 
 that time forward he never preached a sermon without launching 
 forth into invectives against all profligate innovators and ' infidels.' 
 If I had had any doubt as to whom these thunders were directed, 
 his looks would have speedily enlightened me and everybody else ; 
 but I despised them too heartily to take any notice of them. By 
 and by, I received notice that complaints had been lodged against 
 me with the School Commission. I was charged with immoral 
 
60 THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 conduct ; I was unfit to be trusted with the instruction of chil- 
 dren. I demanded a hearing ; I demanded the names of my accus- 
 ers, which could not well be refused me ; and I never rested till 
 the accusation and its cause had been traced home to Pastor 
 Pflock. The motives for his extraordinary proposal were clear 
 enough, and I succeeded in making them appear so to the Com- 
 mission. From bullying, the unworthy pastor descended to suppli- 
 cation, that the business might not become generally known. It 
 transpired, nevertheless ; before many days were over, everything 
 that had passed in the justice-room was known to every man, 
 woman, and child in Hard. In another quarter of a year Pastor 
 Pflock was removed, and another, Pastor Bode, replaced him. 
 
 " The latter, a pious and excellent man somewhat advanced in life, 
 and well acquainted with the world, without being corrupted by 
 time, supported me warmly in every attempt for the improvement 
 of the people, and labored zealously in his own calling for the object. 
 He went from cottage to cottage to give advice, warning, help, and 
 consolation. I grieve to say, he reaped but a scanty harvest with 
 all his toil. His preaching was not half so much attended or 
 admired as Pflock's had been ; the customary offerings to the par- 
 sonage kitchen much scantier. The good people qf Hard main- 
 tained stoutly that Pastor Bode * did not preach the right sort of 
 religion ; he was half an infidel, he did not believe in hell,' &c. &c. 
 And then they shook their heads, and sighed for the high-seasoned 
 homilies of Pastor Pflock, and the discourse usually ended with 
 the ejaculation, 'Ah, he was the man; his was something like ser- 
 mons ! Hard will not see his like again in a hurry ! ' ' 
 
 THE COLONY. 
 
 " ABOUT this time a certain Baron Von Losecke paid a visit to 
 Hard, on account of some forest land which he inherited in the 
 neighborhood, and which he wanted to dispose of again, as he did 
 not mean to live in this part of the country. The government had 
 declined the purchase, because wood was not at all wanted here, and 
 there was no navigable river to aid in its disposal elsewhere. The 
 Baron next offered it to the parish of Hard, as the forest lay so 
 conveniently at hand. But the parish was poor and in debt ; it was 
 not in any particular want of wood ; and, if it were, TMreferred greatly 
 stealing it from the Baron's forest to buying of him> The offer was 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAlfa. 61 
 
 refused, although he would have lowered his first demand of nine to 
 seven thousand guilders. The Baron was quite at a loss what to 
 do with his new acquisition, and went to ask advice of Pastor 
 Bode, who referred him to me as the person in Hard most likely 
 to give him proper counsel. He came, and the thought suddenly 
 occurred to me to buy the wood myself. My plan was ready in 
 a few moments. I could not be a loser. The Baron swore at 
 the whole business ; he wanted, above all things, to be rid of the 
 trouble, and at last declared that if I could find him a purchaser, 
 he should have the wood for six thousand. I told him, at once, 
 that I would buy it myself if he would accept the half in ready 
 money, and allow me reasonable time to pay the other half, with 
 a moderate rate of interest. He stared, first at me, and then at 
 my naked school-room ; but people soon come to an understanding 
 when both parties mean to do so. The bargain was soon struck, 
 and the necessary instruments drawn up. I drew my outstanding 
 capital of four thousand guilders from my native city, paid out of 
 my pocket a yearly sum equivalent to the interest of it, which, if 
 you remember, I had destined for the support of my guardian's 
 daughter, and the Baron received the promised moiety immedi- 
 ately. 
 
 " The whole village was up in arms at the news of my purchase. 
 No doubt I was supposed to have found the philosopher's stone. I 
 was laughed at for my folly, nevertheless, and many rejoiced before- 
 hand in the expectation that I had certainly overreached myself in 
 my bargain. 
 
 " The laughter did not very greatly disturb my equanimity. I 
 hired wood-cutters, and a few experienced makers of potash, bought 
 ,tubs and caldrons, built furnaces for the calcining, and trans- 
 formed the fine beech wood into potash. My projects extended 
 themselves. One of my best friends in the village was a young 
 man named Lebrecht, an active, intelligent fellow, who had often 
 assisted me in the school. I now made it over to him entirely with 
 the income such as it was, and procured a ratification of the appoint- 
 ment from the commission. The only share I retained was the 
 story-telling lesson, as it might be called. The school-house I gave 
 up entirely to my successor, and built a temporary abode in the for- 
 est, to be near my workmen. I had cottages built for them also, 
 which could be tenanted in the winter; and thus commenced a 
 new mode of life, pretty much like that of a settler in the back 
 woods of America. The Harders shook their heads at my foolish 
 undertaking, while one acre after another was changed into pot- 
 ash. In a year jjpme hundreds of acres were cleared. My potash 
 
62 THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 found a rapid sale, and thus the old, impenetrable beech forest, 
 snugly packed in barrels, wandered to all parts of the world. The 
 half of. the produce was more than sufficient to pay the remainder 
 of the purchase money ; the Baron was paid sooner than I expected, 
 and I had beside some capital in hand, and the land. I now set 
 to work upon a more substantial dwelling for myself, with barns 
 and outhouses, I bought cattle, laid out the land in pasture and 
 arable land, and so turned farmer, as well as potash-maker. In 
 draining some part of the meadows, I discovered a spring. In 
 testing its fitness for domestic purposes, I found it to be mineral. 
 There is no other in all the country round. A new plan was quickly 
 formed. I built this house for the reception of visitors, and adver- 
 tised the healing properties of the spring in all the newspapers. 
 It succeeded beyond all my expectations; the visitors were so 
 numerous, that, in a few years, I was obliged to add wings to the 
 bathing-house. My capital yielded me a high interest. I por- 
 tioned off more than three hundred acres into small farms, and 
 built houses upon them, for which I had lime, sand, and wood gratis, 
 and every house had its tenant ready as soon as it was finished. I 
 chose, in preference to all others, skilful artisans, who were either 
 wanted by the water-drinking guests, or were not easily found in 
 the neighborhood. I took care that the leases should be sufficiently 
 advantageous, to the tenant, to give him a real interest in the suc- 
 cess of my colony. I was law-giver, as well as landlord, and my 
 indulgence on some points, and inexorable severity on others, where 
 the integrity of my colonists was concerned, were so well known, 
 that my regulations were submitted to without hesitation. Look 
 behind you, dear Eoden, at those buildings, fourteen .in number, 
 which stand on the rising ground by the side of the forest. That 
 is my colony." 
 
 THE NEW DIGNITY. 
 
 ' AMONG the yearly visitors to the waters, some of the authorities 
 of the land were occasionally to be found, to whom I became known. 
 Had I been dressed like one of themselves, my acquirements would 
 certainly have raised no astonishment, but in one clothed in the 
 coarse garments of a peasant, they were esteemed something won- 
 derful. I passed, moreover, for an opulent man, and these two cir- 
 cumstances procured my appointment as Schulze in Hard, on the 
 
THE TWO MILLIO: 
 
 NAIRES. 63 
 
 death of the old one, in spite of all the ancient inhabitants could 
 say against it. My new dignity gave me as much joy, as, under 
 other relations, tl^p post of Prime Minister could have done. I 
 was now in the position I had long desired, and my sphere of 
 action exactly what I wished it to be. I was no stranger to the 
 ingratitude of the Harders, but what else was to be expected from 
 a people so poverty-stricken, ignorant, lazy, and stupid ? I must 
 humanize them before I could look for humaner and nobler feelings 
 from them. 
 
 " I immediately began to work out my projects. Pastor Bode and 
 the schoolmaster Lobrecht were zealous cooperators. Even as 
 Schulze, I continued my narrative lessons to the youth of the vil- 
 lage. It was too powerful an engine in my scheme of moral refor- 
 mation to be neglected. Eight years' experience had rendered me 
 familiar with the chief sources of mischief in Hard, and I hastened 
 to destroy them. One of the greatest was the litigious spirit of the 
 people. They went to law about everything. I took upon myself 
 to be an attorney, in defiance of the attorneys, and examined those 
 local regulations, which most nearly concerned my peasants, and 
 were most fertile in stuff for lawsuits. A good many I put an 
 end to by amicable arrangement, and the number of my clients 
 increased daily. My office enabled me continually to detect and 
 frustrate the artifices by which provincial advocates often fermented 
 and kept alive the foolish squabbles of the poor ignorant people for 
 their own advantage. This alone was an immeasurable advantage 
 for the village. In the midst of all these official labors, something 
 occurred to me of which I had certainly often thought, but never 
 before felt something which turned my head for a time, and put 
 an effectual stop to my reformation. 
 
 " One day I drove a wagon myself with a freight of potash to 
 Berg, a market town about twelve miles from Hard, and where my 
 agent for the sale of it lived. In the wagon I had also a sack of 
 beans, which fell from it as I drove into Berg. A lad, who was 
 passing, directed my attention to my loss. I ran back, and hoisted 
 the sack on my shoulders to replace it in the wagon. At that 
 moment a very pretty girl, whose dress announced her an inhabi- 
 tant of Berg, came up with me. I do not know how I looked at 
 her or she looked at me, but I felt the strangest sensation I had 
 ever experienced in my life. While I was staring like a booby, I 
 lost my hat, and, encumbered as I was, I could not stoop to recover 
 it. The beauty saw my embarrassment, and, turning back with the 
 best-hearted smile in the world, picked up the hat and gave it to 
 me. To this day I do not know how I thanked her, or whether I 
 
64 Ttffc TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 thanked her at all. The smile bewitched me so that I could think 
 of nothing else, and am only surprised how I found my way to my 
 agent's. f 
 
 " In the house of the agent a room was always reserved for me, 
 because, in my frequent journeys to and fro, I found it sometimes 
 convenient to remain the night in Berg. I might as well have gone 
 back this time, but I did not. I staid in the hope of seeing my 
 little beauty again, and never left the window commanding a view 
 of the main street till I was called to dinner. 
 
 " As I entered the room where the dinner was served, who should 
 I see but the very object of my thoughts standing by the table ? She 
 was evidently preparing to dine with us. The post of honor at 
 the upper end was assigned to me, and the fair stranger placed 
 herself opposite to me. Frau Diedrich, the agent's wife, said some- 
 - thing to me, to which I replied, ' Good, they are exquisite.' 
 
 " ' Good heavens ! how sorry I am you did not come last week,' 
 exclaimed the good lady, 'we had some much better.' 
 
 11 ' Much better ! ' said I, bewitched. Frau Diedrich was talking 
 about the carp, and I of the black eyes of the maiden. The fair 
 girl smiled, and looked down. 
 
 " ' Lieber Himmel Herr Schulze, I don't think you heard a word 
 I said ! ' said my hostess. 
 
 " * Let the matter alone, wife,' said the agent, rising to fetch his 
 pipe. ' Herr Schulze is a learned man : he was star-gazing.' 
 
 " ' Who is your new companion? ' I seized the first moment of 
 asking, when the beautiful stranger had withdrawn. 
 
 " ' She is no companion of mine,' replied Frau Diedrich; ' she 
 is a poor girl, whom my sister, the Pastorin Muller, has brought up. 
 My brother-in-law is lately dead, and my sister, being obliged to 
 leave the vicarage, has sent her to me till she is settled again. ' x 
 
 ' ' ' Poor, is she ? So much the better for me, ' thought I. ' Then 
 I may hope. I am not poor. I am not more than three-and-thirty, 
 and not so bad-looking.' But then I looked again at the delicate 
 town-bred girl, and then at myself a potash-maker in my peas- 
 ant's blouse ! My courage sank a hundred fathoms deep. 
 
 " Passing by the kitchen, I saw my beauty, with an apron before 
 her, busy over the fire, and the thermometer rose a little. She 
 looked as if performing an accustomed duty. In the evening, as I 
 was sitting alone in my room, I heard something knocking like a 
 knife on a chopping-board. I listened again, and recognized the 
 sound of a detestable old harpsichord, with about as much tone as 
 a tin-kettle, and horribly out of tune into the bargain. Thinking it 
 was one of Diedrich's boys amusing himself, I opened the door be- 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 65 
 
 tweep, and entered abruptly. Lo ! and behold ! there sat the fair 
 maiden, again alone ! and the room was evidently the one appropri- 
 ated to her use for the time. She started, and colored at my uncere- 
 monious entry, and so did I. I seemed destined to appear before 
 her in some awkward guise or other. Now the mischief was done, 
 I could only make the best excuse I could think of, and beg permis- 
 sion to try my skill at tuning the old harpsichord. She consented : 
 I brought it into something like order, and was rewarded by hearing 
 her play, which she did witji great taste and feeling. The tin 
 kettle sounded like the music of the spheres. She expressed some 
 surprise to find me so musical, and afterwards, that I could, unlike 
 most country people, speak of anything else than country matters. 
 
 " ' Are the country people all so learned with you, Mr. Schulze ? ' 
 asked she, with her gentle smile. 
 
 " I do not know what I answered. The smile and the glance of 
 her black eyes took away my breath and my senses for the time. 
 The poor child seemed to have but little to amuse her in Diedrich's 
 house, for on my asking her to walk out with me, she was ready in 
 a moment. The walk did her good : her features lost a certain 
 tinge of melancholy which I had admired as the greatest of charms 
 till I saw the same features lighted up with smiles, and then I 
 found gladness best became them. At supper, she sat opposite to 
 me again ; and, after supper, we went to the old harpsichord again. 
 This was too much. I never closed my eyes that night. The morning 
 star found me as wakeful as the evening had left me. Lovers reckon 
 by the stars, because they hover in spirit above the earth while 
 they are lovers. I fancied I must be ill, and so I told Diedrich, 
 and made that the excuse for remaining the whole day at Berg. 
 My dear little neighbor had abundance of compassion for me, and 
 did her best to amuse me. While she sung to me, or talked or 
 walked with me, the headache I complained of left me, but my 
 heart, ah, friend Roder! When I returned to Hard, on the 
 third day, I was absolutely miserable. I thought I was going to 
 die, and I believe I made some verses to the moon ! 
 
 " My official duties began to be terribly importunate, and, I am 
 afraid, were very indifferently performed the week after my visit to 
 Berg. On the other hand I was seized with a sudden zeal for beau- 
 tifying my house, and had many things done which had hitherto 
 appeared to me extremely superfluous. I even bought an excellent 
 piano which I had found on sale in a neighboring town. This was 
 hardly to be called a superfluity, but I had not felt inclined to cul- 
 tivate my musical talents the whole eight or nine years I had spent 
 in Hard with half the zeal as since my visit to Berg. The next 
 5 
 
66 THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 time I drove over, I bestowed a little more attention on my dress, 
 and when I caught sight of the church tower of Berg behind the 
 pine wood, I could almost hear my heart beat. Diedrich and his 
 wife received me with their wonted cordiality, and their sweet friend 
 returned my awkward greeting with a smile and a blush that looked 
 almost like pleasure at seeing me again. 
 
 " The harpsichord wanted tuning again, and, while I was doing it, 
 I mentioned my purchase of a new piano, and expressed a hope 
 that I should hear her play on it some day, and that was all I said. 
 We went out to walk, and among the thousand things we talked 
 about, the thing I wished most to say was exactly what I did not 
 and could not say. 
 
 " 'Shall you be here again next week?' asked she, when she 
 gave her hand at parting. We were alone, and yet, like an idiot, 
 as I was, I could find no answer, but, 'On Thursday certainly,' 
 as if I had been talking only to Frau Diedrich. 
 
 " All the way home I had employment enough in quarrelling with 
 myself, and vowing in my heart to acquit myself the ensuing week 
 somewhat less like a simpleton. 
 
 "My home was no longer as it had been to me. I wandered 
 through my colony. I looked on my own creation, on the testi- 
 mony of a resolute purpose resolutely pursued. I saw it was right, 
 but it did not rejoice me ; I could not look on my work and say 
 ' that it was good.' Beyond the right and useful, something was 
 wanting, something higher, and that lay beyond my power. My 
 work wanted consecration ; as yet, in my little world, the ' beau- 
 tiful ' was not ! And the beautiful is everywhere the reflected 
 light of Love; when hallowing the earthly, it reveals itself to 
 earth. 
 
 " This week that passed before I went to Berg again, was certainly 
 longer than the whole eight years I had spent in Hard. This time 
 I found courage to say that the time had appeared immeasurably 
 long since I had seen her, and she answered innocently, 'I am 
 very glad when you come : I am so lost here. It is a pleasure to 
 meet any one with whom we can sympathize.' And hereupon we 
 were both silent, perhaps, because I took her hand and drew it 
 within my arm, at these words, a freedom I had never ventured 
 on before. I did, however, find courage enough, after a while, to 
 say, that ' I should have thought it more likely that she would find 
 here and everywhere hearts only too ready to sympathize with 
 hers ;' to which she answered nothing, and I was as well satisfied 
 that she did not. 
 
 "When we returned to the house, I invited Diedrich and his wife 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 67 
 
 to come over to Hard and look at my new buildings. ' That we 
 will, gladly/ answered he. 'I want to give Miss Augusta a 
 day's pleasure before she goes back next week;' and here he 
 handed her a letter from his sister-in-law, her protectress. 
 
 " ' And are you really going to leave us? ' I asked her as she 
 sat at the old harpsichord in the evening. 
 
 " Her hands dropped into her lap. ' I must, my foster-mother 
 has sent for me.' 
 
 " I thought I saw a tear sparkle through her long eyelashes, and 
 ventured to press her hand to my lips when we parted for the 
 night. 
 
 " On my return to Hard, Diedrich and his whole family accom- 
 panied me. And when I was once more at home, and saw that 
 home lighted by her bright presence, sunshine and joy were in me 
 and around me ! My work was hallowed by the breath of love. 
 The good was wedded to the beautiful. 
 
 " Man's heart and hands can accomplish great things in the stir and 
 tumult of the world. Woman is powerless in its troubled strife, 
 yet nobler in her weakness, because more alien to the mere earthly 
 than man. She sanctifies him through her love, awakens in him 
 the sense of the beautiful, and she alone has received from Heaven 
 the gift of crowning his brow with the wreath of victory. For men 
 can never reward men for the struggle and the conquest. All that 
 men can accomplish alone may be great, but it is loveless ; just in 
 its purpose, but austere in aspect. Man's only exclusive work is 
 red-handed war. "Woe to that world where love is not ! " 
 
 THE HIGHEST FESTIVAL. 
 
 " I LODGED my guests in the Baths, with a private hint to the land- 
 lord and his wife to amuse and occupy Diedrich and his wife as 
 much as possible, that I might keep Augusta exclusively to myself. 
 Frau Diedrich was scandalized at the humility of my household 
 arrangements, and could not understand why I did not 'live 
 better,' as she phrased it. 'I might easily do so,' I answered, 
 looking at the only person to whom I was desirous of recommending 
 my humble dwelling, 'but it is not necessary to my happiness. 
 I will do without unnecessary necessaries, that I may have where- 
 with to supply real ones.' 
 
 " Diedrich shook his head, and merely replied, ' Herr Schwlze, 
 
68 THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 you are a humorist.' But the beloved one looked on me with 
 sparkling eye and kindling cheek. ' Where such spotless neat- 
 ness reigns, who would seek or desire other adornment ? ' cried 
 she. ' When health and contentment are the companions, who 
 asks whether they sit at a table of beechen wood or mahogany ? 
 if they are served on earthenware, or from porcelain and silver?' 
 
 " I pressed the hand of my sweet advocate in silent gratitude, and 
 led her through every part of my domain ; she had understanding 
 and sympathy for all, and while her eyes wandered over the wide- 
 spreading prospect, rich in fruit and promise, her heart seemed to 
 swell within her, her eyes filled with tears. 'This is heavenly,' 
 she murmured. 
 
 " ' And will you forsake it, then? ' said I. 'Will it be heav- 
 enly to me when you are gone ? ' She was silent, as if she did 
 not understand me. ' Oh, remain ! W T here else would you be 
 loved and cherished as you are loved and cherished here ? Be 
 mine! For me there is no happiness without you. You are an 
 orphan; if I may hope to win your heart, who shall refuse me 
 your hand ? ' 
 
 " 'It is true, I have neither father nor mother,' said Augusta, 
 and a shade of sadness crossed the clear heaven of her brow, like a 
 white cloud over the transparent depths of a summer sky. ' But 
 I have made a vow to myself, and I will keep it, never to dispose 
 of myself without the consent and approbation of a man whom I 
 love and honor beyond others in the world.' 
 
 1 ' ' And who may the one so honored be ? ' I asked, with a beat- 
 ing heart. 
 
 "'The noblest-minded being on earth,' she replied, warmly. 
 ' My father's death was sudden and most grievous. He had, 
 though from no fault of his own, ruined a young man who had been 
 his ward; and yet this young man was the only person in the 
 world who had compassion on his orphan child. He shared with 
 me the little my father's misfortunes had left him, provided me 
 with suitable protection, gave me an education, any good that 
 may be in me is his work. I owe him every breath I draw ; I 
 honor him as my second father. Where to find him I know not ; 
 for, like the Providence that blesses us unseen, he has never beeu 
 visible to my gratitude ; two letters I wrote him remain unanswered ; 
 yet my determination is unalterable, never to accept the hand of 
 any man without asking and obtaining his approbation.' 
 
 " ' And his name ? ' asked I, breathless with expectation. 
 
 " ' His name is Engelbert.' 
 
 " ' And yours is Augusta Lenz.' 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 69 
 
 " She looked at me with surprise. I took her hand and led her 
 back into the house, into my study, and took from the drawer of 
 my desk two letters, which I laid before her. 
 
 " ' Good heavens ! how did these letters fall into your hands, Mr. 
 Schulze ? ' exclaimed Augusta, as she recognized her own hand- 
 writing. 
 
 " 'I am Engelbert,' was all I could say. 
 
 *' In spite of all I could do to hinder her, Augusta sunk on her 
 knees before me, seized my hands, and covered them with tears 
 and kisses. 
 
 " ' Let me, let me,' she sobbed, resisting my efforts to raise her. 
 ' How I have longed for this moment, when I could pour out my 
 whole heart before my benefactor, my only friend !' 
 
 "But I need say no more, my friend; you will guess how I 
 answered, and how I sped in my wooing. From that moment 
 began the real happiness of my life, a happiness that has never 
 known pause or hindrance in its course, nor will, I hope and trust, 
 till the hearts of both are stilled in death. 
 
 " You may, perhaps, be surprised that we did not become sooner 
 known to each other, and yet the cause was very simple. My 
 agent, Diedrich, had never called me by any other name than my 
 official one, as the people hereabouts are wont to do, and Augusta, 
 who was a stranger to Hard and its relations, had taken it for 
 granted that ' Herr Schulze ' bore only his family name, and nc 
 very uncommon one either. 
 
 " Whatever Frau Diedrich could say against the irregularity of 
 such a proceeding, I empowered my good friend, Pastor Bode, tc 
 publish the banns forthwith. Augusta had given me a double right, 
 in admitting my authority as guardian to its full extent, to insist on 
 her leaving Hard no more. To the good woman who had charge 
 of my bride, she wrote, by my desire, ensuring to her the yearly 
 sum she had hitherto received as the price of Augusta's mainten- 
 ance, and which she was not in circumstances to spare without 
 inconvenience. Diedrich and his wife remained with Augusta my 
 guests at the Baths. As bride, I invested her with the full 
 authority of the future mistress, to order and arrange all within and 
 without the house, according to her own pleasure. What a week 
 we passed ! second only in felicity to those we have known since. 
 
 " On the day of our wedding, my kind and gentle Augusta made 
 her appearance, not in the extravagant and somewhat ridiculous 
 finery of a town bride, but in the simple and unpretending costume 
 suitable to the wife of a village Schulze, the guide and associate 
 of peasants, over whom she claimed no other superiority but the 
 
70 THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 undisputed and undisputable one of greater knowledge and 
 virtue. 
 
 "A fortnight after this, Pastor Bode joined our hands at the 
 altar." 
 
 A FORTUNATE MISFORTUNE. 
 
 " AUGUSTA'S diligence and skill in domestic arrangements spared 
 me many a care. Freed from all anxiety for my private affairs, 
 I could devote myself the more entirely to the weightier duties of 
 my office. 
 
 " I had been about two years married, when the terrible day came 
 which reduced all Hard to ashes. The conflagration had its origin 
 in some very usual but unpardonable piece of carelessness on the 
 part of one of the inhabitants. All help was useless. The good 
 people of Hard stood by stupefied and totally inactive, while others 
 from the neighboring villages were exerting themselves to the utmost 
 to save their cattle and farming stock. There were not half a dozen 
 houses left standing. 
 
 " The blow was a heavy one ; the people were too ignorant and 
 lazy to be otherwise than poor ; the aid afforded by government 
 scanty, when measured by the want. The sufferers looked at one 
 another in helpless consternation; the greatness of the calamity 
 had robbed them, not only of their property, but of their heads and 
 their hands, such as they were. I alone did not despair nay, 
 even saw ground for hope from the very extent of the misfortune. 
 All were now alike poor. They must work, if they meant to eat. 
 
 " As soon as it became a question of rebuilding the village, I 
 delivered a memorial to the government, in which I endeavored to 
 prove that a great advantage might accrue to the community of 
 Hard, if such exchanges were effected between the owners of the land 
 as to fix every man in the centre, or nearly so, of his own portion. By 
 this means, not only would the danger of a similar catastrophe be con- 
 siderably lessened, but, what was of yet more consequence, a fruitful 
 source of dispute and litigation would be cut off, by the comparative 
 isolation of the proprietors. My plan was approved of, and a com- 
 mission appointed to effect the necessary exchanges, at the head of 
 which I was placed, in spite of the murmurs and opposition of the 
 Harders. The business was arranged at last, but not without con- 
 siderable difficulty and every man's portion of land brought within a 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 71 
 
 ring-fence. The grand want at present was of timber for building. 
 There was none fit for the purpose to be procured but from a con- 
 siderable distance, and consequently at an enormous price ; and 
 many were the lamentations that Baron von Lesecke's forests had 
 not been purchased when he offered them ten years before. 
 
 " I now caused the remainder of my timber to be felled, and sold 
 at the most moderate price, without requiring immediate payment. 
 The greater part. I allowed to remain over for two years, without 
 interest. To many persons I advanced money. The government 
 did its part. For the poorest of all, liberal collections were made 
 among the guests at the Baths. 
 
 " In little more than a year the village rose from its ashes in 
 scattered dwellings, as you now see it. As a further security 
 against fire, I had public ovens built, apart from the dwelling- 
 houses ; better engines provided, and a well dug near every house. 
 I had the water from my own lands, and those of others situated on 
 the heights, conducted into one common channel, and directed 
 toward the waste common land. Here the great canal was divided 
 into a number of smaller canals, passing through the meadows, the 
 fertility of which was increased threefold, by artificial inundation. 
 The fields and gardens around soon showed signs of improvement. 
 Being immediately under the eye of the owner, they 'were more 
 carefully cultivated, and much valuable time spared, which had 
 formerly been wasted in running from one outlying field to 
 another. Poverty and necessity compelled the greater part to 
 economy, both of time and money. The public house in the village 
 was less visited. In my inn, I allowed neither wine nor spirits to 
 be sold. The widow of the former Schulze, who still kept the 
 house in the village, abused me unmercifully ; but I obtained my 
 object. Had she followed my advice, and arranged her house for 
 the reception of the water-drinkers and bathers, she might have been a 
 much richer woman, for this house is often so full that new guests 
 are continually obliged to leave the place for want of lodging. 
 
 " It is true that the greater part of the village is still in debt to 
 me, but their other debts are nearly acquitted, and this was the 
 consequence of real misfortune. Our village is the most flour- 
 ishing and industrious, and therefore the highest in credit, in the 
 whole country. We have no more lawsuits, and squabbling and 
 fighting are scarcely remembered among us. Many of my former 
 scholars of both sexes are now themselves parents, and, I may 
 honestly assert, are as warmly attached to me as ever. Order and 
 cleanliness greet the eye and gladden the heart on every side. 
 
 " It may have contributed in some measure to this happy change, 
 
72 THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 that I have remitted the interest of the sums owing to me to those 
 who distinguished themselves the year through in the neatness of 
 their houses and persons, the cultivation and good order of their 
 fields, and in keeping from quarrels and litigation. By way of 
 encouragement to the rest, I made a gift of the whole capital due to 
 me, to the three families who first worked themselves free from all 
 other debt." 
 
 Engelbert had proceeded thus far in his narration, when we were 
 interrupted by Augusta. She looked like a rose in its full pride 
 of beauty, with all its buds clustering round. The infant was on 
 her arm, the youngest boy clinging to her side, and the elder ones 
 frolicking about her. What a morning greeting was there ! I felt 
 a child again among those happy children of nature. 
 
 The bell for church came up through the valley. We went all 
 together, and I shall not easily forget the effect of the hymn of 
 praise sung in four parts by the numerous congregation. The 
 address of the silver-haired pastor was worthy of the rest earnest, 
 simple, touching intelligible to all practical for this life, yet 
 teaching to look beyond it. 
 
 When the service was over, the whole community assembled 
 under the lime trees. The Schulze spoke in a kind and friendly 
 manner to several who addressed him, and then, mounting a bench, 
 read some government proclamations, and explained and cleared up 
 some misunderstanding respecting them. When this business was 
 over, he pointed me out with his hand to the assembly and said 
 " I have here an old and dear friend on a visit to me ; and as I 
 wish to give him pleasure, and also to make known to him those 
 young people who have particularly distinguished themselves by 
 their conduct since our last meeting, I invite them all to a dance 
 and supper with me this evening." 
 
 And here the Schulze read a long list of names from a paper 
 which he held in his hand : hereupon a general whispering, hand- 
 shaking, and smiling took place, and the assembly separated with 
 joyous faces and sparkling eyes. The reverend pastor, the school- 
 * master, Librecb, an intelligent, well-informed young countryman, 
 possessed of considerable natural talent and an ardent thirst for 
 knowledge, and the doctor and his wife, joined us at dinner, which, 
 contrary to Engelbert's usual custom, was very handsome, and had 
 been prepared at the bathing-house. I never passed a happier 
 evening, and have rarely listened to a better concert. Seven-and- 
 forty voices, male and female, executed choruses and motells, from 
 Grann, Handel, Rolle, and Haydn, with a purity of style and pre- 
 cision of tone that would not have disgraced a concert in the capital 
 
THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 73 
 
 Engelbert, his wife, and two elder boys, were among the singers 
 The concert was given in the open air, behind the garden of the 
 bathing-house. The place seemed made for the purpose. A soft 
 echo from the distant rocks sent back the haryony in magic sweet- 
 ness ; the evening sun shone in full splendor on the fields, and 
 broke through the trees on the broad grassy glade where we stood, 
 chequering its deep emerald with broad gleams of gold, and hover- 
 ing like a glory round many a fair young head. I confess the 
 whole scene had something inexpressibly touching to me. 
 
 ! and all this is the work of one man ! thought I, gazing 
 around me. And this man, who, wherever he moved and looked, 
 beheld his own creation, and that it was good, stood there simple 
 and unassuming among the rest, a peasant among peasants. When 
 the concert was over, I clasped his hand with heartfelt emotion, and 
 exclaimed involuntarily, " Thou art one of the really great in the 
 rustic garb." 
 
 The evening closed with a dance in the large and handsome 
 saloon of the dwelling-house.* Augusta was my first partner, and a 
 very charming one I found her ; and after her some of the prettiest 
 wives and maidens of Hard. Many of them danced exceeding well, 
 and did infinite credit to the Frau Schulzin, who had been their only 
 instructress. The venerable gray-haired pastor, who mingled with 
 his flock like a grandfather among his beloved children's children, 
 was not the least interesting person of the group. We sat at 
 supper as chance or choice dictated. A fair young rustic, who sat 
 next me, entertained me very agreeably and very rationally, far 
 more so than many a fashionable clamsel, whom it has been my lot 
 to meet in circles of far higher pretensions, has done since. 
 
 As soon as ray carriage was mended, and my servant in condition 
 to travel, I left Hard. Engelbert, who considered me as his guest 
 in a house that belonged to him, would not hear of my offering any 
 remuneration where I had lodged. I left his village, therefore, as 
 his debtor, with what feelings of genuine admiration and respect, I 
 need not describe to you. You have now the history of my second 
 millionaire, (continued Counsellor Von Rodern,) deduce what 
 advantage you can for the point in dispute. 
 
 Even those among us who had defended Morn's misanthropy 
 could not deny that Engelbert had had fully as much cause for 
 hostility to society in general ; and confessed that, with the same 
 views of social evil, he had been no self-indulgent Morn, but an 
 unwearied benefactor of his kind. Yet they were unwilling to give 
 
 * A common practice in Germany. 
 
^w 
 
 I 
 74 t iP THE TWO MILLIONAIRES. 
 
 up the cause, but defended Morn, as Kousseau had been defended, 
 on the score of the excessive susceptibility of his temper. 
 
 " To speak more plainly, he was a vain man, or, as the phrenol- 
 ogists would say, his^pprobativeness was strongly developed," said 
 Von Krachen, smiling. "Hence he was easily deceived, and the 
 often-deceived man is inevitably a mistrustful man. With less 
 judgment than imagination, he was often as much mistaken in him- 
 self as in others, adopted opinions upon insufficient grounds, and 
 drew general inferences from particular cases." 
 
 Engelbert had both head and heart in the right place, and did 
 not abandon a general principle because of a trifling failure in 
 peculiar instances. Many lament and complain of the perversity 
 and corruption of the world. Engelbert hated the corruption, but 
 he did not whine over it. He attacked it boldly within his own 
 little world, and reformed it. He made war on the error, but not 
 on the erring. Pity that there are not a few more Engelberts in 
 the world ! But the greater part of our world-reformers like the 
 theory far better than the practice. They can eulogize virtue 
 freely, but have no courage for the practice of it. They are them- 
 selves fettered by the very follies and prejudices against which they 
 cry out so lustily. They are weaklings without heart for that 
 truth and nature they so loudly commend, and hug the chain while 
 they contemn the slavery. Or, if they make the sacrifice, they will 
 have counter-sacrifices; praise, honor, popular applause. How 
 many would like to put themselves in Engelbert's place, act the 
 reformer's part, instead of declaiming it ; bear all that was repul- 
 sive in it, bear to be misconstrued and misrepresented, and never 
 once ask, will the world applaud the action? And till people are 
 found willing to do this, take my word for it, though the preachers 
 may be many, the converts will be few. 
 
"I OWE YOB ROTHIffE, Sffi," 
 
 PART I. 
 
 THE EARL. 
 
 THE recess was drawing to a close. The countess and her daugh- 
 ters had already left for London. The earl remained at the castle, 
 to give further directions about the estate, with no companion but 
 his heir. 
 
 To this boy's interest the father was dedicating his life. He had 
 watched him during ten years with intense anxiety. He had seen 
 faculties of the highest order developing themselves in his char- 
 acter, and he resolved to train him for the service of the state. 
 
 Reflecting that much of his own time had been consumed in the 
 petty cares of a numerous tenantry, the earl yielded to the proposals 
 of his factor, divided his estate into large sheep-farms, and expelled 
 his old tenants. In this way, he thought, his son would find fewer 
 cares to trouble him when he grew up, and more time to realize his 
 destiny. 
 
 The arrangements were nearly completed. The factor and his 
 officials had been with the earl all the morning. They were gone 
 to eject the last of the tenants. The earl continued at the writing- 
 desk, and wrote as follows to his countess : 
 
 " These vile attacks, my dearest countess, we shall scorn. The 
 newspapers must minister to the insatiate malice against our order, 
 which rankles in the breasts of the vulgar. Our apology, our 
 reason, I should rather say, is to be found in the ways of Prcjvi- 
 dence. We have acted in strict accordance with the laws which 
 rule our race. Everywhere ignorance must give place to knowl- 
 edge ; the incapable to those who have capacity. The business 
 habits, the extensive enterprise, the improved skill of the Lowland 
 farmers, supplant the backwardness, the unskilfulness, the sluggish- 
 ness, of our Highland tenantry. We lament that it must be so. 
 The touching verses in your own diary express our sorrow. But 
 
 (75) 
 
76 "l OWE YOU NOTHING." 
 
 the time was come. The law of Providence was to be vindicated ; 
 and our much bepitied tenantry are gone to supplant those who are 
 less skilful in North America, who again, years ago, naturally en- 
 tered into the place of the aborigines. 
 
 "I sometimes feel, however, as if I would not have cared to be- 
 come the voluntary agent in the hand of Providence, had it not 
 been for our beloved Noel. My heart leaps up when I reflect how 
 my present toils will advantage him. Often my thoughts project 
 into the future. I see our boy a leader among the greatest. . Not 
 a day goes past which does not bring some token of his greatness 
 to my sight. 
 
 " This very morning he came to me, as I was reading in the 
 deep window of the library, and said, pointing to the bay, ' Look 
 there, father. I have seen the bay a thousand times filled with 
 water, and the waves chasing each other to the beach. Far over on 
 the opposite shore I can see the horses moving along the road ; and, 
 to the right and left, our bay is walled in by land. I see land 
 wherever I turn. When I come from London I see nothing but 
 land. I should like to look upon the broad ocean, father. You 
 told me yesterday it is to be seen from Headland Crag there. Be- 
 hind it you say the sea rolls in from America. Let me go up there 
 while you are engaged with the factor. I will climb up by the 
 shepherds' track.' 
 
 " What a spirit, my countess ! Would it not have been cruel to 
 have denied him ? I wished, indeed, to send a servant with him, 
 but he would not go on that condition. The self-relying, courage- 
 ous boy ! 
 
 "While I write to you, he will be enjoying his reward. I well 
 remember, when a boy, my first ascent of the crag. Up and up 
 through the ploughed fields and the brown heath I climbed, until 
 I reached the hard rock, rugged and bare, which shoots up at the 
 summit. It was a worthy spectacle. Far as my eye could reach, 
 the sea stretched out before me, until it seemed to blend into the 
 very heavens. I had only seen it in the bay before, rolling in from 
 the opposite shore. I now beheld it sweeping away into the infinite ; 
 and even in my childhood I deemed it a glorious sight. So, 
 doubtless, does our Noel deem it at this moment, as a new idea is 
 taking its place in his mind." 
 
 He gave the letter to a domestic to carry to the neighboring post- 
 town, and took up the plans of his estate. In vain, however, did 
 he attempt to fix his mind upon the dry outlines ; it was with Noel 
 on the top of Headland Crag. 
 
77 
 
 The bell of the castle struck four as he was thus engaged. Ha 
 had calculated on Noel's return before this hour. A pang of unea- 
 siness shot through the father's heart. He strove to subdue it by 
 his confidence in the boy's energy. It would not be subdued. In 
 two hours more the sun would set. Should night overtake the 
 young adventurer, what mishaps might then ensue ! The earl rose 
 in restlessness. The door of the library opened upon a lovely lawn 
 that swept down like a crescent, shaping itself to the bay. A little 
 to the left, on the public road, was a jutting point, from which a 
 view of the path over the crag was commanded. Thither he bent 
 his steps. In vain, however, did his eye range from top to base ; 
 in vain he searched every turn of the footpath through his pocket- 
 glass. No Noel was to be seen. An old thorn stump that grew 
 near the summit was, for a moment, mistaken for the boy, and the 
 anxious father made beckoning signs with his handkerchief. Then 
 a solitary bush, half way to the base, was supposed to be the wearied 
 heir resting for a little. Objects innumerable assumed the shape 
 of Noel, but Noel himself came not. He was in the act of waving 
 his handkerchief to one of these delusive objects, his uneasiness 
 passing into fear, when he heard the approach of footsteps; and, 
 turning about to conceal his anxiety by the assumption of an in- 
 different air, and to see what stranger was travelling on that lonely 
 road, he beheld one of the most singular figures he had ever chanced 
 to set his eyes upon. 
 
 If our readers would fancy Samuel Johnson's head and shoulders 
 perched upon a short, spare body, and the very slimmest legs 
 these last particulars encased in dim shepherd tartan a camlet 
 cloak suspended from the afore-mentioned shoulders, and an am- 
 phibious expression of youth and age over the whole, they would 
 see for themselves the traveller who now came forward to the earl 
 and stood uncovered in his presence. 
 
 His lordship was in no mood to be troubled at that time, but 
 there was something in the demeanor of the traveller which com- 
 manded his attention. 
 
 "You have business with me?'* insinuated his lordship, as the 
 stranger continued silent. "May I presume to know what you 
 are ? " 
 
 "I was the schoolmaster of your late tenants," the stranger 
 replied. "Your factor's servants have expelled me this morning 
 from my school and home. I am now houseless and helpless. My 
 wife and childian are with me." 
 
 As he spoke he pointed to the weary group resting on the beach, 
 looking fixedly at the earl and himself. Now it was not specially 
 
78 
 
 apparent to the earl that the poor man who stood beside him was a 
 victim to the policy which he had been pursuing of late on his es- 
 tate. Between the effects of that policy on his old tenantry, and 
 the policy itself, he had drawn a sufficient veil, so that he could 
 look at the one without being self-accusingly troubled about the 
 other. He, therefore, listened to the statement which had just 
 been made, as a formal judge would to a passionate plea of not 
 guilty, with an almost entire indifference, arising out of the convic- 
 tion that such things must necessarily occur. And yet the earl was 
 not a bad man. He was simply one who looked upon human life 
 from the position of an earldom. In the very philosophy which 
 bred this indifference, there was an element which the sight of the 
 wearied wife and children was exactly fitted to bring into action. 
 We saw in his letter to the countess that he considered himself as 
 an agent in the hand of Providence when he was expelling his un- 
 skilful tenantry. On a similar ground he held that his order was 
 the natural custodier, and the appointed dispenser of the charities 
 of Providence. Hence, a few months before, he had hurried down 
 from Parliament to sit as chairman at a county meeting, called to 
 consider the case of the poor, and had made speeches which were 
 circulated as the very cream and essence of benevolence. And 
 hence, also, as if the action were the irresistible effect of the sight 
 he was directed to, he drew a sovereign from his purse, and held it 
 out to the houseless teacher. 
 
 To his utter amazement, the teacher put the hand which held 
 out the gratuity from him, and said, with great dignity, 
 
 "My lord, I did not come to beg your charity. Grod has en- 
 dowed me with knowledge, and I desire to impart it." 
 
 A frown crept over the earl's brow. 
 
 The schoolmaster continued, 
 
 "I have applied for two schools, and have been unsuccessful. 
 I have no certificate. They who could best tell my worth, or want 
 of worth, are far out on the sea. Your factor never heard of me. 
 I have no man to speak for me. So I have come to your lordship. 
 Your lordship's influence may procure me a school which is vacant 
 on your neighbor's estate." 
 
 "You have come in a wrong spirit," replied the earl, dropping 
 the rejected sovereign back into his purse ; " and besides, you have 
 come to one who knows you not. I cannot promise you my influ- 
 ence." 
 
 The last sentence was uttered in an irritated tone, and the 
 speaker was turning away to be quit of the applicant, when the 
 latter said, 
 
I OWE YOU NOTHING." 79 
 
 " If I have spoken rudely, my lord, pardon me. Indeed, I did 
 not purpose to do so. Yet I have been sorely tried this day. I 
 beg you, for my family's sake, not to withhold the favor I ask." 
 
 The earl made no reply. 
 
 The teacher waited for a moment, and then resumed, in a half 
 soliloquy, for the hope of effecting his purpose was fading away, 
 
 " I was trusting to your influence, my lord. I did not think it 
 would have been refused. I thought I deserved it, to some extent. 
 My father, and my father's father, were tenants under your ances- 
 tors. I have taught the children of your tenantry. My lord " 
 
 "I cannot help you, sir; I cannot help you," interrupted the 
 earl, turning full round and confronting the poor teacher. te Your 
 father's father I did not know. I do not know their son. If you 
 taught the children of my tenantry, they would, doubtless, pay you 
 for your work. You deserve nothing at my hands. I am not 
 bound to you. I owe you nothing, sir, nothing." 
 
 So saying, his lordship strode away to arouse the castle, servants 
 to the search for Noel, and left the schoolmaster standing in the 
 middle of the road. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 THE TEACHEE. 
 
 IN a mean hovel, built by the farmers of the preceding genera- 
 tion on a piece of land which could by no skill of husbandry known 
 to them be turned to any other account, the man who was treated 
 with so much contempt by the earl had kept a school since he was 
 a boy. There, three miles from the spot on which he now stood, he 
 had taught, with a loving and willing heart, the children of the 
 ejected tenantry. He was a thoughtful, simple soul, who knew 
 little of the world in which the earl moved. At this particular 
 time, too, he was sickly. And the haughty words stung his heart, 
 and brought the tear into his eye. 
 
 "He owes me nothing!" he muttered to himself. "I did not 
 say he did. I never, till now, thought he did. I sought his help 
 as a favor, not as a debt. Yet, now I think, he did owe it to me. 
 Grod help my family ! Our trust is not in princes, nor in men's 
 eons." 
 
 He repressed his emotion, however, as well as he could, and 
 returned to his wearied and houseless companions. They were all 
 
80 "I OWE TOD NOTHING." 
 
 weeping. They had seen the earl turning away, and guessed the 
 result. Three children clung around the mother. The youngest 
 did not understand the cause of the sorrow, but wept because the 
 rest were weeping. 
 
 A word about the teacher's wife. She was a true helper, and 
 right noble soul. Her mind was firmer, more capacious, than her 
 husband's. She had stayed up his sinking spirits when the proba- 
 bility of their present circumstances first darkened their minds ; and 
 now, in the actual circumstances, she was not wanting in either 
 words or dee^s of hope. Her grief gave way speedily to a better 
 feeling. 
 
 " Let us not fail to hope, Duncan," she said ; " I feel assured 
 that your application will be attended to. God will provide for you 
 a school. We must hasten towards the town ! night is drawing on." 
 
 Shall we tell our readers that the whole family knelt down upon 
 the beach, and committed their way to that Being whose ear is ever 
 open to the cry of the afflicted ? When they rose, the father slung 
 the youngest child in a plaid upon his breast, the mother bound a 
 little bundle of valuables upon her back, each took one of the two 
 elder children by the hand, and thus they resumed their journey. 
 
 Their road lay along the shore of the castle bay, and then round 
 the peak, and along the other base of the headland, which Noel had 
 ascended that morning. As they passed the castle, they saw the 
 earl and domestics bustling and running about in great alarm. 
 Ignorant of the cause, the poor teacher could not help recalling the 
 bitter words which his lordship had spoken, and thus addressed his 
 wife, 
 
 " I think, Rachel, that my ill-requited toils among his tenantry 
 might have engaged him to a little interest in our future welfare." 
 
 " At all events, Duncan," the wife replied, " he owed you an 
 apology kind words, at least for the rudeness of his factor's 
 men to us this day. " Yes," she continued, with a dash of indigna- 
 tion glowing in her face, " he owed you help, he owed you sympathy, 
 he owed you justice. He was bound to you, to me, to these little 
 ones, by our very sorrow, even, if it had not been caused by him- 
 self." 
 
 But either her indignation or her grief, or both together, choked 
 her utterance, and she said no more. Duncan did not venture to 
 reply. In truth, he was unable. The wrong which had been done 
 to him was at present hidden from his view by his anxiety about the 
 future. He could not yet define it or utter it. It lay dmrnb in him 
 in the deep recesses of grief and fear. With Rachel, it was differ- 
 ent ; she clearly saw the thought which her husband only dimly 
 
I OWE YOU NOTHING." 81 
 
 felt. Although she continued silent, the thought was working in 
 her soul. Her flushed face, her quickening steps, indicated how 
 clearly she apprehended the injustice of the earl's reply. 
 
 " Proud earl that he is ! " she exclaimed within her own mind, 
 " with all his greatness he does not know how sacred is a human 
 home. What other earl, what other earthly dignitary, what human 
 heart, so cruel as to have acted as he and his have done ! He said, 
 * I do not know you I owe you nothing, you inconsiderable boor 
 on my estate ! ' The man was wrong, proud peer ! who taught 
 thee so to speak. A better than thou did not refuse to know us, 
 and to help us well. Morning and evening He came to our solitary 
 home. He came to us with life, with bread, with reason, with 
 family ties, with words from His Father's bosom. He calls us no 
 longer servants, but friends. Are His friends to be so despised ? 
 refused the cup of cold water ? Sin lies at thy door, my lord !" 
 
 Again, however, the current of her thoughts was interrupted. 
 Duncan and the children were standing still. They had at length 
 reached the extremity of the headland. The weary bend of the 
 bay in which the castle stood had been travelled, and they were now 
 prepared to wind round to the other base of the crag, which ran along 
 the shore of the open sea, and skirted the road that led to the town. 
 
 Why are they pausing here? What has rooted them so to the 
 ground ? They cannot hide from themselves that night is hastening 
 up behind them. Yet there they stand, gazing right across the 
 mouth of the bay, and far over into the level country beyond. A 
 column of smoke is rising against the eastern sky, in the distance. 
 The wind heaves it to a side for a moment, then breaks it near the 
 ground, and bright flames issue out beneath. Duncan and his family 
 are again in tears. Rachel was the first to speak, 
 
 " The home where our babes were born ! So Duncan " 
 
 She could say no more. House and school were in flames. The 
 officials of the " agent of Providence " were burning them as worth- 
 less, and their late possessors had, unexpectedly, turned towards the 
 painful sight. 
 
 Mournfully they withdrew their gaze, and resumed their journey. 
 In a few minutes they had doubled the cape of the crag, and the 
 chill breath of the open sea beyond, came up sorely against the faces 
 of the children. 
 
 " The sea is gathering for a storm, Rachel," said the teacher. 
 
 " Let us mend our steps, children," replied the mother ; " we- 
 have to reach that spire shining far before us ere we rest." 
 
 The sea rolled in heavily on their left. On their right, sloping 
 up from the road, arose the northern face of Headland Crag. 
 6 
 
32 "I OWE YOU NOTHING. 1 
 
 PART III. 
 
 THE HEIR. 
 
 WE return to the castle for a moment. The earl had ceased to 
 think of his encounter with the" teacher. Noel's continued absence 
 filled him with alarm, and shut out every other thought. 
 
 An instant search was determined on. The earl himself, and 
 four domestics, with dogs and torches, set out for the shepherds' 
 track. Others were directed to separate and ascend the hill from 
 different points, hallooing at every step ; then to meet the earl and 
 his companions upon the highest ridge, to consider how they should 
 continue the search, if still unsuccessful. The level beams of the 
 sun were resting on the summit of the crag. as they set out, warning 
 them to lose no time. 
 
 It never occurred to the earl that Noel had been tempted to de- 
 scend the crag by the northern side. Yet so it was. When the 
 boy had clambered to the summit and obtained the wished-for sight, 
 a further longing and curiosity drew him down to the shore which 
 lay beneath. With all the thoughtlessness of a headstrong boy, he 
 yielded to the longing, and found himself in an another hour stand- 
 ing on a solitary shore at the base of that height which had taken 
 him three hours to climb from the castle bay. 
 
 While he stood, his eye caught a ship in the distance, running 
 before the wind with all her canvas set. Noel was in raptures. 
 All the coaches he had ever seen were nothing compared with 
 this. Sailing-boats of every shape were glorious in his eyes. He 
 gazed, he followed, he fairly ran. The same longing which led him 
 to descend the hill, impelled him after the sailing vessel. Along 
 the shore he ran, until he was thoroughly tired, keeping his eye 
 fixed on the ship as long as it remained in sight. When he be- 
 thought himself of home, he was far from the beaten foot-path by 
 which he had crossed. Struggling with weariness and hunger, he 
 slowly retraced his steps. Late in the afternoon he had once more 
 reached the entrance to the track. He looked upwards : the hill 
 rose above him dark with gathering shadows ; to his view, nearly 
 thrice the height which it appeared in the morning from the castle 
 windows. Dismay and weariness overpowered him. He sat down 
 on the beach to rest, and soon fell asleep, his head resting upon an 
 old gray stone. 
 
 While he slept the tide began to turn. The sea rolled towards 
 his resting-place, the waves broke within a few paces of his feet : a 
 fierce wind came riding on their back. 
 
I OWE YOU NOTHING." 83 
 
 He was sleeping within tide-mark, but had providentially lain down 
 on a swell of sand ; the waves girdling him more closely, but he was 
 still above their reach. Yet all the more terrible did his condition 
 seem when he awoke and saw that his couch of sand was surrounded 
 by the waters. One cry of intense agony burst from his lips. He 
 heard the storm howling in the air. He felt the waves dashing at 
 his feet. Behind, before, the path was closed. 
 
 " Father ! father ! father ! " he cried, and alternately leaped and 
 cowered down with fear. The sun had sunk, but there was still 
 light enough to discern objects on the hill. With a child's hope he 
 continued to call upon his father, although no living thing was to be 
 seen from top to base. 
 
 Suddenly a light glanced over the ridge. Another, and another ! 
 The hill-top seemed on fire. Noel could discern figures within the 
 light, and instinctively knew they were from the castle. He re- 
 doubled his cries. 
 
 " I am here ! I am here ! I am here ! " 
 
 No human voice could reach so high. The heavy beat of the 
 thundering sea was heard but faintly by the earl and his domestics 
 on the ridge. 
 
 They, however, resolved to descend. The earl was bewildered, 
 he knew not what to think. His mind ran on pitfalls, and wild 
 beasts, and cold, and hunger, and every possible evil, but that which 
 engirdled his beloved Noel. With the speed of huntsmen they de- 
 scended, darting hither and thither into every nook, searching every 
 bush and brake in their way. Noel beheld their torches flashing 
 nearer ; he felt also, behind him, the might of approaching waters. 
 His cries continued to mingle with the blast. 
 
 Our readers have heard the loudest storm sinking into a moment- 
 ary lull. They have listened to the noise of the tempest receding 
 to gather new strength. In such a lull, the voice of Noel at length 
 pierced upwards to his father's ears. Some dim image of the actual 
 condition of his boy glanced into his father's mind. He and his 
 domestics, hallooing for Noel's sake, waving their torches, hurried 
 down, towards the shore. Yet, in vain had they hurried, if the 
 deliverance of the boy had depended upon them. 
 
 The tide was fairly upon him. The waves were already dashing 
 over his feet. A few moments more and he must have been swept 
 away. He could no longer cry. Terror now mastered him and 
 struck him dumb. He saw the black waves hurrying past him on 
 either side : the howl of the mighty wind sounded through his heart : 
 he was about to sink through fear and exhaustion, and abandon him- 
 self to the tide, when he feit himself lifted from the sand and borne 
 
84 " I OWE YOU NOTHING." 
 
 through the darkness and the waters in the arms of a human 
 being.^ 
 
 Twice his deliverer was overthrown by the rush of the waves 
 rolling to the shore. With firm clasp he was still enabled to hold 
 the child and recover his footing. 
 
 At that moment the earl and his people sprang from the shep- 
 herds' track. 
 
 They ran about in all directions, hallooing the boy's name. Some 
 of them leaped down upon the beach. A woman and three children 
 were gazing into the sea with the greatest agitation. 
 
 " Help ! help ! " cried the woman, " he is there ! in save my 
 husband and the child ! " 
 
 Before the men could comprehend her meaning, they beheld a 
 man bearing a child aloft, struggling towards the shore, nearer, 
 nearer. His burden is safe ! He, himself, sinks exhausted into 
 the arms of the woman. 
 
 Noel rushed into his father's arms, and clasped him again and 
 again. A few words sufficed to explain his danger and his unex- 
 pected deliverance. The earl turned to thank the brave being to 
 whom he owed so much. He found him still leaning on the wo- 
 man's breast ; and manifested the tenderest sympathy. 
 
 " My benefactor, my friend, my brother, how shall I ever repay 
 you ? Come with us to the castle. Accept this purse. In what 
 way can I assist you, or pay you the debt you have so generously 
 laid me under ? " 
 
 He was going on in this somewhat incoherent style, when the 
 man lifted up his face from his wife's bosom and answered, in tones 
 which the earl too well remembered, 
 
 " My lord, you owe me nothing. I have but done my duty." 
 
 It was our teacher. The screams of the heir caught his ears 
 too, in that momentary lull of the storm. Giving the child to 
 Rachel, he had ventured through the surge, and was enabled to do 
 the deed we have already described. 
 
 We will not attempt to describe the mingled feelings of the earl. 
 The liveliest gratitude struggled painfully within him beneath the 
 pressure of Duncan's proud retort. To this man he had spoken 
 rudely but a few hours before. He was now bound to him eternally. 
 Once and again he proffered his thanks, and renewed his offers of 
 hospitality and help. The pride of the teacher stepped between, 
 and waved his lordship's help away. 
 
 " This morning," said the earl, " you asked a favor at my hands. 
 May I now offer what I then refused ? " 
 
" I OWE YOU NOTHING." 85 
 
 " My lord, you owe me nothing nothing, my lord. Rachel, 
 let us hasten on our way." 
 
 Rachel had listened with eagerness all the while. She would not 
 have spoken in the earl's presence, if her name had not been men- 
 tioned. She knew her husband's pride of heart: she knew 
 how deeply he had cause to feel the conduct of the earl's officials. 
 But now the circumstances were changed. The peer was asking 
 what the teacher had to bestow. 
 
 " Duncan," said she, " have you forgotten that God has bound 
 the human race together in bonds of mutual debt ? Each one owes 
 something to every other, and to all. Whatever God has given to 
 one, which he has not given to all, is given to be returned to the 
 brotherhood of earth. Our gifts, our goods, our affections, what- 
 ever we have which others have not, we must look upon as due to 
 them. Did you not look upon yourself as debtor to the children 
 you taught, to me, to these little ones ? Is not this your own be- 
 loved doctrine ? Will you refuse to acknowledge it now ? Owe 
 you not to this earl the acceptance of his thanks and help ? " 
 
 These words were uttered slowly to an unwilling ear. But they 
 broke down the proud spirit, and accomplished their end. 
 
 " Enough, Rachel. I have acted sinfully. My lord, bear with 
 a man vexed and irritated by the unusual events of this day. I 
 accept your kind offer ; and will gladly return with you to the 
 castle, and renew my request to-morrow." 
 
 The earl was touched. He had learned a lesson this day which 
 had at once humbled and exalted him ; with a truer feeling towards 
 his brother man than had ever stirred in his bosom hitherto, he re- 
 plied, 
 
 " Duncan, I will more than grant your request. You shall 
 abide on our estate, and be provided there with a school worthy of 
 you." 
 
 He was as good as his word. A handsome school was built for 
 Duncan within a mile from the castle. Better days dawned on him 
 and his brave Rachel. On looking back, he felt that he had been truly 
 led by a way he knew not, not merely to improved circumstances, 
 but to clearer apprehensions of the duty which man everywhere 
 owes to man. He never ceased to impress on his own children that 
 a poor man may be as proud as a peer, and as inconsiderately with- 
 hold what he owes to his titled brother. 
 
NOTES OF A JOURNEY ACHflSS THE 
 ISTHMUS OF PANAMA. 
 
 
 WE left New York on the 17th of July; and on the 28th of 
 the same month cast anchor before Chagres, one of the eastern 
 ports of the Isthmus of Panama. A leaden sky, a humid and 
 oppressive atmosphere, and peals of thunder, that were echoed from 
 the depths of the close woods, contributed not a little to give a mel- 
 ancholy aspect to a port whose reputation for unhealthiness has 
 eclipsed even that of Senegal. 
 
 Though Chagres is so conveniently situated between the two 
 oceans, and the two lines of steam navigation that connect the 
 United States with California, it is but a miserable village, com- 
 posed of a few Indian huts, which are constructed of wood and 
 stubble, and stand on each side of the river. The streets are complete 
 puddles during the rainy season, which occurs in winter. This 
 season is most fatal to health, because of the humid heat that pre- 
 vails, and the deleterious miasma which is disengaged from all parts 
 of the soil. Serious maladies may be contracted within a few hours ; 
 and strangers are eager to leave this inhospitable place. The boat- 
 men of the river Chagres, who were formerly hard put to it to earn 
 a miserable subsistence, now gain very considerably by the American 
 emigration to California, and the haste of travellers to leave this 
 noxious coast and get up the river to Panama. In order to secure 
 their own price from the poor strangers at their mercy, they take 
 care only to exhibit a small number of boats while there are plenty 
 more out of sight along the opposite bank of the river. 
 
 We left Chagres on the 30th July. The entrance of the river 
 presented a most rich and beautiful aspect. Palms and cocoa-nut 
 trees, and other gigantic productions of the climate, made two bar- 
 riers on either side the stream of impenetrable verdure. Thoir long 
 
A JOURNEY ACROSS THE ISTHMUS OF PANAMA. 87 
 
 branches, gracefully inclining over the water, projected afar their 
 splendid shadows, by which the voyager was only too happy to profit. 
 The first impression produced by the sight of this luxuriance of 
 nature is that of profound admiration ; to which shortly succeeds 
 a vague sinking of the spirits. This doubtless proceeds from the 
 enervating odors sent forth by tropical vegetation, and from the 
 gases produced by the soil of the plants, whose absorption, emission, 
 and flow, of sap, acquire, in the heat and humidity to which they 
 are constantly subjected, an extraordinary energy. Alternately peace- 
 ful as a lake, and impetuous as a cataract, this river seems to pride 
 itself in its violent contrasts. Its habitual visitors were more sur- 
 prised than frightened by our approach. Here the wild turkey-hen, 
 with plumage of ebony, sailed round a palm tree, slowly beating the 
 air with her heavy wings. Further on were clouds of paroquets, 
 gay with a thousand tints, and uttering their sharp, provoking cries. 
 From time to time we could distinguish, in the middle of the thick- 
 ets, the scaly and yellowish bodies of alligators, which are very 
 common on the borders of the Chagres, where they wait entire 
 hours for their prey, in a state of perfect immobility. 
 
 We were not long in arriving at a filthy hamlet, named Gatoung. 
 There are few things so comical as a disembarkation in this country. 
 The moment you place your foot upon the soil, which is nothing 
 but mud, it sinks beneath your feet ; and it is not without a great 
 deal of trouble, and often at the sacrifice of your boots, which are 
 left imbedded in the dirt, that you at length gain the top of- the 
 slope. We were ignorant, when we quitted New York, that the 
 Isthmus of Panam^ was altogether without resources. We had not 
 therefore been careful to lay in a store of victuals necessary for our 
 journey; and a little sea biscuit and a few pots of preserves com- 
 posed all our stock. Our halt at Gatoung gave us the opportunity 
 of visiting several Indian huts, where we met with the most hospi- 
 table welcome, and we profited by this reception to try to procure 
 some food. They at length directed us to a habitation where the 
 inmates had a pot on the fire ; the preparation of an otta of rice 
 was quite an event in the district. A few crown-pieces obtained 
 us a portion of this modest repast, and we succeeded besides in dis- 
 covering in a neighboring hut a stray bottle of Xeres. Having for- 
 gotten to bring rain-water from Chagres, we found ourselves reduced 
 to quench our thirst with the unhealthy water of the river, the 
 crudity of which it was well to correct with a few drops of a spirit- 
 uous liquor, even after it had been filtered. One of our number 
 had fortunately brought with him a filter, which enabled us to ob- 
 tain a passable draught. Thirst is perhaps the most dangerous 
 
88 A JOURNEY ACROSS THE ISTHMUS OF PANAMA. 
 
 enemy one has to encounter on the Isthmus of Panama. I have 
 seen more than one American pay with his life for the fatal habit of 
 listening to the temptations of this demon. 
 
 Continuing our route, pight surprised us, and lent a new aspect to 
 the surrounding scene. The majestic shadows of the huge trees 
 upon the waters the pale rays of the moon, that made the river 
 like a sheet of silver the silence around, uninterrupted save by 
 the regular strokes of the oars, and the cries of the night birds, all 
 contributed to the fascination of the hour. At length we arrived 
 at a small creek, where our old pilot made us remain until sunrise. 
 
 Towards the evening of the second day, we arrived at the village 
 of Pedro Blanco, where, after long and troublesome negotiations, 
 we succeeded in obtaining a little rice for supper. Two of my 
 travelling companions, who had been exploring the neighboring 
 forest, brought in a couple of pretty paroquets, which were soon 
 plucked, and added as a relish to our rice. But the flesh of this 
 bird is far from equalling its plumage ; and, notwithstanding the 
 good-will of our sportsmen, they were compelled to pronounce their 
 game horribly tough. 
 
 The next day the boatmen substituted the palanca for the oar. 
 The palanca is a long pole, terminating in an iron point, which is 
 pushed into the bed of the river, or into the roots or trunks of the 
 trees, in such a manner as to shove the boat onwards, as much as pos- 
 sible avoiding the current. This mode of propulsion, more efficacious 
 than the oar, has likewise the merit of being less fatiguing. But 
 it exposes the passengers to certain dangers, and this was to be our 
 day of misfortunes. One of the boatmen, by some awkwardness, 
 lost his palanca. The boat, which had been adroitly .guided close 
 along the bank of the stream, ceded to the impetuosity of the cur- 
 rent, which was not to be mastered by an unequal number of palan- 
 cas, and was driven against an enormous trunk of a submerged tree 
 in the middle of the river. The frightful force of the shock staved 
 in our front plank. The water began to pour in, and we saw our- 
 selves on the point of capsizing, without the power of leaving the 
 boat, shut in as we were by its roof of branches and our numerous 
 packages. But we escaped this danger by a species of miracle, and the 
 current, carrying us rapidly on, left the poor Indian, who had lost 
 his palanca, suspended in the air to the bough of a tree, which he 
 had seized with all his strength to avert the violence of the shock. 
 Seeing us leaving him rapidly behind, he at length allowed himself 
 to drop into the water, and swam ashore. The two men who now 
 remained shoved the boat towards a creek, where we found a shelter 
 
, A JOURNEY ACROSS THE ISTHMUS OP PANAMA. 89 
 
 for the night, and where the other Indian shortly afterwards 
 rejoined us. Here we repaired the damage we had received. 
 
 This night, another boat, containing several Americans, was 
 moored beside ours. The desperate condition of one of their 
 number had compelled them to halt. The unhappy man had been 
 suddenly attacked by cholera, after drinking a little milk and eat- 
 ing several oranges. I shall never forget the' night that we passed 
 beside the poor sufferer, who, far from his family and all remedies, 
 was fast approaching his end, without even a bed to lie upon. His 
 companions unceasingly administered eau-de-vie, which had no 
 other effect but to accelerate the disease. The plaintive groans of 
 the wretched man hindered us from shutting our eyes for a moment, 
 and at the same time recalled the dangers to which we ourselves 
 were exposed in that frightful climate. The next morning he was 
 no more ; and his friends were obliged to beg the assistance of their 
 boatmen, and of some inhabitants of the neighboring hamlet, in 
 rendering the last duties to his remains. 
 
 Having now repaired the breach in our plank, we would have 
 continued our route, but one of the men, retained by the hope of 
 participating in the benefits of the interment, .opposed our depart- 
 ure. Hoping, doubtless, to moderate my eagerness to continue the 
 journey, he said, pointing at the same time to the corpse of the 
 American with a significant smile "Este muerto y od esta 
 enfermo " (he is dead, and you are ill) ; an observation far from 
 reassuring to a traveller laboring under a slight attack of fever in 
 an unhealthy climate. The interment over, and the piastres pock- 
 eted, our phlegmatic boatmen decided upon continuing the voyage. 
 The banks of the river now began to lose their grand and pictu- 
 resque aspect, which they had owed to the beauty and density of 
 the woods with which they were clothed. We terminated happily 
 a day so ill commenced, and arrived at night at the village of San 
 Pablo. 
 
 -The next morning, at a little distance from a small town named 
 Grorgona, we perceived an American steamboat abandoned in the 
 river. The numerous obstacles it had encountered had completely 
 disabled it after only a few voyages. In order to secure a safe nav- 
 igation for steamers of the very smallest dimensions, the Rio 
 Chagres ought to be completely cleared. It is obstructed, through- 
 out the whole extent of its course, by trunks of trees, often hidden 
 by merely a few feet of water. While waiting for the great roads 
 which the Americans intend to establish through the isthmus, it is 
 urgent that the Rio Chagres should be rendered navigable. The 
 
A JOURNEY ACROSS THE ISTHMUS OF PANAMA. 
 
 emigrants and the country generally have the greatest interest in 
 this measure. 
 
 The Chagres rises near Cruces, a small town situated about six 
 leagues from Panama and two from Gorgona. Its course is nearly 
 seventeen leagues. Travellers, en route for Panama, sail up it aa 
 far as Cruces, which, besides being two leagues nearer than Gor- 
 gona to Panama, possesses also an ancient royal Spanish road a 
 very bad one, it is time, but much better than that of which we 
 shall have occasion to speak. Most of the Americans who landed 
 at Chagres at the same time with our party went on to Cruces, 
 which was likewise our first intention. But our boatmen and oth- 
 ers assuring us that the means of transport were very rare, and 
 cholera and fever rife, we determined to land at Grorgona a reso- 
 lution of which we afterwards had reason to repent. In this coun- 
 try a stranger cannot be too much on his guard against the mis- 
 representations of the boatmen, on the one hand, whose interest it 
 is to shorten the voyage, and of the inhabitants, on the other, in 
 order to secure to themselves the advantage of his sojourn in their 
 locality. There is a regularly organized conspiracy against his 
 purse. 
 
 Gorgona is, like Chagres, an irregular assemblage of from sixty 
 to eighty huts, intersected by steep streets, where mud and water 
 replace the pavement. These habitations are but one story high ; 
 they have neither flooring nor ceiling, and they are frequently 
 flooded during the rainy season. The town has already its hotel, 
 which possesses four beds, a few hammocks, no windows, but nu- 
 merous holes in its thatched roof, which permit one to contemplate 
 the firmament when the weather is fine, and favor the inmates with 
 gratuitous douches when it rains. The food corresponds with the 
 lodging. 
 
 Contrary to what one usually remarks in unhealthy climates, the 
 natives of New Granada appear equally exposed with strangers to 
 the reigning maladies. There is scarcely a hut where one does not 
 encounter some poor wretch trembling with the calentura, or the 
 fever. The cholera, likewise, in 1849, made terrible ravages. 
 The physical characteristics of the population are easily enumer- 
 ated. They possess finely-formed limbs, equally vigorous and 
 supple, copper-colored skins, tolerably regular features, and black 
 hair, but not crisp like that of the negroes. The men are gener- 
 ally clad in a species of shirt, which descends a little way down 
 the leg. The women add to this a petticoat. Both sexes wear 
 straw hats, with broad brims to shade them from the sun. The 
 inhabitant of the Isthmus of Panama is kind and hospitable. In 
 
A JOURNEY ACROSS THE ISTHMUS OF PANAMA. 91 
 
 great matters he may be entirely trusted, but it is well to place 
 tempting trifles out of sight. He wants energy and character; 
 there is no very decided leaning to good or evil. An extreme filial 
 tenderness, as among the Chinese, is the sole peculiarity that 
 breaks in upon his habitual indifference'; all his faculties seem to 
 languish under the enervating effects of the climate. Nothing is 
 more monotonous than rural life in these countries. With the excep- 
 tion of some rare excursions, the people pass their time in smoking, 
 and sleeping in a wretched hut, scarcely sheltered from sun and 
 rain by a roof of palm-leaves. Many huts are formed of nothing 
 but four stakes supporting a species of loft, where the family pass 
 the night extended upon mats, and to which they mount by the 
 trunk of a tree, notched at regular distances, so as to serve for a 
 ladder. The domestic utensils consist of one or two kettles, and a 
 few large jars, of a spherical form, which hold rice and rain-water. 
 They light a fire on the ground, and cook in the open air. Men 
 and women eat squatted upon their heels ; and the use of tobacco 
 is common to both sexes. 
 
 Gorgona possesses an alcadd, to whom we were obliged to address 
 ourselves for the fifteen or twenty mules which were needed to con- 
 vey us and our luggage to Panama. The complaisant magistrate 
 placed himself at our service, and promised us an unlimited num- 
 ber of these rare and indispensable quadrupeds. But time passed, 
 and the mules did not appear. The travellers who had preceded 
 us had engrossed them all. We were consequently obliged to sep- 
 arate for a time, much against our inclination, and to hire the mules 
 as they returned by twos and threes to Gorgona. The hire of a 
 mule varies from eight to sixteen piastres. 
 
 Our advance guard, composed of two mules, two Indians, and 
 the youngest of my fellow-travellers, set out on the 5th of August. 
 Impatient to arrive at Panama, I followed the next day, the land- 
 lord of the hotel having procured me a little mare, and a guido 
 twelve years of age. Furnished with some sea-biscuit and choco- 
 late, my fusil strapped to my shoulder, and hunting-knife at my 
 side, I mounted my pitiful beast, after having disposed of a water- 
 proof cloak on its croup, and placed under the saddle a blanket, 
 which had been of the greatest service. In this fashion I left 
 Gorgona, after having bidden adieu to my remaining comrades, 
 who were to rejoin me at Panama as soon as possible, bringing with 
 them our luggage. From the beginning of my journey, we trav- 
 ersed most abominable roads. Steep and slippery declivities, riv- 
 ulets, precipices, narrow passes, where the rocks approached each 
 other so closely that the mare could not advance without the t 
 
92 A JOURNEY ACROSS THE ISTHMUS OP PANAMA. 
 
 est trouble, and at a sore expense to my poor knees, which were 
 every moment grazed against their sharp edges, all announced a 
 tiresome journey. I could not avoid making comparisons between 
 my guide and my horse. The beast greatly exceeded the boy in 
 topographical knowledge ; and, with a modesty for which I gave 
 him credit, the latter at length resigned himself to the leading of 
 the former, walking in the rear, and only crying out, from time to 
 time, aqui (here), or aca (there). When the branches of the 
 trees or their overgrown trunks barred further passage, my young 
 native resumed the lead, and speedily levelled the obstacles by the 
 aid of a cleaver, without which an Indian never sets out on a jour- 
 ney. Sometimes the mare would stop and inflate her nostrils at 
 the sight of a half-devoured mule, regretfully abandoned at the 
 noise of our approach by the vultures that disputed its remains. 
 The poor beast was constantly knee-deep in mud ; for what they 
 call a road in this country is simply the bed of a river, more or 
 less dry in fine weather, but filled again by the first heavy shower. 
 Divers claps of thunder now announced the approach of one of 
 those storms which take place every day during the winter, and in 
 a few minutes inundate the country. Urged on by the pouring 
 rain, we reached, just in time, a tolerably large river, which was 
 now forded without difficulty, but would have been impassable an 
 hour later. Vfe were luckily enabled to take refuge in a shed, 
 where I dried my clothes, and determined to remain for the night. 
 The next morning, at an early hour, we continued our journey. 
 In place of the good road I had been led to expect, I still encoun- 
 tered these muddy plains, and eternal hills bristling with rocks. 
 At length we reached a house situated upon an elevation half-way 
 between Gorgona and Panama. Here we obtained some coffee, 
 without which I could scarcely have been able to endure the 
 fatigues of the journey. At four, we arrived at the last dwelling 
 before reaching Panama. For one instant I thought of passing the 
 night here ; but my guide hindered me from following this happy 
 inspiration, solemnly assuring me that we should reach our destina- 
 tion the same evening. We therefore continued our way through 
 a prairie where the road from Grorgona unites itself with that lead- 
 ing to Graces, which, though horribly uneven, is at any rate tolera- 
 bly free from mud. Here a new annoyance was reserved for me. 
 My wretched mare, accustomed to the worst roads, refused to 
 advance now that there was a little improvement. I was reduced, 
 knocked up as I was, to dismount and lead her. By blows and 
 cries we contrived to make her advance a little way ; but our 
 progress was so slow, that some workmen occupied in repairing the 
 
A JOURNEY ACROSS THE ISTHMUS OF PANAMA. 
 
 93 
 
 road laughingly prophesied that she would never arrive at Panama. 
 This prediction, confirmed as it was by a feverish trembling of the 
 animal, was far from being agreeable. While thus slowly pro- 
 gressing, night surprised us a night of clouds and rain. The 
 obscurity was such that we could not have told where we were, save 
 for the ignis fatuus, the fire-flies, and the lightning. At length, 
 unhoped-for happiness ! we distinguished the barking of a dog, and 
 soon afterwards a light. We had reached Panama. The reader 
 may judge of my satisfaction on seeing the end of my eight days 
 of painful journeying, accomplished under such disagreeable cir- 
 cumstances. I quickly made my way to the Hotel de France, 
 where I found my young companion, who had set out the day 
 before me ; and there I speedily got rid of the fever that still hung 
 about me. 
 
 Panama is a ruinous town, the population of which does not 
 exceed 7000 souls. There is nothing remarkable about it but the 
 immense number of churches, monuments of past grandeur, and now 
 invaded by creeping-plants and turf. The bells of these venerable 
 edifices are half rusty, and morning and evening ring the most 
 lugubrious peals. There are, besides, some fortifications, and a 
 dozen old guns, disposed along the rampart that faces the Pacific 
 Ocean. This is a magnificent point of view, whence may be seen 
 the church-steeples, the vessels in the roadstead, a quantity of 
 islets, and, about two miles distant, towards the extremity of the 
 peninsula upon which Panama is situated, the ruins of the former 
 town, abandoned during the wars of the Hibustiers, in conse- 
 quence of the reiterated attacks of a famous pirate. 
 
 Panama is traversed by two principal streets, containing a few 
 tolerable shops, and a number of stalls, where they vend liquors. 
 These last, kept by obliging senoritas, boast a sort of counter, and 
 are separated by a screen from the bedchamber, where the indo- 
 lent saleswomen swing in their hammocks the greatest part of the 
 day, smoking their cigarettes, and waiting for customers. The 
 houses are built of stone, and ornamented with wooden balconies. 
 The walls present that beautiful whiteness which distinguishes 
 Spanish masonry in hot countries. But there is nothing elegant 
 about these buildings, and their interiors are deplorable. The 
 rooms are almost destitute of furniture; curtains are unknown, 
 even in the governor's palace ; and it would be hard to find in the 
 whole town a good bed or a safe lock. The pavements and foot- 
 paths respond to the houses. 
 
 The climate of this town is unhealthy, especially during the winter 
 rains, which commence in May, and end in October or November. 
 
94 A JOURNEY ACROSS THE ISTHMUS OF PANAMA. 
 
 The complexions of the inhabitants evince the noxious influence of 
 vitiated air. Fevers are very common among the natives, as also 
 mephitic colic, induced by the badness of the water, in drinking 
 which one cannot be too cautious. 
 
 The population of Panama is composed of ancient Spanish fam- 
 ilies, natives, and half-breeds. The costume of both men and 
 women is European, a little degenerated and simplified, to suit the 
 climate. The women go with the head uncovered, and decorate 
 their black tresses with flowers of penetrating odor. Without being 
 beautiful, their features are agreeable enough, and they have a good 
 deal of grace and coquetry about them. The habitual indifference of 
 the inhabitants is strongly contrasted by the howlings and clamor 
 that accompany their funeral ceremonies. These lamentations, 
 however, appear to be hired. Their interments are managed after a 
 singular fashion, as they employ a species of omnibus coffin, in 
 which they place the corpse, to carry it to the cemetery. Once 
 arrived there, they take the body from the bier, and throw it at 
 once into a fosse, returning with the empty coffin. 
 
 The natives patronize music, and other amusements, among 
 which may be reckoned cock-fighting. But the sicknesses, which, in 
 1849, clothed nearly every family in mourning, have put an end 
 to the fetes, and thrown over all a tinge of distress and fear. 
 
 The public works are executed by convicts, who are seen passing 
 every instant under military escort. These guardians appear 
 very polite to their prisoners, for, if any of the latter are stopped hi 
 the streets by. an acquaintance, the soldiers stop also, and wait very 
 tranquilly until the convicts are pleased to continue their way. 
 
 Panama possesses three or four hotels, which, upon our arrival, 
 we found crowded with travellers. Eight, ten, fifteen were sleep- 
 ing in the same chamber, upon hard rope beds, without mattresses. 
 The charge of a week's board and lodging varied from $6 75 to $7 
 50 cents, without reckoning wine, which costs from 37 cents to 75 
 cents the bottle for ordinary Bordeaux. Meat and fruit abound, 
 but vegetables are very rare. We had taken up our abode in the 
 Hotel de France, situated in one of the healthiest quarters of the 
 town; and here the companions whom we had left at Gorgona 
 hastened to rejoin us. 
 
 The crowd of emigrants, though still very considerable, was infi- 
 nitely less than it had been for some months previously, for thou- 
 sands of Americans had been compelled to abandon the place, and 
 return home, in default of financial resources, or means of transport 
 to California. Never have I seen more deplorable figures than 
 those of the poor Yankees, congregated in this little town, dragging 
 
A JOURNEY ACROSS THE ISTHMUS OF PANAMA. 
 
 themselves painfully along the streets, some under the influence of 
 fever, others under the curse of idleness, disputing with oaths and 
 imprecations upon the easiest and cheapest modes of reaching San 
 Francisco, parading their bad-humor from stall to stall, which they 
 endeavor to dissipate by reiterated doses of brandy, and then hast- 
 ening to throw away the little money they have left, in gaming- 
 houses, the last hope of these poor idlers. Once ruined, the Yankee 
 becomes himself again that is to say, the most industrious and 
 enterprising of men. He finds a thousand resources, he invents a 
 hundred modes of making money. One will engage himself as a 
 sailor, another as a cook, a third opens a shop at Panama, and, a 
 few weeks afterwards,. procures some lots of goods to be assigned to 
 him. He then commences selling, at magnificent prices, assortments 
 of American boots, harder than wood, and newly-invented coats, 
 that would have mouldered away at San Francisco without attract- 
 ing a single admirer. A number of articles, in fact, fyid a far 
 readier sale at ports situated on the way to California, than in the 
 country itself, which is inundated with products of all species. 
 
 In the mixture of the floating and the indigenous population of 
 Panama there is a most striking contrast between an almost extinct 
 civilization and a spirit of young and powerful enterprise, full of 
 nerve and promise for the future. The hoary steeples, these deserted 
 monuments, attest the former magnificence of the place, the wretched 
 inhabitants of which are, without doubt, the descendants of the proud 
 and brilliant chevaliers of other days. All is poetry and grandeur 
 in the past ; in the present, silence and decay. But mark those 
 columns of smoke, those pantings proceeding from the huge lungs of 
 the steam-monsters in the roadstead. Those large vessels are 
 freighted with passengers furnished with every species of instrument. 
 They go to acquire wealth, to organize a new state ; how differently 
 from the soldiers of Cortez and Pizarro ! Happier than these, it is 
 neither at the price of their own blood, nor that of the peaceable 
 inhabitants of the gold country, that they conduct their future oper- 
 ations. Thanks to them, Panama already beholds the commence- 
 ment of a new prosperity. Whether the project of a railway 
 through the Isthmus replace that of the Nicaraguan canal, or simply 
 a good road for ordinary communication from Chagres to Panama, 
 tfre future prosperity of this town is assured. A point of junction 
 between the two Americas, a feeble barrier to the two oceans, it is 
 one of the places marked out by the hand of Providence for the re- 
 union of nations a belt of land that will serve for the migrations 
 of races, and bring the United States nearer to China by some 
 thousands of miles. 
 
96 
 
 A JOURNEY ACROSS THE ISTHMUS OF PANAMA. 
 
 The Isthmus of Panama, notwithstanding its extreme fertility, is 
 but slightly cultivated; yet the rare agricultural experiments 
 attempted by Europeans in these parts have been attended by mag- 
 nificent results. With a little industry, some instruments of labor, 
 and collected capitals, immense fortunes might be made. But there 
 are no journals to record these facts, and no one dreams of settling 
 here. The Californian torrent still rolls on, to endure privations 
 and dangers in a country denuded of vegetation, the climate and 
 salubrity of which even the Isthmus of Panama needs not to envy. 
 
 Sailing vessels frequently arrive at this port in search of pas- 
 sengers for California, and make a lucrative affair of it. Many 
 travellers, disappointed in the regular means of transport, avail 
 themselves with blind eagerness of any opportunities of quitting 
 Panama, without considering that sailing vessels are frequently, in 
 these seas, exposed to dead calms, and are consequently incalculably 
 delayed.* 
 
TEE TWO PASSPORTS. 
 
 IN the autumn of 1830, being engaged in a tour of the Rhenish 
 provinces, I arrived one evening about dusk at the small town of 
 Bergheim, some half way between Aix la Chapelle and the fragrant 
 city of Cologne. Bergheim has a quiet, comfortable inn, at which 
 Michel, my voiturier, (who was absolute in these matters,) had 
 ordained that I should stop for the night ; nor did I feel any dispo- 
 sition to quarrel with the arrangement, when Herr Hons, the land- 
 lord, all civility and broken English, ushered me into his snug 
 Speisesaal, where, instead of the dull, uncompanionable German 
 stove I expected to find, a bright and crackling wood-fire blazed 
 merrily on the hearth. I was glad, moreover, not to find myself 
 the sole occupant of the saal, for, after all, it may be doubted 
 whether the chief pleasure of travel be not to see travellers ; and I 
 will confess, for my own part, that, without disparagement either 
 of snowy Alps or cindery volcanoes, of a Strasburg cathedral or of 
 a Basilica vaticana, of Florence galleries or of Roman ruins to 
 me the people of any country (with one sole exception) rank by no 
 means among its least interesting features. My exception is Swit- 
 zerland, where, between the glorious earth, and the inglorious race 
 that possesses it, the extremes of grandeur and littleness are brought 
 into too painful juxtaposition and contrast. Nothing can stand 
 higher in the scale of nature than Switzerland nothing in that of 
 manhood lower than the Swiss. 
 
 In the Speisesaal, then, at Bergheim, it was my fortune to light 
 upon two goodly tomes (if I may so phrase it) of " the proper study 
 of mankind :" they were, moreover, to give the coup de grace to 
 my metaphor, controversial, and on opposite sides of the question as 
 well as of the fire. In other words, there sat, installed each in his 
 chimney-corner, and armed the one with a cigar, the other with a 
 mighty pendulous pipe two " dim smokified men," plainly Ger- 
 7 (97) 
 
98 THE TWO PASSPORTS. 
 
 mans both., though widely dissimilar specimens of that very hetero- 
 geneous and multiform variety of human kind, engaged when I 
 entered, in a conversation (or, to name it in their own way, a 'twixt 
 speaking) the more vivacious for the considerable discrepancy mani- 
 fest in the sentiments of the speakers. The cigarist was a pale, 
 slight, voluble creature, under-sized and yet stooping, long-armed, 
 round-shouldered, narrow-chested, using a great deal of gesticulation 
 as. he talked, and by a particular uniform drawing-out of the right 
 arm, and a remarkable flourish, or rather twitch, of the right hand, 
 (the left being comparatively at rest,) as well as by a look, not eas- 
 ily defined, of inefficiency and dubious fidget about the lower extrem- 
 ities, as if they were not in their accustomed position, giving you 
 assurance of a tailor, as unequivocally as if he had chosen to sit on 
 tho table instead of at it ; while his sharp intonation, round-about 
 fluency, mincing utterance, occasional lapses into a Low Dutch dia- 
 lect, frequent exclamations of " yuter Tott ! " and continued inter- 
 changing of the pronouns mir and mich, and Sie and Ihnen, certi- 
 fied you with equal infallibility of a Prussian, and truly no Rhenish 
 Prussian, but a genuine nursling of Royal Berlin herself. 
 
 He of the meerschaum was a man of another stamp ; tall, and 
 bulky, yet well knit, broad of brow and chest, quiet in manner, 
 earnest but brief in speech, saying in three words what would have 
 cost his opponent three dozen, and, now and then, though not often, 
 letting fall a large and somewhat rusty-colored, though perfectly 
 clean hand, with the dunt of a sledge-hammer, on the table that 
 stood near him. You would judge him to be a grave man, yet capa- 
 ble of much joviality, straightfdrward, and hearty, and leal, and 
 who could find his way pretty far down into the wine-stoup, as 
 every German should. By many outward signs, I set him down for a 
 worker in iron, and by his speech, with more certainty, for a Sua- 
 bian ; nor was I mistaken on either point. 
 
 On my entering the room, with German courtesy they both 
 ceased smoking, until assured by me that neither to cigar nor pipe, 
 as long as they were in anybody's mouth but my own, had I the 
 smallest objection; then sitting down in front of the fire, while 
 Herr Honns saw to the due setting out of the supper, I entreated 
 that my presence might not interrupt the conversation in which I 
 found my companions engaged, adding that I had a sufficient 
 acquaintance with their language to promise myself much interest, 
 and no doubt instruction, in hearing it continued. Accordingly, in 
 five minutes they were battling away as briskly as ever. 
 
 " Fixed fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute," were, I found, 
 the pleasant after-dinner topics that occupied this curiously con- 
 
THE TWO PASSPORTS. 99 
 
 trasted pair, whose birth-pkces were not more widely asunder than 
 their habits or thoughts, and in whose handicrafts, persons, and 
 respective provincialisms of speech there were fewer and less strik- 
 ing dissimilarities, than in their views of things in general. The 
 tailor, one could gather, had been a free-thinker of the French 
 school, but now eschewed that as rococo, and professed the new and 
 more fashionable German irreligion of pantheism, or Christianity 
 according to Hegel, upon which his tongue ran I will not say 
 right on, but round about, through all the queer crinkles and 
 Gordian complexities of German sentence-weaving. The man of 
 iron, on the other hand, was Old-Lutheran to the back-bone, and 
 beyond it, and believed and spoke as his fathers had believed and 
 spoken from the sixteenth century downwards ; his words bearing 
 much the same proportion, whether for weight or rapidity, to those 
 of his antagonist, that the sledge-hammer, with its measured and 
 mighty downright strokes, may bear to the briskest possible plying 
 of the finest possible needle. 
 
 At length, (not to make my preface longer than my story,) roused 
 by some reference made in a tone of derision, by the latter, to the 
 doctrine of a particular providence, our Suabian exclaimed, with a 
 vehemence which he had not before displayed, " Ay ! you take 
 credit to yourself for being hard of faith, and yet can believe the 
 wonderful and mysterious ordering of our steps, of which every 
 reflecting man must be conscious, to be the work of blind haphaz- 
 ard ! How often are our best considered and most promising plans 
 thwarted, defeated by some influence which we cannot trace, but 
 which, after the first emotions of irritation and disappointment are 
 passed, we are constrained to acknowledge has wrought for our 
 good, perhaps for our salvation ! How often does some trifling cir- 
 cumstance, productive at the moment of its occurrence only of petty 
 annoyance, prove to be the means which a benign and watchful 
 Providence had ordained for our rescue from some impending evil, 
 which we had not so much as dreamed of! I knew a man once 
 who walked in his sleep, and was one night within five feet of a 
 precipice more than a hundred feet high, when a bat flew in his face 
 and waked him. And you would call that chance ! Well, I will 
 hope your error is more of the head than the heart ; that you are an 
 obtuse rather' than an ungrateful man. You have not experienced 
 in your own life any striking, any startling instance of the working 
 of power above you, caring for you, taking thought for you, dispos- 
 ing otherwise indeed than you had proposed, but even thereby 
 plucking your feet from the trap which the devil, in his cunning, 
 had by your own hands set for them / have. And with the 
 
100 THE TWO PASSPORTS. 
 
 proofs which my own experience has furnished me of the good 
 providence of God, I were deserving to be called, by unbelievers 
 themselves, the unthankfulest of human souls, could I believe, or 
 affect to believe, the disposal of man's ways to be committed to blind 
 haphazard ! You shall hear, you shall judge whether it be not as I 
 say ; that is, if mein Herr here will not be wearied by a story in 
 which I must figure as my own hero." 
 
 I assured him that it would be a high gratification to me to hear 
 his story. The tailor put on the face of one who resigned himself 
 to the inevitable, and the Suabian began as follows : 
 
 " I am a Wurtemberger by birth, though the greater part of my 
 life has been spent out of my native land, and especially at Ham- 
 burg, where I served my apprenticeship under my father's brother, 
 who was likewise my godfather, and gave me his own name, Carolus 
 Eisenkrafft, at the font : a kindly Suabian he was, and one, though 
 I say it, that, in his own craft, had his match to seek in Hamburg, 
 or out of it. I continued to work with him about a year after my 
 time was out ; and then, being twenty-one years of age, and wishing 
 to see other countries, and being, indeed, by the rules of our trade, 
 obliged to travel for a certain time, and learn the modes of work 
 practised in different cities and lands, before I could be received as 
 a free brother of the craft, and set up in business for myself, I set 
 out from Hamburg, and travelled across East Friesland to the 
 lower Rhine lands, and so took the course of the river upwards into 
 Switzerland. 
 
 " I did not staj long there. Switzerland was then, as now, a 
 country in which little good was to be learned, and much evil. 
 However, I left it with the same true German heart which I had 
 brought into it, hating the French, with an honest Suabian hatred, 
 from' Bonaparte down to the drum-boy. Now this was in the year 
 1806, which, as you know, was no year of peace for Europe, least 
 of all for our dear German fatherland ; and, in the journey which I had 
 before me, perils of many kinds, and from many very different quar- 
 ters, might be anticipated ; nevertheless, my mind was made up not 
 to lose any more time in Switzerland, for the year was advanced ; 
 and I was resolved that the beginning of the winter should see me 
 again in Hamburg. After all, for the workman that combines 
 industry with skill, there is but one Hamburg, just as I am told 
 there is but one Paris for folks that have money, and seek a way to 
 spend it, which, I thank my good destiny, is not my case. 
 
 t^ In my journey southwards, I had avoided Wurtemberg, keep- 
 ing strictly to the course of the Rhine, though I confess that, as I 
 the mouth of the Neckar, my heart strayed away up its 
 
THE TWO PASSPORTS. 101 
 
 waters to my Suabian home, and I looked with loving eyes on the soil 
 it had carried down from the green valley of my childhood. Now, 
 however, on my way to the north again, I said, ' I will see the familiar 
 fields and the familiar faces once more ; I will take a last leave of 
 the hills and valleys in which my earliest years passed so happily, 
 and of the dear ones that still dwell there.' A last leave for 
 you will observe, that in Wurtemberg, at this time, I was liable to 
 be shot as a deserter ; not that I had ever taken military service, 
 but just this was my crime : I was, as I have told you, one-and- 
 twenty ; and at that period, in Wurtemberg, all healthy males of 
 this age were drawn for soldiers. Such was the conscription-law, 
 which it was death to evade. To enter Wurtemberg as a Wurtem- 
 berger, was to subject myself te it ; and my first step, did I wish to 
 avoid a disgraceful death, must have been to present myself to take 
 my chance of being drawn ; whereunto, I now take shame to myself 
 in saying, my inclinations in no ways leaned. What, then, was to 
 be done ? If I visited my native place, it must be in the character 
 of a stranger ; and this was the course on which I resolved. In 
 short, I conceived the blamable determination of providing myself 
 with a false 'passport in Switzerland, that so I might with safety 
 take my fatherland in my route to the northern states. 
 
 " By means of an acquaintance I had made in Switzerland, 
 easily accomplished the first part of my project, and thus had in i#y 
 possession two passports, in both of which indeed my true name was 
 given ; but while my original and genuine passport, which I had 
 brought from Hamburg, described me as a Wurtemberger by Ibirth, 
 the new one assigned Hamburg itself as the place of my Bativity. 
 I thought, for a travelling birth-place, there was none more eligible 
 than that in which I had actually spent so much time, and in 
 which my uncle, whom I meant to use as a father WT the time, 
 was well known to have his domicile. I now, therefore, travelled 
 safely as a Hamburger through my native country, and from its 
 northern frontier, with a sorrowing heart, looked at last adieu over 
 its beloved and beautiful fields. 
 
 " I arrived the same night at Neustadt-ojs-the-Aisch, in the 
 Bavarian territory, and repaired to an inn aruited to my circum- 
 stances. The landlord, when I entered his/ house, demanded my 
 passport, and received it forthwith, promising that I should have it 
 back by times in the morning. You w;ll remember it was the- 
 false passport, which I had used since leaving Switzerland, my old 
 and true passport lying with other papers in my pocket-book. The 
 morning came ; I rose, breakfasted, and, forgetting my passport 
 was still in the landlord's hands, I set off without it. I ate not 
 
102 
 
 THE TWO PASSPORTS. 
 
 habitually a forgetful man, and to forget one's passport on a jour- 
 ney is, I suspect, a piece of thoughtlessness of which the most 
 thoughtless have seldom been guilty ; but so it was ; without any 
 passport I actually set off; nor did the circumstance recur to my 
 thoughts until I stood, the evening of that same day, before the 
 gates of Erlangen, where, of course, ' Your passport ! ' were the 
 first words addressed to me by the soldiers on guard. ' Potztaus- 
 end ! ' said I to myself, * thou hast left thy passport at Neustadt-on- 
 the-Aisch.' 
 
 " I had now nothing for it but either to say I had forgot my 
 passport, (which nobody would believe,) and so be sent back in 
 the custody of soldiers as a suspicious character, or else to produce 
 my first and genuine passport. ' They will never believe thy story/ 
 said I again to myself; 'for, to speak it without flattery, thou dost 
 not look altogether like the simpleton that would forget his pass- 
 port. Besides, who ever heard that a landlord asked for a travel- 
 ler's passport ? Thy story hangeth not well together, and they will 
 hang thee to make it good.' In short, having no other course that 
 bore an aspect any way promising, I presented, not without heavy 
 misgivings, the original Hamburg passport. This document, as I 
 need not tell you, was in its present state but an unsatisfactory 
 voucher for the worthiness of its bearer to pass unobstructed, it 
 having received no vise, nor bearing any trace of having been sub- 
 mitted to any official inspection, from Switzerland to the place where 
 I then was ; a mysterious circumstance, for which, of course, I was 
 called on to account. However, not to make my story too tedious, 
 suflice it to say, that, after finding myself for some time in an un- 
 pleasant position, I got the matter arranged, and was again free to 
 pursue my way. 
 
 . " While I was at Erlangen, there began to fall in troops forming 
 part of the vanguard of the French army ; and at Bayreuth, which 
 was the next point in my route, I found a still more considerable 
 body. The troops, having proceeded thus far by forced marches, 
 here made a halt, while I, on the other hand, now made redoubled 
 efforts to get on, it being easy to see that these parts would ere 
 long become the theatre of active hostilities. 
 
 " It was about midday, or towards one o'clock, when, by the 
 slackening of their pace and the increased briskness of mine, I lost 
 sight of these undesired companions of the way ; and that same 
 afternoon, about three o'clock, I fell in with the first outposts of 
 the Prussians. I was stopped, and asked from whence I came ; 
 and, on my answering 'from Bayreuth,' they said to one another, 
 * Why, the kerl is come direct from the French outposts.' ' I '11 
 
 
THE TWO PASSPORTS. 103 
 
 lay my life lie 's a spy/ said one. ' We shall see that/ observed 
 the officer commanding, and forthwith gave orders to carry me to 
 Hof, where the Prussians had an encampment, first, however, 
 taking from me my tablets and everything in a written form, and 
 sending these in the custody of one of my guards to head-quarters. 
 Arrived at Hof, I was compelled to strip to my shirt ; my clothes 
 underwent a rigorous search ; and the very soles of my boots were 
 ripped, to see if anything of a suspicious nature lay hid therein. 
 Ifc was the first time I had ever been in the arbitrary clutches of 
 soldiers, and the novelty was anything but pleasing. However, I 
 did not lose courage, relying upon my conscious innocence, and 
 not doubting that the matter would, on investigation, soon appear 
 in its true light. 
 
 "After a short examination, which took place in the guard- 
 room, I was consigned to a prison within the precincts of the main 
 guard. Here I found I was not the only person in trouble ; the 
 prison already contained two unhappy wretches, one of them a Jew 
 of the neighborhood, the other a tailor of Bamberg, who had been 
 taken the day before. These were really spies, and had already 
 made confession to that effect. 
 
 " All this gave me little anxiety. I still confided in my inno- 
 cence*, and did my best to make the same appear, even to my 
 wretched companions. They expressed great compassion for me, 
 chiefly on the score of my youth, and that I should be, as they 
 expressed it, cut off in the very outset of a promising career. I 
 did not like the tone of their condolences ; it was evident they took 
 me for one of their honorable guild. 
 
 " 'I assure you, meine Herren? exclaimed I, unwilling to appear 
 a miscreant, even in the eyes of such miscreants, ' I assure you 
 upon my honor I am no spy.' 
 
 " ' Ah ! ' said the tailor, ' that 's just what I said to the officers 
 yesterday. "I assure you, my officers," were my very words; 
 "honorable captains, I assure you upon my honor that I am no 
 spy. Judge of me, noble gentlemen," said I, "by yourselves; 
 put it into your own honorable breasts whether a man of honor be 
 
 capable " and so on. That 's the way I talked to them, but 
 
 it helped nothing ; not even when I offered to give them important 
 intelligence of the position and strength of the French army.' 
 
 " ' I offered to give my oath,' broke in the Jew, ' that I was no 
 spy ; and they did but laugh, and cast in my teeth a ribald rhyme 
 which they are taught from their cradles 
 
104 THE TWO PASSPORT*. 
 
 " Come the fox to his lair ? 
 Hath the Jew leave to swear ? 
 Both have planted you there! " 
 
 " 'All the curses ' 
 
 " ' But you have both confessed yourselves spies,' said I, cut- 
 ting the old sorcerer short in his Jewish curses, which I had no 
 mind to hear. 
 
 " 'I believe you,' said the tailor; 'and so will you confess 
 yourself before this time to-morrow.' 
 
 " ' Never ! ' cried I ; ' I am an honest man, and the son of an 
 honest man, and will never stain my own name, and my father's, 
 with a villany which the world's wealth should not tempt me to 
 defile my hands with.' 
 
 " ' Goodness bless you ! ' replied the tailor ; ' what 's the use of 
 talking that way to us? I, too, have been to school, and know how 
 to put words together ; yea, and can make many fine speeches out 
 of Her von Kotzebue's plays. For example, I remember a beau- 
 tiful sentiment beginning thus : " The man who " bah ! I for- 
 get the rest ; but it is infinitely touching, I promise you, and makes 
 the heart swell with the finest emotions. But what 's that to the 
 purpose ? Hearken to me : you are young and a raw hand, and 
 have run like a raw hand, into a trap. Now, if you can talk your- 
 self out of the trap, I '11 say talk is a fine thing ; but I '11 tell you 
 what it is, if you can talk a hole in that wall, and a clear passage 
 for yourself out of the Prussian lines, you 're safe ; but, not to 
 discourage you, I confess I have my doubts. I am afraid you 
 won't find the method quite so sure as might be wished. However, 
 you can try ; and I promise you, if talk don't do that for you, it 
 will do nothing else.' 
 
 " Well! ' said I, ' they can shoot me if they will; I can but 
 assert my innocence to the last. If the officers are determined to 
 put an innocent man to death, to take away life on a bare ground- 
 less suspicion, no doubt they have it in their power to do so. Let 
 them do it, then; I am not afraid to die.' 
 
 " 'They are very punctilious, my dear,' remarked the Jew; 
 ' very. They won't shoot you without a confession ; they never do. 
 They would n't put a man to death on suspicion. They are ex- 
 tremely particular on these points ; you '11 have to confess ; they 
 make a point of it/' 
 
 "'Confess!' cried I; 'confess myself a spy! falsely accuse 
 myself of a wickedness I detest ! Never ! ' 
 
THE TWO PASSPORTS. 105 
 
 " 'The provost-marshal,' observed the Jew, 'has great powers 
 of persuasion/ 
 
 " I confess I winced a little at this; hanging had not entered 
 into my calculations. After a pause, however, I replied : 
 
 " ' Well, they may hang me. Of the two, I had rather be shot ; 
 but I will not purchase the choice at the expense of my honest 
 fame, neither shall even the fear of the gallows induce me to belie 
 myself. Do what they will with me, they shall not have the satis- 
 faction of hearing me call myself a spy. I will not die with a lie 
 in my mouth.' 
 
 "'The gracious pity the boy!' exclaimed the tailor; 'hear 
 him talk of the gallows ! Death is death ; and I see little to 
 choose between the rope and the bullet ; but what do you say to 
 being flogged to death ? " Assert your innocence " by all means, 
 and die under the lash, or " belie yourself," and be shot. ' That '* 
 the choice you '11 have, this evening or early to-morrow. Bear the 
 flogging, of course, as long as you can ; life is worth bearing some- 
 thing for ; but I prophesy you will not bear it long. Besides, they 
 won't give over till they get a confession out of you. "Life is 
 sweet," said I to myself, when they tied me up this morning. "I 
 will save my life, though I be unable to put a coat to my back for 
 a twelvemonth." But I couldn't hold out I couldn't hold 
 out ; nor were it to any purpose, for I should be a dead man ere 
 now, if I had not cried guilty ! ' 
 
 " ' You will not die,' added the Jew, with the sneer of a demon ; 
 ' you will not die with a lie in your mouth. Will you die with 
 piteous meanings and cries for mercy in your mouth, which you 
 might as well address to the scourge that plays on your back, or to 
 the human tool that plies it, as to the calm tyrants that sit and see 
 it plied 1 Will you die with the thirst of the burning Tophet in 
 your mouth with the drought of the sandy wilderness in your 
 jaws? Will you die when, from the resolved and silent man, you 
 have become the shrieking woman, and from the shrieking woman, 
 the sick child that plains feebly, and can only murmur " a little 
 water, a little water," which they will not give, because they know 
 that a blessed drop of it were death, and thereby were much good 
 flogging thrown away? Men die not so speedily under the lash,' 
 proceeded he, addressing the tailor; 'and thou wouldst be alive 
 till now, though thou hadst not cried " guilty ! " Ah ! ah ! had 
 I a thousand souls, I would give them all all all ! that my tor- 
 mentors should suffer forever and ever forever and ever for- 
 ever and ever what I suffered this day at their will, before I bent 
 my will thereto, and gratified them with my confession.' 
 
106 THE TWO PASSPORTS. 
 
 " Until now, I had not seen into what a labyrinth my destiny had 
 led me. I felt, from this moment, that there remained to me no 
 other course than to prepare for death ; for I resolved firmly that I 
 would be shot rather than be flogged to death. Since now I had 
 but the choice between these two modes of being murdered, I 
 determined to give, on the very first stripe, the answer desired by 
 my oppressors. 
 
 "From five o'clock that evening till the following morning, I 
 was conducted at least half-a-dozen times before a court composed 
 of officers. My conductor was the provost-marshal ; .and at each 
 elbow walked a dragoon, their drawn swords held edgeways across 
 my breast and back. 
 
 "An examination more rigorous, or one more difficult, more 
 impossible for a man to withstand, who had anything to conceal, 
 cannot be conceived. Interrogatories of the most subtle and en- 
 snaring tendency observations ingeniously calculated to throw 
 me off my guard, insidious leading questions (which I had no 
 learned counsel to object to) cunning tricks of speech, intended 
 to surprise me into a confession or admission, direct or indirect, of my 
 presumed guilt, followed each other until my head was well-nigh 
 dizzy. If there had been a weak point in my defence it must infalli- 
 bly have been found out ; had the hollow ground of guilt been under 
 my feet, I had been engulphed without redemption. 
 
 " But as all this ingenuity was, upon an innocent man, necessa- 
 rily thrown away, the officers at last desisted from questioning 
 me, and looked dubiously in each other's faces. Now, the very 
 strong presumption of my being a spy rested chiefly on this ground, 
 that the Prussians, from the time they took up their position, had 
 suffered no one, traveller or other, any more to pass on from their 
 side in the direction of the French ; and they naturally concluded 
 that, as was customary in such circumstances, (the two armies being 
 then but two leagues asunder,) the French would have acted on 
 the same rule. When they saw me, therefore, come over from the 
 French side, the conclusion was almost inevitable that I was a spy ; 
 and the evidence of my innocence must have been very strong, 
 indeed, to have countervailed this potent presumption against it. 
 My judges, as I have said, looked dubiously into each other's 
 faces. 'After all,' at length began one, for they spoke openly 
 before me, 'it is possible that at the time the young man passed, 
 the enemy had really not taken up their position, in whicli case you 
 know there would have been no hindrance offered to his passing ; 
 so you see there is a possibility, mind, I say merely a possibil- 
 ity, for I don't build much on it, but there is a possibility of 
 
THE TWO PASSPORTS. 107 
 
 his having come over innocently, and without being aware of the 
 
 I think you do well,' said another, ' not to make too much of 
 your possibility ; yet I confess myself perplexed. Appearances are 
 desperately against the prisoner; and yet his own appearance and 
 manner are as much in his favor as those of any man I ever saw. 
 This I will say, either he is innocent or a most accomplished knave, 
 and an infinitely more dangerous villain than a hundred such pool 
 caitiffs as we took yesterday. If he be a spy, he is a perfect one.' 
 
 " * I think,' remarked the former speaker, * such a mere youth 
 could hardly be such an adept in dissimulation ; moreover, he is a 
 Suabian by his tongue ; and that is a people that have more of the 
 ox than of the fox in them.' 
 
 " * I see no great difficulty,' observed a third, ' in dealing with 
 this matter : try five-and-twenty lashes for a beginning. My life 
 on it, the provost-marshal will bring more truth out of the Jcerl 
 in five minutes, than all your cross-examining will .do in as many 
 months.' 
 
 " I was now led back to prison, and occupied myself with thinking 
 over the necessary proofs of my innocence. At this time came to 
 my recollection a story which had been told me in Switzerland, by 
 one Boschel, of Pirna ; it was to this effect. During the siege of 
 Dresden, which took place in the seven years' war, communications 
 were secretly carried on between that town and Pirna ; and the 
 Pirna people having on one occasion hired a young girl of fifteen 
 years of age, for a few groschen, to carry to Dresden one of their 
 despatches, of the contents or nature of which she had not an idea, 
 both the mission and its innocent bearer fell into the hands of the 
 besiegers, who forthwith hung the poor child. 
 
 " The recollection of this story now depressed me ; and when I 
 reflected on the so-called ' hussar-justice,' known to be acted upon, 
 particularly in spy trials, on the absence of any sufficing proofs of 
 my innocence, and on the speedy effect which the torture of the 
 lash would have to wring from me a false confession of guilt, I saw, 
 as I thought, that my hours were numbered ; and the only consola- 
 tion I had was in calling to mind, that shooting, as I had heard, 
 was a speedy and not painful mode of execution, and that to suffer 
 unjustly was, after all, no such unheard-of or unexampled fate. 
 
 " The prison, as I have said before, was situated within the pre- 
 cincts of the main-guard ; it had on the outer sides three strong 
 walls, and on the inner an iron grating, before which the sentries 
 on guard paced to and fro. I had not long been led back from my 
 examination, when a number of soldiers crowded to this grating, 
 
108 THE TWO PASSPORTS. 
 
 pushing and shouldering their way to gaze on us as if we had been 
 wild beasts. 
 
 " * One of these unlucky devils is to be shot this evening, or at 
 day-break to-morrow,' said one of our spectators. 
 
 " * Serve them right,' growled another, with many other like 
 sympathizing speeches. However, they were presently turned away, 
 and no further molestation of the kind was permitted to be offered 
 us. As for me, I knew that, as I had not yet been pronounced 
 guilty, mine could not be the execution thus spoken of as so near ; 
 nevertheless, the impression the scene had made on me was far from 
 agreeable. 
 
 " Still I had nothing for it but to accommodate myself as well as 
 I could to my destiny ; and I will say this, that I had at least no 
 feeling of unmanly terror ; I did not fear to die ; what grieved me 
 most was, that I should be thrust out of the world ignominiously, 
 and as one of the most abandoned of men. 
 
 " A short time elapsed, and I was called to a further examina- 
 tion. On entering the guard room, I noticed a certain grating 
 which had not appeared there on the former occasion. What this 
 boded, I could but too well divine ; nevertheless, I felt no violent 
 discomposure ; only I was sensible all at once of a peculiar burning 
 heat under the tongue, nowise painful, but which has so branded 
 itself on me that I retain to this day a distinct and lively impres- 
 sion of it. 
 
 " Once more I was questioned on the subjects relating to my 
 position, but naturally with a result as little satisfactory to the 
 court as before. It was resolved, therefore, to proceed without fur- 
 ther delay to the experiment of the lash, and orders were given 
 that I should forthwith be seized up to the grating aforementioned. 
 That moment I felt a new spirit possess me ; I was another man. 
 Every trace of fear, all trepidation, all inquietude, was gone. With 
 an undaunted mind, I looked my judges in the face, and asked for 
 one moment's speech before the putting of their purpose into execu- 
 tion. With some roughness, (for they were impatient,) they asked 
 me what I had to say, and I spoke with emphasis as follows : 
 
 " ' Sirs ! I am a travelling handicrafts-man, not accustomed to 
 being flogged ; and therefore my determination is, at the very first 
 stripe I receive, to cry guilty ! false as the word will be ; for I can 
 foresee, plainly enough, that once tied up to that grating, I shall find 
 no compassion, and have no other prospect but to perish in the pain- 
 fullest way. If, sirs, you have found, up to this moment, either 
 in my papers or in my words, the faintest trace of a justification 
 of your suspicions, I only pray you to have me shot at once. If 
 
THE TWO PASSPORTS. 109 
 
 you have found nothing of the kind, and want only to force me by 
 torture to confess myself what you choose to consider me, you will 
 attain your aim, it is true ; but you will have blackened an honest 
 man's name, and you will go to battle to-morrow, or the day after, 
 with innocent blood on your hands.' 
 
 " There was a pause ; and the officers looked upon me with a 
 grave and sad expression: for that time I was led back to my 
 prison unscourged. About an hour and a half had elapsed, when 
 the provost-marshal came to usher me once more into the presence 
 of my judges ; and on this occasion I was no more flanked, as be- 
 fore, by the dragoons, with their drawn sabres. For the last time 
 was the interrogatory addressed to me, whither I was on my way ; 
 and I answered, as before, to Dresden, by the nearest route, namely, 
 by Chemnitz and Friedberg. My passport was handed me, the 
 route duly marked upon it ; everything that had been taken from 
 me was returned ; and I was dismissed with the advice not to be 
 too ready another time to thrust myself in between two armies on 
 the point of engagement. A soldier was given me for escort, with 
 orders to conduct me to the distance of a league and a half behind 
 the Prussian lines : thence I was at liberty to pursue my way with- 
 out restraint. 
 
 " It was but a few days after my liberation, namely, the four- 
 teenth of October, 1806, that the battle of Jena, so disastrous to 
 the Prussian arms, was fought. 
 
 "And now, sirs, I ask you, are the concerns of men indeed 
 abandoned to the sport of a blind hap-hazard ? Consider it ; to my 
 very great annoyance, 1 had forgot to re-possess myself of my 
 second passport, which had been taken from me by my host, 
 at Neustadt-on-the-AiscK. But had this not taken place had I 
 been apprehended by the Prussians with two passports, varying in 
 their accounts of me or my person that power is not on earth 
 that could have saved me from the ignominious fate of the vilest of 
 traitors. 
 
 " I can only pity the sceptic, who will no doubt say it was a 
 mere chance that my passport was kept back from me. Never in 
 my life, besides, was my passport taken from me by an innkeeper ; 
 how little likely such a thing is to happen, they who have travelled 
 most will be best able to judge. And supposing your passport 
 were thus taken away, how much more unlikely still were it that 
 you should forget at parting to ask for it, or your host forget to 
 return it ! 
 
 " No ! I say again, with the proofs I have of a good Providence 
 ordering the affairs of men, I should merit to be reproached, by in 
 
ilO THE TWO PASSPORTS. 
 
 fidels themselves, as a soul incapable of gratitude, could I believe 
 my steps to be directed by no higher, no holier power than my own 
 poor prudence, or than blind chance. And so, gentlemen, that is my 
 story*; and I crave your pardon for troubling you with it ; but it 
 has turned out longer than I counted on." 
 
 While the Suabian spoke, the tailor had applied himself, as if 
 there had been nine of him, right manfully to the Rhine wine, and 
 was now hardly clear-headed enough to give a very edifying com- 
 ment on what he had heard. All that he could bring out was, that 
 he considered remarks on a man's profession illiberal and beneath 
 his notice ; and that if he could bring himself to think that all that 
 about the tailor the Suabian had spoken of was meant as a personal- 
 ity, he would The rest of the sentence was unfortunately lost 
 
 in the speaker's increasing thickness of articulation.' 
 
AUSTRALIA AND TAI BIEOTS LAND. 
 
 THE British Empire, extending through all the divisions of the 
 world, comprehends no region more adapted for colonization than 
 Australia. The shores of the Indian continent, rich in the most 
 costly products of the earth, are more attractive to the trader than 
 the emigrant ; the superb islands of the remote East, with their 
 camphor woods and precious metals, afford few plains for pasturage 
 and corn-growing ; while even the verdant karoos of Southern Af- 
 rica present a less favorable field for settlement than the soil of New 
 South Wales and Western Australia. Sixty years since, the whole 
 
 (ill) 
 
112 AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN's LAND. 
 
 region was a desert. Now and then an adventurous sailor navi- 
 gated the waters along its lonely shores, and disturbed the quietude 
 of its forest-bordered harbors. Little more than half a century has 
 established civilization on the north and the south, the east and the 
 west, of this the largest island in the world. Emigrant vessels and 
 merchant ships throng the seas between, steam-packets ply along 
 the coasts, shipping crowds the ports, omnibuses traverse the streets 
 of well-built towns, farms and villas multiply near the sea, and a 
 railway train is expected shortly to whirl through the passes of the 
 Blue Mountains. The exports of Great Britain are consumed 
 largely among the colonists, and Australia offers in return peace 
 and abundance to those who are willing to labor for these blessings. 
 In fine, the progress of the country, though occasionally inter- 
 rupted, exhibits altogether one of the most striking features in the 
 history of transmarine empire, and it may not be uninteresting to 
 the reader to trace with us briefly an outline of this gratifying 
 development. 
 
 While the Portuguese and the Spaniards, early in the sixteenth 
 century, were extending their enterprise through the seas of the 
 further East, rumors reached Europe of a new continent in the 
 south. The navigator, driven by contrary winds and currents 
 beyond the bounds of his ordinary enterprise, discovered different 
 points of land, which for a long period none endeavored to exam- 
 ine. The Spaniards had been navigating the Indian Archipelago 
 for more than eighty, and the Portuguese for nearly a hundred, 
 years before the name of any mariner became connected with the 
 discovery of Australia. The Unknown Southern Land (Terra 
 Australis Incognita), and the Southern Land of the Holy Spirit 
 (Australia del Spiritu Santo) , were indefinitely mentioned in their 
 records, yet no explorer ventured to approach the mysterious coasts 
 dimly seen by the chance voyager in those remote seas. 
 
 In 1605, however, the Dutch, eager to attain a maritime supe- 
 riority in those distant regions, equipped the yacht Duyfen, which 
 sailed from the port of Bantam, in Java, to explore the coast of 
 New Guinea. Returning from this expedition, the little vessel 
 entered the waters off the shores of Australia, and sailed into the 
 great Gulf of Carpentaria. To these early voyagers all seemed 
 desolate and barren, for, since the discovery of America, the voyage 
 of Vasco di Gama, and the exploration of the Indian Archipelago, 
 the navigator continually thirsted, for some new Chersonese, where 
 gold was to be found in every stream, where amber was washed up 
 on. the beach, where spices perfumed the forests, and pearls were 
 plentiful in the shallow waters near the shore. The wild aspect 
 
AUSTRALIA AND TAN DIEMEN's LAND. H3 
 
 of the Australian coasts consequently offered little temptation to 
 chem. Nevertheless, Spanish, Dutch, and English mariners con- 
 tinued to visit those seas Dampier, between 1684 and 1700, 
 exploring a portion of the north-western coast, and surveying it in 
 the rude manner of his time. Half a century of further research 
 added little to the world's knowledge of this great region ; but 
 1770 brought the advent of Captain Cook, whose immortal memory 
 is associated with so many seas and shores. He discovered the 
 eastern coast of Australia from Cape Howe to Cape York nam- 
 ing the region New South Wales. Many successive voyagers fol- 
 lowed, each of whom contributed some tracing to the seaboard of 
 this vast territory, until Captain Stokes, about eight years ago, 
 made the entire circuit of the island, and first enabled the biogra- 
 pher accurately to lay down the leading features of its mighty 
 outline. 
 
 While the daring navigators of Europe were exploring the shores 
 of Australia marking its outlying islands, endeavoring to dis- 
 cover the mouths of rivers, fixing the position of harbors, and lay- 
 ing down the general outline of the island inland discovery com- 
 menced much later, and made a slower progress. In the south, 
 ridges of hills were known to exist, and believed to be impassable. 
 Not lofty, but precipitous and rugged, they were intersected by 
 deep chasms and broad barren valleys, sprinkled with half-blasted 
 trees, and piled with masses of sandstone rock landscapes sub 
 lime in their melancholy desolation. The Blue Mountains so 
 named from their habitual aspect were long considered impassa- 
 ble ; but when the English colonists in New South Wales were 
 straitened for room, they looked for wider pastures for their flocks, 
 and more extensive lands for the cultivation of corn and vegeta- 
 bles. Necessity, then, opened a passage through the hills, the 
 Bathurst Plains were discovered, and a stage-coach rattled along a 
 well-made road, winding among the mountain-passes. In other 
 directions adventitious men, starting from different points, attempted 
 to explore the interior of Australia ; but as yet, all have been un- 
 successful in their endeavor to reach the centre, and he who trav- 
 elled farthest, at the utmost point of his journey has only cast his 
 eye over a monotonous desert, apparently of interminable extent. 
 
 Australia is situated in the immense ocean stretching to the 
 south-east of Asia, and lies in nearly the same latitude with the 
 Cape of Good Hope and Brazil. Equal in surface to four fifths of 
 the European continent, it extends from 113 5' to 153 16' east 
 longitude, and from 10 39' to 39 11' south latitude. The great- 
 est breadth, from Cape York to Wilson Promontory, north and 
 8 
 
114 AUSTRALIA AND VAN' DIEMEN*S LAND. 
 
 south, is 2000 miles, and the extreme length, from Shark's Bay to 
 Sandy Coast, west and east, about 2400. The area is calculated 
 at 3,000,000 square miles, and the coast-line at 7750. The whole 
 of this immense mass of land is solid and compact, broken by few 
 indentations of the ocean. The great Gulf of Carpentaria on the 
 north, and Spenser Gulf, in the Australian Bight, on the southern 
 side, are the only extensive sheets, though Shark's Bay and Her- 
 vey's Bay are also considerable. Numerous inlets, however 
 too small to be named as breaking the coast-line, but of noble 
 dimensions nevertheless afford easy approach to this otherwise 
 iron-bound island. 
 
 The mariner, for the first time approaching Australia on its 
 western coast, perceives few of those natural charms painted by so 
 many writers. Along these shores even now very rarely visited 
 there is little to allure the eye. A monotonous plain, bounded 
 in the distance by a chain of bleak hills, stretches from the sea, 
 and over the surface of this vast level are scattered sweeps of 
 ground blackened by the passage of flames. The few wandering 
 tribes leading a nomade life in this part of the island, frequently, 
 by accident or intentionally, kindle the tall dry grasses or the low 
 bush. The fire, seizing greedily on the parched vegetation, travels 
 with great rapidity, and, driven by the wind, spreads to the base of 
 the hills, where the conflagration spends its fury. Generally, in 
 one direction or another, the navigator may perceive the smoke or 
 flame of one of these prairie fires. As we proceed further north- 
 ward the shores become strewn with enormous masses of rock, 
 extending to some distance from the beach. It is supposed that 
 formerly the land here was considerably more elevated than at 
 present, and that the action of water has levelled it, leaving the 
 more durable masses unremoved. Some eminences, covered with 
 a vegetation richer than that of Brazil or Borneo, with occasional 
 fertile plains, present themselves in marked contrast with the gen- 
 eral aridity of this coast. 
 
 On the northern shores the same level prevails. Flinders sailed 
 175 leagues without seeing any hill higher than the mast of a 
 sloop. Irregular cliffs rise from the sea, broken by the embouchures 
 of several rivers, some of which the Adelaide, the Victoria, and 
 the Albert were discovered during the last surveying expedition 
 of Captain Stokes; but they have never been traced to their 
 sources. Along the Gulf of Capentaria few elevations occur ; but, 
 reaching the eastern coast, the view is no longer monotonous or 
 dreary. New scenes continually unfold themselves : forests, and 
 open plains, and valleys, running up between the hills, and a more 
 
115 
 
 numerous population enlivening the country. Passing between the 
 shore and that great barrier-reef which outlies the eastern coast of 
 New Holland for more than 600 miles, we enter the principal field 
 of British enterprise, where the coast is marked by a thousand fan- 
 tastic irregularities. A line of precipitous cliffs extends far towards 
 the south ; a huge breach in this natural wall becomes apparent ; 
 and, while the eye is resting on the grim magnificence of these 
 granite barriers, the vessel glides between the rocks, and reposes in 
 the superb harbor of Port Jackson. The shore, sweeping in gen- 
 tle slopes towards the hills, is covered with a natural growth of 
 verdure. The sea, blue and brilliant, flows into beautiful bays, 
 where vessels lie safe after their long voyage from Europe. White 
 stone-built villas, with graceful gardens and groves, lend artificial 
 charms to a landscape naturally picturesque; and Sydney, the 
 capital of New South Wales, with its forts and light-houses, its 
 churches, hospitals, and custom-houses, full of traffic, and smoking 
 in the heat of industry, appears like the creation of enchantment. 
 The industry of Europe, planted in Australia, now ploughs the sea 
 between Port Jackson and Moreton Bay with steamers, which pre- 
 pare the mind for the scene presented within ; but with this excep- 
 tion, the change from the outer view to the panorama of Sydney is 
 as that from a lifeless desert to an English seaport. 
 
 Still proceeding southward towards Cape Howe, the coast wears 
 a similar aspect, until, rounding the huge peak of Wilson Prom- 
 ontory, with its inaccessible islets lying around, we enter Bass' 
 Straits. Sailing along the fertile shores of Australia Felix, the 
 eye of the mariner rests with delight on the scenery for many hun- 
 dred miles. Towards the west the surface again becomes level ; 
 irregularities are few ; tali sloping cliffs commence ; anpl the coun- 
 try sinks into a plain covered with scrub, and extending as far as 
 the south-western point of the island. There rises a range of low 
 hills, continuing as far as Gautheaume Bay, where we reach again 
 the desolate level from whence our circuit commenced. 
 
 The general surface of Australia, so far as it has yet been 
 explored, is level. In New South Wales several ranges cover a 
 large portion of the province. Of these the principal are the 
 Warragong, or Australian Alps, in the region called " The Hap- 
 py," rising to the height of about 15,000 feet, and capped with 
 perpetual snow. The Blue Mountains, west of Sydney, attain an 
 elevation of 3000 feet; the Grampians, in Australia Felix, of 
 4500 ; and the Liverpool range, between Sydney and Moreton Bay, 
 of 6000. Other ridges, connecting these, complete a continuous 
 though tortuous chain more than 1000 miles in length. This 
 
116 AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN*S LAND. 
 
 chain runs from Portland Bay in Australia Felix, at a distance of 
 from 60 to 100 miles from the sea, as far as Moreton Bay, branch- 
 ing out into several inferior ridges. The western mountains never 
 rise to more than 3000 feet, and in no other division have any em- 
 inences deserving this name been discovered. The surface of Aus- 
 tralia, therefore, is more uniformly level than that of any other region 
 of equal extent. Its mountain-system also is altogether peculiar. In 
 the countries of the old world every range, however tortuous, agrees 
 in general direction with the length of the continent in which it 
 lies. In Australia the case is reversed the hills run transversely 
 from north to south. In the old world, also, the tendency of the 
 ridges, valleys, and rivers, is parallel ; but here 'we find a region 
 apparently struggling into form with all the elements of its ultimate 
 perfection loosely scattered over the surface. For example : south 
 of latitude 33 degrees, the valleys run along the base of the hill- 
 ranges, watered by streams which follow their direction throughout; 
 north of that latitude they cross from east to west, while in the 
 western provinces the land is divided into terraced plains like the 
 steppes of Tartary. Thus a theory formed by investigation in one 
 place, is destroyed by the examination of another. All the geo- 
 logical formations exist ; but they occur without order, and appear 
 subject to none of the laws laid down by science in the old world. 
 Again : if we turn to the animal and vegetable kingdoms, we 
 have black swans ; white eagles ; crabs of an ultra-marine color ; 
 those singular insects the walking leaves ; cherries growing with 
 their stones outside; trees which shed their bark instead of their 
 leaves ; quadrupeds with birds' bills ; and fish that are amphibious, 
 leaping over the ground by the aid of their strong spiny fins. 
 
 A curious and remarkable tree is frequently met with in Aus- 
 tralia, called the barrel tree. The trunk bulges out in the middle 
 like a barrel, so as to be sometimes three or four times as much in 
 diameter as it is at the ground, or at the point where the lower 
 branches spring out. They are small in proportion to their great 
 girth, and, indeed, the whole appearance of the tree is extremely 
 odd. Sir T. Mitchell saw specimens of the barrel tree often, and 
 expresses the opinion that the swelling of the trunk is the natural 
 characteristic of the tree, and not a lusus natures. 
 
 A very remarkable specimen was found by Mr. Kennedy, the 
 companion of Mr. Mitchell, in the apex of a basaltic peak, in a kind 
 of gap of the range of hills through which he passed. He made a 
 drawing of it on the spot. The accompanying cut will show the 
 general appearance of these curious trees. 
 
AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN's LAND. 
 
 117 
 
 Australia is consequently called the Land of Anomalies ; but if 
 we accept the theory of its recent growth, these phenomena become 
 intelligible. All its features indicate an origin dating not far back 
 in the history of creation. Its physical structure, as we have 
 shown, is incomplete and peculiar ; its indigenous vegetation is of 
 
 THE BARREL TREE. 
 
 the scantiest description ; in many parts its soil is raw and unpro- 
 ductive ; while its fauna belongs to the lowest orders in the animal 
 kingdom. All is rough and crude a mass of disordered elements 
 unmoulded into the beauty of perfect nature. In the river system 
 the same irregularity prevails ; no more than thirty-five mouths of 
 streams have been discovered along the whole of this immense 
 coast-line,, and of these none have been traced more than two 
 hundred, and few more than fifty, miles from the shore. They are 
 insufficient to the drainage of a tenth part of the island, a fact 
 which gave rise to the belief, not yet* altogether exploded, that far 
 
118 AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN's LAND. 
 
 inland a circular range of mountains existed, down whose inner 
 slopes numerous rivers poured their waters through the plains into 
 a great central sea. There is still, it is true, a vast blank around 
 the centre of Australia ; but travellers, as far as they have hitherto 
 explored, have failed to discover any indications of this lake. Na- 
 tives have reported the existence of a "great water," breaking in 
 waves higher than the mast of a ship ; but probably they had trav- 
 elled from some district near the coast, and confounded the South- 
 ern Ocean with the inland sea of which the wanderers were in 
 search. Violent inundations, however, certainly do occur, when 
 the springs in the mountains discharge volumes of water, convert- 
 ing small streams into torrents, and spreading the waters over whole 
 tracts of country. Deceived by these ephemeral floods, travellers 
 have brought home accounts of immense lakes extending beyond 
 the reach of sight, in places where the next explorer has found a 
 grassy plain, covered with the traces of a dried-up deluge. In 
 South Australia are several sheets of water, but few of them large 
 or permanent. The Salt Lake Torrens, discovered by Eyre, lies 
 at a distance of 400 miles from the sea, almost enclosing a circular 
 tract of land nearly 200 miles across; Lake Alexandria, which 
 receives the waters of the Murray River, is the most extensive of 
 the fresh-water basins ; while scattered along the banks of several 
 streams in South Australia, and Australia the Happy, are consid- 
 erable expanses of water, which do not in all cases bestow on the 
 land that fertility to be expected from such an abundance of irriga- 
 tion. In other countries rivers are the great fertilizers, and through- 
 out their course clothe their borders with verdure. In Australia, 
 only the higher lands thus watered are verdant, and the streams 
 spread themselves over a barren sandy waste, which they are pow- 
 erless to reclaim. 
 
 From the great range which shuts in Sydney on the west descend 
 numerous streams, which flow inland, and reach the plains through 
 rocky and tortuous channels. Those below the latitude of 33 de- 
 grees empty themselves for the most part into the Darling, which, 
 after a long and winding course, joins the Murray 200 miles from 
 the sea. Those above pour into the Lachlan, the Morumbidgee, 
 and the Hume also tributaries of the Murray a river which, 
 though its course is many hundred miles, bears no proportion to the 
 size of the region it waters. None of greater magnitude has been 
 discovered. The streams in South Australia and Western Aus- 
 tralia are in comparison insignificant ; but it is a received opinion 
 among many geographers, that great water-springs exist in the 
 island, which will ultimately burst from the earth, flow together, 
 
AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN's LAND. 119 
 
 form for themselves channels, and find outlets at various places 
 along the coast. Springs are formed by the accumulation of moist- 
 ure in the cavities and gullies of hills, and this process is at first 
 extremely slow. When overcharged, these reservoirs burst, and 
 emit their superfluous waters, at first by an occasional overflow, but 
 gradually in a continuous stream. The waters wear their own 
 channels, growing slowly from rivulets to rivers ; and in Australia 
 great numbers of these incipient, half-developed streams exist. At 
 present, in the river-system of Australia, as well as in its moun- 
 tains, valleys, and geological formations, its botany, and its zoology, 
 we discover a strong support of the. theory that this region is of 
 recent emergence from the ocean. Formerly, Captain Sturt be- 
 lieves .it consisted of an archipelago of islands. The bed of the 
 ocean, upheaved by the agency of subterranean fires, raised the 
 whole to a level ; and the action of the great sea sweeping over it, 
 has produced those strange appearances which have earned for Aus- 
 tralia its curious title The Land of Anomalies. The researches 
 of travellers in the interior will at no distant day lay it open to 
 examination ; and, when the great doubt is removed, science will 
 explain with accuracy phenomena at the present day so perplexing. 
 
 Over such a vast surface of the earth a variety of climates may 
 naturally be expected to prevail. Throughout Australia, however, 
 it is generally salubrious and genial to the European constitution. 
 The third part of the island the north lies in the torrid, the 
 rest in the temperate, zone. The former part is not yet sufficiently 
 known to allow an exact description of its salubrity ; but in the 
 extra-tropical divisions human life is endangered by a few natural 
 afflictions. Endemic diseases are all but unknown ; small-pox, 
 measles, and hooping-cough, scarcely ever appear ; but dysentery 
 is common, though all disorders yield to simple remedies. It may 
 be useful to state a point on which the best authorities agree, that 
 the settler in Western or Southern Australia may in all cases pre- 
 serve himself for the honors of a ripe old age by temperate pru- 
 dence ; for deaths from climateric diseases are exceedingly rare. 
 
 The plains of Tropical Australia are swept Joy the Indian mon- 
 soons blowing north-west about the beginning of November, and 
 south-east in the early part of April. Rains are there uncommon, 
 but the air is generally heavily charged with damp, and iron rusts 
 after a few hours' exposure. In the extra-tropical divisions a mild 
 drought often prevails. On the lowlands 65 degrees is the mean 
 temperature of the year, but the atmosphere rapidly changes to 
 cold as the surface rises ; while on the peaks of the mountains the 
 earth is .eternally clothed with snow. The order of the seasons 
 
120 AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN'S LAND. 
 
 presents a curious contrast to that of Europe; from March to 
 August is the winter ; the rainy season is in May ; while summer 
 lasts from September to February. In the interior the weather, 
 whether wet or dry, is always warm. One remarkable feature has 
 been observed, or we should rather say has been supposed, to exist 
 in the climate of Australia : at intervals of twelve years a period 
 of unmitigated drought prevails, and for twelve months the clouds 
 never send down their gentle showers to refresh and fertilize the 
 earth ; following this is a year of continual floods ; after this the 
 quantity of rain decreases, until another cycle has passed, and the 
 land is once more parched with excessive thirst. Dews are abun- 
 dant ; thunder-storms without rain last for several days ; and on the 
 northern coast a shock of earthquake is occasionally felt. 
 
 In all things wandering from the ordinary course of nature, 
 Australia is equally strange in her soil. In those interior deserts, 
 a few times traversed by the traveller, it is various ; in some places 
 a red tenacious clay ; in others, a dark, hazel-colored loam, rotten, 
 and full of holes; in others, but these few and limited, sandy. 
 When Sturt was exploring this dreary waste, he vainly looked for 
 evidence of a hilly country near. " Had we picked up a stone," 
 he says, "-as indicating the approach to dry land, I would have gone 
 on." But nothing of the sort was found; and the desert ever 
 widening to his weary view, he turned about and retreated. In the 
 sloping lands of New South Wales, however, and in the elevated 
 valleys of Australia Felix, a rich, dry vegetable soil prevails, abun- 
 dantly prolific. In the rest of the island, the soil, like the river- 
 system, is yet in the mould of nature ; and doubtless at some dis- 
 tant period every prairie throughout this magnificent region will 
 smile upon the immigrant, like those fertile " Plains of Promise " 
 discovered in the north by Captain Stokes. 
 
 Of the 70,000 or 80,000 species of plants described by botanists, 
 5710 are already known to exist in Australia. Of these only 270 
 are common to it and to other countries, while 5440 are altogether 
 peculiar to its extraordinary soil. Thus this island contributes to 
 botany nearly a twelfth of the plants known, but they are generally 
 of a very low order. Ferns, nettles, flowers, and grasses, having 
 the form, bulk, and habits of trees, are abundant ; hard timber, 
 with rosewood, sandal wood, and cedar, is plentiful ; some trees 
 yield the purest gums ; while the leaves of others are used as tea. 
 The sassafras and castor-oil have been discovered. On the northern 
 coast palms flourish abundantly, and the tropical mangrove exists in 
 those parts nearest the Indian islands. With one exception, all the 
 trees of Australia are evergreen. No dense woods have been found ; 
 
AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN'S LAND. 121 
 
 and the groves, from a peculiar arrangement of their foliage, pre- 
 sent a strange appearance many of the trees having their leaves 
 hanging with the edge downward. Flowering plants of excessive 
 beauty are found ; and the lily, tulip, and honeysuckle grow to the 
 size of large standard trees. There are many odoriferous shrubs, 
 which scent the air to a considerable distance. In the interior im- 
 mense numbers of prickly plants cover the ground, binding down 
 the loose soil, and preventing that drift which distinguishes the des- 
 erts of Arabia and Africa from the Australian wastes. 
 
 Large pastures form a prominent feature in the aspect of the 
 country ; yet a heavy English sward is seldom found. Flax, to- 
 bacco, a species of cotton, tares, indigo, chicory, trefoil, and burnet, 
 (an excellent substitute for tea,) are natural productions ; but of 
 fruits and vegetables fit for human food there is a strange scarcity. 
 The pith of a reed is the only indigenous substance with which 
 bread can be made, and the only known fruits are raspberries, cur- 
 ranis, one or two tasteless berries, and a species of nut. It appears 
 as if Australia had been selected for colonization, by the avidity of 
 civilized- man, before her soil was sufficient to his support ; and she 
 was called on to nourish the children of an overpeopled land ere her 
 breast was filled by the rich treasure of maternal maturity. Yet 
 industry may be said to have outrun nature, and completed in sixty 
 years the task which centuries would not have accomplished. Corn 
 crops and orchards abound in all the colonized districts. Every species 
 of grain, including maize, is cultivated with success : oranges, lemons, 
 citrons, nectarinea. apricots, peaches, plums, cherries, figs, mulberries, 
 quinces, bananas, guavas, pine apples, grapes, and many others, the 
 produce of Australian soil, are sold cheaply in the Australian mar- 
 kets ; and doubtless the luscious fruits of India will all shortly fol- 
 low. The sugar-cane probably would thrive in the lower latitudes, 
 but the .colonists prefer pastoral industry, for which, indeed, the 
 land affords much facility; though it is said that the keep of a 
 sheep upon the native grasses requires three times the extent of 
 ground which in a moderately fertile district in England would fat- 
 ten an ox in summer, and keep two sheep during winter. 
 
 The zoology of Australia, like every other department of its nat- 
 ural history, also presents extraordinary features. The number of 
 known species of mammalia is about one thousand. Fifty-eight are 
 found in Australia, of which forty-six are peculiar to it, leaving 
 twelve only which it contains in common with other regions. Even 
 of these, five are whales and four seals ; another is the strong-winged 
 bat of Madagascar ; another like the jerboa of America ; and the 
 last the dog an animal found always where man exists, and rare- 
 
122 AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN'S LAND. 
 
 ly, if ever, where he does not. Kangaroos, however, are almost the 
 only important animals. In the birds and reptiles similar peculiar- 
 ities exist, while of fish and insects no account has ever been com- 
 pleted. 
 
 The people who inhabit this extraordinary region belong to the 
 Ethiopic, which is the lowest family of the human race. Many 
 writers, with great ingenuity, have attempted to trace the original 
 colonization of Australia to a horde of Malays passing over in 
 canoes from the Indian Archipelago, across Torres' Straits, to the 
 unknown Southern Land. The color of the skin, however, the for- 
 mation of the skull and the limbs, with the genius, the habits, and 
 the general character of the Australians, identify them with the 
 negro race of New Guinea. The weapons they employ are similar, 
 and their progress in the industrial arts, as well as their mental 
 qualities and conditions of existence, being infinitely lower than 
 those of the Malay, and closely similar to those of the Papuan, 
 destroy the theory of their Malayan origin. Traditions they have 
 few, and those but faint and incoherent. It is probable, however, 
 that the wild savages of the Indian Archipelago, driven from their 
 original homes by the superior civilization of the Malays, put to sea 
 in rude canoes, and, reaching the mysterious Southern Land, de- 
 barked, and gradually peopled the wilderness. They left their own 
 rich islands to the conquering Malays, deserting a contested heri- 
 tage for one where security and peace made up for the loss of a soil 
 spontaneously productive. Liberty, even to the wild savage, is 
 sweet, and life more cherished still, so that doubtless, if Australia 
 was unpeopled at so late a period, the growth of the Malay empire 
 in the East scattered the swarms of Papua along its desert coast. 
 That an infusion of other blood has taken place is probable, but not 
 to such an extent as to have influenced the character of the popula- 
 tion. The old custom of circumcision is found at two places, at 
 opposite extremities of the island, and nowhere else. This appears 
 to us rather as a traditional custom, originally practised by the whole 
 race, whose size has dwindled to this narrow compass, than as a 
 grafted habit borrowed from the Mohammedan traders. Thus in 
 Bali, among the Indian islands, the burning of widows was until 
 recently an established custom. It was not, however, a practice 
 derived from accidental intercourse with the Hindoos, but the relic of 
 a mighty empire once held by that religion in the further East. 
 
 The Australian aborigines are divided into numerous tribes, with 
 distinct modes of life and various 'languages. The dialect of the 
 south is a strange tongue in the north, and the northern vocabu- 
 lary is wholly unknown in the east. The habits of the natives are 
 
AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN'S LAND. 123 
 
 unsociable: they seldom come into contact, except in war, each 
 tribe wandering at will through the solitudes, where they have 
 hitherto held an empire all their own. Their manner of existence 
 in some measure resembles that of the Californian savages dwel- 
 ling in huts of the most primitive construction, and existing on the 
 seeds of grass, and the pith of reeds, made into cakes. Those living 
 near the coast consume large quantities of fish, which they roast, 
 but have no idea of the effect of fire upon water. A shipwrecked 
 sailor, domiciled among a tribe of Australians, once obtained' the 
 reputation of a sorcerer by boiling a potful of water. They gash 
 their bodies with decorative scars, and strike out their front teeth, 
 in the spirit of vanity inherent in the most barbarous as well as the 
 most civilized people. An English trader once made a large profit 
 by selling in London a number of these teeth, beautifully large and 
 white, for the use of the dentists. 
 
 The color of the Australian's skin is lighter than that of the 
 African negro ; his form, unencumbered by clothing, is well pro- 
 portioned ; his hair, black as ebony, is twisted about the head in the 
 form of a hoop ; no whiskers or moustaches are worn, though a 
 scanty beard frequently drops from the chin ; the face is in almost 
 all cases ugly, even to repulsiveness ; the nose large and flat, the 
 mouth extravagantly distended, the ears long, the forehead retreat- 
 ing, and ttie chin highly protuberant. Nor is the character of the 
 Australian more alluring : to lie and to cheat are practices almost 
 universal not so much indicative of moral depravity, as illustra- 
 tive of the low condition in which these savages still remain. Among 
 some tribes treachery to Europeans ranks among the virtues, and 
 basely to assassinate a white man is considered heroic. We knew a 
 naval officer who was stabbed from back to breast by one of these 
 barbarians, who stole on him as he sat sketching on a bank in a 
 lonely spot. On another occasion, two Europeans, engaged in mak- 
 ing observations, were startled by a loud shout from above. Look- 
 ing up, they saw with horror the summit of a lofty bank swarming 
 with savages, who quivered their spears, and were evidently intent 
 on the strangers' death. The Englishmen, skilled in the character- 
 istics of the savage mind, immediately commenced dancing, capering 
 until they were ready to sink under exhaustion. Every time they 
 paused in their strange exercise, the savages lifted their spears 
 with threatening gestures; till at last, weary of the sport, they 
 quietly retired. 
 
 With some tribes, however, different ideas prevail, and shipwrecked 
 men, hungry and naked, have in the worst hour of their need learned 
 to bless the rude but honest hospitality of an Australian savage. 
 
124 AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN'S LAND. 
 
 Among themselves a crude social system exists. Ideas of property 
 are very distinct, and one man respects the roasted fish and fried 
 frogs of another with scrupulous integrity. Murders are rare, and, 
 when they occur, are punished. It is the opinion of certain philos- 
 ophers that these wild men will never be reclaimed, but will be 
 driven deeper into the wilderness as colonization proceeds, until 
 ultimately all will perish under the breath of civilization. It is 
 hard to accept this theory, though there is unfortunately much in 
 the history of modern times to lead to its adoption. We would 
 rather cling to the philosophy of the poet, T. K. Hervey, who 
 writes in the spirit of humanity, in language of the loftiest elo- 
 quence, for the wild man of the Australian desert 
 
 " Yet on his forehead sits the seal sublime 
 That marks him monarch of his lovely clime, 
 And in his torpid spirit lurk the seeds 
 Of manly virtues and of lofty deeds. 
 Within that breast where savage shadows roll 
 Philosophy discerns a noble soul, 
 That, like the lamp within an Eastern tomb, 
 But looks more sickly 'mid surrounding gloom. 
 Full many a feeling trembles through his frame, 
 For which he never knew or sought a name ; 
 And many a holy thought but half supprest 
 Still lurks 'mid all the tempest of his breast. 
 Pants not his heart with human hopes and fears, 
 And is h not the child of smiles and tears ? 
 'T is love that links him to his native woods, 
 And pride that tires him while he breasts the floods, 
 And glory guides him, felt but undefined, 
 To battle with the breakers and the wind, 
 To tempt the torrent, or in arms to claim 
 The savage splendors of a warrior's name. 
 True, through their souls all fiercer passions run 
 These fiery ones, these children of the sun. 
 But gentler thoughts redeem the frenzied mood ; 
 Eeprest, but quenchless, hid, but unsubdued. 
 Theirs is the spell of home, where'er they rove; 
 The maiden loves with all a maiden's love; 
 And the dark mother, as she rocks her boy, 
 Feels in her bosom all a mother's joy ! " 
 
 Where the human hsart is warm with these feelings, it is surely 
 susceptible of some refinement. An anecdote will show that the 
 mind of the Australian savage is not blunt to all the better passions 
 of humanity. A native, named Tonquin, dwelling on the banks of 
 the Swan Kiver, stabbed one of his comrades. The murderer fled 
 into the desert, remaining there for fifteen days alone with the 
 
AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN'S LAND. 125 
 
 memory of his crime. When he reappeared among the people of 
 his tribe he was a maniac heart-broken by remorse. 
 
 The Australians recognize a benignant god and a variety of evil 
 spirits., especially one in the form of a gigantic serpent. When the 
 winds groan over the hills and woods, they imagine it to be the voice 
 of this monster, and illuminate the plain with fires, repeating magic 
 spells to scare the evil one away. Notwithstanding this timidity, 
 they are brave in battle, though trembling in the presence of death. 
 A grave placed before the door of a house is a perpetual safeguard 
 against thieves. The dwelling of a lonely settler was once attacked 
 by the natives, of whom two were slain. Their bodies were buried 
 in front of the house, and the two low mounds, haunted with the 
 idea of death, were more formidable than the loftiest walls. Some 
 of the tribes enclose their dead in wrappings of leaves and bark, 
 placing them among the branches of solitary trees, near which the 
 vulture sits immovable, with drooping wings, waiting for the last 
 covering to drop from the corpse. Captain Stokes saw one woman 
 who continually bore, hanging from her neck, a net containing the 
 bones of a little child whom, during its short term, she had loved, and 
 over whose dear remains she lingered with tearful eyes, imagining, 
 in the warmth of her maternal fondness, that they rose before her 
 clothed again with the lineaments of life. The Australians regard 
 the white men as their former brethren, whose spirits, purified after 
 death, have passed into superior forms. At Perth, one of the col- 
 onists was twice visited by a strange native, who had heard that 
 there had come to his land a lost brother. The savage travelled 
 through a long extent of hostile country to behold again a cherished 
 friend blessed with the glory of a second life, who had left his para- 
 dise beyond the sea to revisit the scene of his earthly career.-' 
 
 Three ranks of society prevail among the aborigines : the. young 
 men, the warriors, and the aged the hierarchy of the Australian 
 commonwealth. Simplicity degenerate is their characteristic. Four 
 slender poles planted in the ground, and roofed with wattled boughs 
 form a palace for one of these lords of the creation ; and at night, 
 when the cold winds blow, the savage, burying himself neck deep 
 in the sand, warms himself literally in the bosom of mother earth. 
 
 What, however, is chiefly interesting to the English reader, is 
 the colonization of Australia. First in order of the settlements 
 is that of New Soutfi Wales. It was the earliest established, and 
 has risen to prosperity by more rapid degrees than any other. 
 From a miserable convict colony it has become a valuable depend- 
 ence on the British Empire, with a flourishing capital, and an 
 increasing trade. Sydney, with its churches, theatres, forts, hos- 
 
126 AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN'S LAND. 
 
 pitals, and other public structures its banks, hotels its parks 
 and promenades above all, its crowded port displays all the 
 features of a young and energetic civilization. Trade is developing 
 largely ; its population has become an important consumer of British 
 manufactures ; and its towns and rural districts offer a fine promise 
 of fortune to the industrious emigrant from the mother country. 
 But it is a saying no less expressive than true, that those who settle 
 in Australia must lay by their kid gloves, cast off dainty habits, 
 customs, forget their love of lounging, and look to themselves only 
 for the success they desire. No others will prosper in New South 
 Wales. The youthful colony needs no soft-handed Sybarites, whose 
 whole life is the realization of one idea comfojrt. The young, with 
 open prospects before them the disappointed, with a wreck of for- 
 tune and those who have accumulated a small store of wealth by 
 the industry of a life, do well to emigrate to Australia. The young 
 may look for opulence, others may retrieve their losses, and the old 
 may plant their vines and fig trees at once to shade their heads in 
 age, and to make a provision for their children. But none can suc- 
 ceed there, or in any other colony, who forgets these important rules 
 to depend on his own vigorous industry, to be frugal and spar^g 
 of expenditure, to be cautious in his speculations, and watchful when 
 he has entered into them. 
 
 Eighty years ago the adventurous voyager Captain Cook sailed 
 along the eastern coast of Australia, and there, in latitude 33 south, 
 discovered a commodious inlet. Near the water's edge he saw many 
 curious flowers blooming wild, and from them named the place Bot- 
 any Bay. The account of his visit was circulated in England ; and 
 when, sixteen years later, our unhappy war with America had closed 
 up the great outlet for crime, it was resolved to establish a colony 
 in some other part of the world. The African coast at first ap- 
 peared convenient ; but the idea was abandoned. Then the exist- 
 ence of Australia seems first to have been remembered in England, 
 and the idea suddenly flashed upon the public mind of carrying the 
 seeds of British population to people the " Unknown Southern 
 Land." Botany Bay was thought of. In 1787 the Sirius and the 
 Supply, with six transports and three store-ships, sailed with the 
 germs of a new colony on board. Besides the crews and one hun- 
 dred and sixty-six marines, there were seven hundred fifty-seven 
 convicts five hundred sixty-five men, and one- hundred ninety-two 
 women. Stores and provisions for two years were taken, besides 
 agricultural implements and tools, with all the necessaries for the 
 foundation of a permanent settlement. Captain Philip, the ap- 
 pointed governor, took command of the squadron, and sailed first to 
 
AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN'S I*AND. 127 
 
 the Cape of Good Hope, then belonging to the Dutch, where live- 
 stock and seeds were procured. At Rio Janeiro more stores were 
 taken in, and the expedition steered direct for the new land. 
 
 Continuing their course, they reached Australia after a voyage of 
 eight months and one week. On January 20th they anchored near 
 the antipodes of their native country in general good health. Bot- 
 any Bay appeared to promise little. Water seemed scarce, and an 
 aspect of aridity on the surrounding land decided them to go else- 
 where in search of a place of rest. The fleet, therefore, weighed 
 anchor, and, as they left the bay, two French ships under La Perouse 
 entered it. That enterprising discoverer stayed two months in this 
 haven, and then set sail for the Pacific, disappearing forever from 
 the sight of civilized man. 
 
 Drawing near an opening in the cliffs, a few miles further north, 
 the governor went to examine it in person. The natives collected 
 on the rocks, shouting to the strangers to go away ; but they perse- 
 vered. Captain Cook had reported the existence in this neighbor- 
 hood of a creek where boats could be sheltered. A sailor named 
 Jackson, however, declared that a great haven lay within the mighty 
 rocks that frowned above them ; and, entering between these, the 
 explorers were delighted to discover a harbor of many miles 
 .in extent. A fine anchoring ground was at once chosen, and the 
 name of the sailor bestowed on the harbor. This is one of the in- 
 stances in which the name of the original discoverer has remained 
 fixed to the scene of his discovery. 
 
 The spot chosen for debarkation was near a stream of fresh water 
 overshadowed by trees. Every man literally stepped from the boats 
 into a forest. They detached themselves into parties, and the pri- 
 meval silence of the shore was immediately broken by sounds which 
 have never since died away. Some shouldered the axe, and com- 
 menced clearing ground for the different encampments ; some pitched 
 the tents ; some brought from the ships the necessary stores, and 
 others examined the capabilities of the neighboring soil. Every one 
 wandered freely over the country, and wholesale disposals were 
 made of land which, fifty years later, was worth more than a thou- 
 sand guineas an acre. 
 
 The people were then collected together, and the governor's com- 
 mission was read, with letters-patent for establishing courts of jus- 
 tice. The ground was gradually cleared, a rude farm was prepared 
 to receive the live stock, and gardens were laid out for the planting 
 of seeds and roots. The Supply was then sent to Norfolk Island, 
 a thousand miles to the east, to form a settlement on a spot said to 
 be favorable to the cultivation of flax. Thus was planted the colony 
 
128 AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN'g LAND. 
 
 of New South Wales. Before tracing its growth, it may be desir- 
 able to describe the territory, and show upon what materials 
 English energies were then set to work. 
 
 From a point on the eastern coast, near the Tropic of Capricorn, 
 to Portland Bay, on the south, the coast-line of New South Wales 
 measures more than 1600 miles. It is broken by many safe and 
 spacious harbors the gateways, as it were, of a country diversified 
 in aspect, with a rich soil, abounding in coal and iron, andjntersected 
 by numerous streams. These flow from the ridge of mountains we 
 have already described, winding down the slopes, and traversing, 
 with a tortuous course, the maritime districts, and discharging them- 
 selves into the sea at intervals along the eastern coast. Few of 
 these are navigable, even for small craft ; but they serve to enrich 
 and adorn the high valleys through which they flow, covering the 
 earth with fertility. South of Sydney, as far as Bass' Straits, the 
 mountains encroach so nearly to the sea that the streams are mere tor- 
 rents ; but northward are several fine rivers the Hawkesbury, the 
 Apsley, the Brisbane, &c. Near Port Philip others have been 
 found ; but none of those which descend the eastern slopes of the 
 great range, and follow an independent course to the sea, are of 
 equal magnitude with those on the western side, which swell the 
 waters of the Murray. Two great channels, we have shown, receive 
 the tribute of all the hills from the Grampians to the Darling 
 Downs, yet hitherto they are little used for navigation. For the 
 formation of highways, however, and railways, the surface of New 
 South Wales is admirably adapted a fact which compensates in 
 some degree for its poverty of water communication, in all countries 
 the easiest and most obvious. 
 
 The climate is mild and proverbially salubrious. It is indeed 
 commonly compared with that of Southern Italy, but the remark 
 should be accepted with reserve. The atmosphere is drier, the ex- 
 tremes of temperature are greater, the average heat is less, and the 
 air becomes colder more rapidly as we ascend the hills. 
 
 The soil of New South Wales is capable of yielding every grain 
 and vegetable useful to man, with fruit in rich perfection, and in the 
 utmost profusion and variety, from the gooseberry and currant of 
 the north to the banana and pine-apple of the fervid tropics. Even 
 in the neighborhood of Sydney, apples, pears, plums, strawberries, 
 cherries, raspberries, mulberries, medlars, apricots, nectarines, figs, 
 grapes, melons, oranges, olives, lemons, citrons, loquots, and pome- 
 granates, are abundantly produced ; while in warm and sheltered 
 situations the luscious guava and banana grow intermingled. Peaches 
 never in England a very common fruit are abundant to excess 
 
AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN's LAND. 
 
 in New South Wales. During four months in the year they are 
 produced in incalculable profusion. The fruit grows everywhere in 
 all soils. A peach stone, planted no matter where, will in three or 
 four years become a fine productive tree. In such numbers are they 
 gathered, that vast piles are made, which are left to ferment in the 
 sun, and then thrown to the hogs, who fatten magnificently on this 
 dainty food. A pleasant and wholesome cider is made from the 
 peach. 
 
 Green peas are gathered in winter as well as in summer, and two 
 crops of potatoes are produced in the year in districts near the sea- 
 coast. As we approach the hills, the cold seasons become more 
 severe. Sharp white frosts are then of usual occurrence, and snow 
 lies eyen on the lower mountains. On well chosen soil the wheat 
 crops, with good cultivation, average from twenty to thirty bushels 
 an acre. In the colder district of Argyle forty bushels an acre are 
 often obtained. The small settlers at first, however, carried on so 
 improvident a system of husbandry, that fifteen bushels was the 
 average produce. The seed season for wheat, barley, and oats, is 
 from March to 'June, and harvest from November to December. 
 Maize, the most prolific of all grains, sown in October and Novem- 
 ber, ripens in March and June, producing, according to the quality 
 of the soil, from twenty to seventy bushels an acre. There are 
 thus two seed and two harvest seasons in New South Wales, and the 
 sickle and the drill are in continual employment. 
 
 The soil and climate are admirably adapted for the cultivation of 
 the vine, the olive, and the mulberry. Many vineyards and olive 
 plantations have been established, and flourish well, while extensive 
 fields of good tobacco alternate with the other species of cultivation. 
 It is considered probable that silk and dried fruits will shortly enter 
 into the exports of the colony, nor is it unreasonable to suppose that 
 the capabilities of the soil remain as yet incompletely developed. 
 Its richness is singular ; yet for the food of civilized man nature in 
 New South Wales has produced spontaneously nothing. Trees of 
 gigantic growth, flowers of brilliant hues, and wholesome pastures, 
 abound ; but the forests are not hung with fruits, the fields are not 
 covered with grain-bearing grasses, and edible roots in this division 
 of the island are unknown. Yet, as we have said, to the hardy 
 settler willing for a while to eat bread by the sweat of his brow, 
 and accumulate fortune by diligent industry, no country in the 
 world is more favorable for settlement. There is a fine contrast be- 
 tween the bleak desolations of the Blue Mountains and the fertility 
 of the lower provinces : the one wild and terrible ; the other pre- 
 senting a pleasant prospect of green and beautiful pastures, graced 
 9 
 
130 AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN's LAND. 
 
 by swarming flocks, with towns, and villages, and decorated villas, 
 with cultivated lands, and all the signs of a complete civilization. 
 Cattle thrive well in New South Wales, where the pastures are 
 sweet and wholesome, fattening the animals well, if not with un- 
 usual rapidity. The produce of grain and vegetables will always 
 supply the colony with cheap provisions ; but its chief commercial 
 wealth at present is in the pastures, where the millions of pounds 
 of wool are produced which now form so important an article of ex- 
 change for the manufactured fabrics of Great Britain. 
 
 This general sketch will afford an idea of the region first colo- 
 nized by the English in January, 1788. The early years of the set- 
 tlement were far from prosperous. Idleness, ignorance, crime, and 
 general demoralization prevailed. Some of the convicts were hanged, 
 others killed themselves by excess, and others fell under the knives 
 of their comrades. And, as usual, among a community for the most 
 part criminal, offences were rarely punished, because the offenders 
 could not be discovered. There is a strange fidelity among the 
 wicked. Men who would rob one another, steal a pittance of food, 
 and quarrel with one another until knives were drawn, refused to 
 betray a fellow-culprit. 
 
 The great difficulty in any colony is its support during the early 
 years of its existence. From the first, this object was steadily kept 
 in view by Governor Philip ; but the idleness and inaptitude of the 
 settlers who had not chosen the best field for farming operations 
 contributed to bring the community into danger of famine. Culti- 
 vation proceeded slowly and irregularly, the stores were wasted and 
 stolen, the provisions decreased, and scarcity threatened. After two 
 years' struggles the rations were reduced, and the colony languished 
 in despondency. While, however, the spirit of industry flagged, 
 and the land lay untilled in spite of the danger, an eager attention 
 was given to any rumor which seemed to promise wealth without 
 labor. The curse of many colonies has been a mine of gold, a grove 
 of spice trees, or a bank of costly pearls, for they allure men from 
 industry to spoil the earth of its natural treasures. An impostor 
 among the convicts knew the temper of his companions. With 
 a brass buckle and a guinea he manufactured specimens of the 
 precious ore, and, displaying them, endeavored to get clothes and 
 provisions from the stores as the reward of his discovery. But the 
 deceit was detected, and the impostor flogged for his fraud. The 
 miserable man afterwards ended his life on the scaffold. 
 
 A flagstaff was now erected at the entrance of Port Jackson, to 
 signal the arrival of anyship : as the provisions sunk, many an 
 anxious eye was turned upon the staff, desiring the expected sign. 
 
AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN'S LAND. 131 
 
 Alone, on that remote, inhospitable coast, they dreaded the horrors of 
 famine, though somewhat relieved by the supplies of fish brought in 
 three times a week, and distributed in equal rations to the whole 
 community. The governor made no exception in his own favor, 
 faring as the rest fared ; and when a party wa-s collected at the 
 government house, each guest was requested to bring a supply of 
 provisions for himself. In 1790, though the rations had been re- 
 duced by one half, there were only four months' supplies in the 
 colony, and some measures were necessary to check the approach of 
 famine. It was resolved to plant a settlement on Norfolk Island. 
 Two hundred and one convicts, men, women, and children, were sent 
 thither, and a vessel was despatched to Batavia for supplies. The 
 Sirius, bearing her criminal burthen to Norfolk Island, landed them, 
 and was immediately afterwards wrecked upon the coast. A lofty 
 hill was observed, whither at evening enormous nights of birds pro- 
 ceeded from the sea, where all day they collected food. Their eggs 
 were gathered in vast quantities, and when fires were kindled to 
 attract their notice, the birds came down in such numbers, that 2000 
 or 3000 were taken every night. From the circumstance of this 
 occurring at a time of great need, these birds were called the Birds 
 of Providence. 
 
 Meanwhile more convicts arrived at Port Jackson ; death struck 
 down numbers of the first comers; sickness prostrated nearly 
 500 at a time ; and a state of demoralization followed which ren- 
 dered the young colony of New South Wales a lazar-house of crime 
 and misery. Five men, endeavoring' to escape, put to sea in a boat, 
 steered for Otaheite, and were doubtless drowned in the abysses of 
 the Pacific. Many of the Irish started off, intending to travel 
 across the whole region, and reach China overland for only so far 
 had our knowledge of the country then proceeded. Probably they 
 were killed by the natives, though some of them may have become 
 domesticated among them, and, adopting their customs, sank into the 
 savage state. Next year ten ships arrived with upwards of 1000 
 convicts, and their coming imparted an air of life and activity to the 
 infant city of Sydney. Various public works and buildings were 
 commenced ; tanks were cut in the rocks to provide against dry 
 seasons ; and fresh land was got ready for the cultivation of Indian 
 corn. Some of the ships, after discharging their cargoes, were em- 
 ployed with considerable success in the whale fisheries ; while many 
 of the convicts were for good behavior released, on condition of re- 
 maining in the country to fulfil the terms of their sentence, while 
 those who had already passed their terms, and were willing to re- 
 main, received allotments of land. 
 
132 AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN'S LAND. 
 
 At the end of 1791, when the colony had been established four 
 years, the public live-stock consisted of one aged stallion, one mare, 
 two young stallions, two colts, sixteen cows, two calves, one ram, 
 fifty ewes, six lambs, one boar, fourteen sows, and twenty-two pigs. 
 The cultivated ground amounted to three hundred acres of maize, 
 forty of wheat, six of barley, one of oats, four- of vines, and eighty- 
 six of garden ground, besides seventeen under culture by the sol- 
 diers of the colonial corps. These were the humble beginnings of 
 that wealthy colony, to which, in the first half of the year 1850, 
 we exported more yards of cotton cloth than to the whole Austrian 
 empire. When we reach the present state of the province it will 
 be seen what advance has been made. 
 
 Six years after the foundation of the settlement, a church was 
 built of wood and thatch, costing 40, and employed during the 
 week as a school-house, where two hundred children were instructed 
 by the chaplain. Meanwhile the mortality increased, provisions ran 
 low, and famine again became imminent. All the while the utmost 
 discontent prevailed. Fifty-three persons were missing at one time, 
 all of whom had deserted in the delusive hope of reaching China 
 overland. Crimes and punishments multiplied, and the infancy of 
 the colony was passed in the most disheartening confusion. Drunk- 
 enness and gambling demoralized the community, the spirit of sloth 
 invaded it, and it became dependent on importations of corn. The' 
 live stock, however, increased. A few animals strayed, and some 
 years after there was discovered on the banks of the Nepean river 
 a herd of upwards of sixty cattle, wandering over pastures of fine 
 sweet grass, thinly scattered over with trees, and dotted with large 
 ponds. Upon the surface of these sheets of water, fringed with 
 beautiful shrubs, ducks and black swans swam to and fro. Perceiv- 
 ing the value of a wild breed of cattle near the settlement, the 
 governor arranged that no part of this fertile tract to this day 
 known as the Cow-Pastures should be allotted. In consequence 
 of this the animals multiplied so rapidly, that before 1813 the 
 60,000 acres were unequal to contain them. A severe drought fol- 
 lowing, they died by thousands ; and from that period the Pastures 
 were allotted, and the wild herds retreated to a greater distance from 
 the sea. 
 
 Captain Hunter, the second governor of the colony, was an ad- 
 venturous man. He explored the country, and enlarged the boun- 
 daries of the settlement. Several valuable discoveries were made 
 during his administration. In 1796, some men, fishing in a little bay 
 considerably to the north of Port Jackson, found, at a little distance 
 from the beach, quantities of coal scattered over the ground. Near 
 
AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN's LAND. 133 
 
 the spot a considerable river, now named the Hunter, discharges 
 itself into the sea. The valuable mineral was obtained in abun- 
 dance, and a township has now been established there, which supplies 
 the whole colony with this fuel. A large trade in lime, obtained from 
 immense quantities of oyster-shells thrown up on the beach, is car- 
 ried on at this place appropriately named Newcastle. 
 
 Through all its struggles Sydney continued to rise, and by slow 
 degrees free settlers from England arrived. Government provided 
 their passage, their tools and implements, allotments of land, pro- 
 visions for two years, and clothes for one. Soldiers and convicts 
 also turned farmers, and individual instances of prosperity encour- 
 aged the rest. One man, to whom Governor Philip had in 1792 
 granted a ewe for breeding, found himself in seven years proprietor 
 of 116 sheep, and on the high road to opulence. While some ap- 
 plied themselves to the rearing of flocks and herds, others pursued 
 agriculture, and many beautiful farms were established on the banks 
 of streams near the little town of Sydney. A gradual change 
 came over the face of the province. From a wild forest it became 
 a pastoral country, with houses, stacks, and sheds, fields well fenced, 
 and all the usual features of well-directed industry. In the last 
 year of the eighteenth century a great flood took place. From some 
 unknown cause, the river Hawkesbury swelled to an enormous vol- 
 ume ; and a settler, whose dwelling stood on a hill, near a beautiful 
 bend of the stream, saw at one moment, floating with the flood, no 
 less than thirty wheat-stacks, on some of which were numerous pigs 
 and poultry, vainly seeking refuge from the rising of the waters. 
 The consequences of this disaster were most calamitous. Wheat 
 rose to 30s. a bushel in a colony where it had at times been thrown 
 to the pigs, and Indian corn became equally scarce. 
 
 In course of time roads were made through different parts of the 
 colony; and, in 1813, when the settlers resolved to widen their ter- 
 ritory, a passage was found across the Blue Mountains. A drought 
 in the maritime plains and valleys compelled the colonists to seek 
 pasturage beyond ; and, driving their sheep and cattle through the 
 passes, they came down upon the plentiful plains of Bathurst. An 
 excellent road, 100 miles in length, now connects Sydney and the 
 town which soon sprang up in the new territory. 
 
 In Governor Bligh's time an insurrection upset the government, 
 which was with difficulty restored. A contest then broke out be- 
 tween two parties in the community the Exclusionists, who, in 
 the petty pride of honesty, refused to associate, even in the offices 
 of charity, with the tainted population ; and the Emancipists, who 
 considered that a convict, after his term of punishment expired, was 
 
134 " AUSTRALIA AND TAN DIEMEN's LAND. 
 
 as good as any other man. The first endeavored to stamp the crim- 
 inal with an ineffaceable brand of infamy ; the second, perhaps too 
 hurriedly, sought to produce a mingling of the convicted and uncon- 
 victed classes. The governor, Maquarrie, famous for his success in 
 road-making, exerted himself philanthropically to raise the convicts 
 from their degradation, and thus came into collision with the senti- 
 mentality of a few little-minded Exclusionists. During the twelve 
 years of his administration New South Wales increased in extent 
 and prosperity, while the boundaries of discovery were pushed 
 still further westward. Bathurst Plains, and the ways to them, 
 were discovered ; the district of Argyle was opened to the enter- 
 prise of the settlers ; two rivers, the Lachlan and the Maquarrie, 
 were traced beyond the Blue Mountains, until they were sup- 
 posed to flow into pathless swamps; while northwards the river 
 Hastings, with a large tract of pasture-land, called Liverpool Plains, 
 was discovered. A penal settlement for the punishment of refrac- 
 tory convicts was formed on the Emu Plains; another at Newcas- 
 tle, near the mouth of the Hunter ; and a third at Port Maquarrie, 
 at the mouth of the Hastings, about 180 miles north of Sydney. 
 When Maquarrie's administration began, the settlement was in a 
 state of imbecility, disabled by privation, the country impenetrable 
 beyond forty miles of Sydney, agriculture indifferently carried on, 
 commerce only beginning, and no revenue ; famine ever on the 
 threshold, factions continually alive, public buildings falling into 
 ruin, a few miserable roads commenced, a people depressed by pov- 
 erty, abased by crime, and utterly careless of religion. He left it 
 with brightening prospects, with an enlivening energy pervading the 
 community, and elevated hopes moving men to vigorous action. The 
 port-dues of Sydney had risen, from 1810 to 1822, from 8000 to 
 30,000 per annum. A population of 29,783, of whom 13,814 
 were convicts, now labored with energy for the public good. From 
 that period the struggles of the colony were less severe, and its 
 strength wqs greater. Accounts of its resources were circulated 
 throughout Great Britain ; men brought home fortunes, and those 
 who emigrated in poverty counted their acres and their flocks by 
 thousands. To trace the progress of the settlement to its present 
 condition, through every change of fortune, would be an interesting 
 task, but it would be incompatible with our limits. A glance at its 
 actual state, however, is necessary. 
 
 Among the twenty-one counties into which the territory of New 
 South Wales is divided, Cumberland is the most populous and im- 
 portant, though not the most fertile. The capital, Sydney, with the 
 prosperous towns of Paramatta, Windsor, Liverpool, and others, 
 
AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN's LAND. 135 
 
 give it preeminence. It consists of an undulating plain, stretching 
 From north to south 53 miles, and from the base of the Blue 
 Mountains to the coast, which is broken by many creeks and inlets, 
 of which the noble harbor of Port Jackson is the most remarkable. 
 Near the sea the soil is poor and unproductive, but inland the coun- 
 try improves, the woods thin, the valleys become verdant, and the 
 hills excessively fertile. The borders of the Hawkesbury and Ne- 
 pean rivers are covered with rich soil, spread over extensive flats, 
 finely cultivated. Good water is ' not plentiful, though by boring 
 wells this might in a great measure be remedied. There are 900,000 
 acres in the county, of which little more than a third is fit for prof- 
 itable cultivation. All the good land has been granted away ; but 
 a curious fact is, that the greatest abundance of water is found on 
 the most ungracious soils. 
 
 The next county southward is Camden, with 66 miles of coast- 
 line, and a breadth of 55. It is more mountainous than Cumber- 
 land, with lofty timber, alternating with tracts of great fertility. 
 Ulawara district contains 150,000 acres of fine deep soil, whose 
 rich qualities may be perpetually preserved by a manure of decayed 
 shells found upon the shore. The most delightful landscapes abound 
 in this favored region, wooded hills, and beautiful streams ; while 
 the Shoal Haven Kiver, navigable for ships of eighty or ninety tons, 
 bears its produce to the capital. The 60,000 acres of the Cow- 
 Pastures are now sheep-farms, well watered. There are no impor- 
 tant towns in this county. 
 
 Next to this is Argyle, a lofty, rugged district, well timbered, 
 but containing many broad, bare levels, like Goulbourn Plains, which 
 are twenty miles long, and ten wide. Two remarkable lakes 
 George and Bathurst exist here, supposed to be of recent forma- 
 tion. The natives, indeed, declare that they remember the period 
 when their beds were dry. Bathurst County lies inland, due west 
 of Cumberland, divided from it by the Blue Mountains ; it is 72 
 miles long by 68 wide, approaching in shape an irregular square. 
 Downs, like those of Sussex, extend along the banks of the Maquarrie 
 for more than 100 miles, and among them Bathurst Plains, con- 
 taining upwards of 50,000 acres of the most fertile land, with a 
 cool climate that reddens the cheeks of children. 
 
 North of Cumberland county is that of Northumberland, meas- 
 uring about 60 miles by 50. Its general appearance is undulating, 
 with high table-lands among the hills. Here are the coal-mines, 
 near one of the principal towns Newcastle with the productive 
 farms which dot the valley of the Hunter a stream navigable for 
 small craft 50 miles from the sea. Boats may ascend 200 miles, 
 
136 AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN's LAND. 
 
 but frequent and violent floods interrupt the navigation. The coal, 
 found in most parts of New South Wales, is most abundant here. 
 A company obtained a grant of the mines from government, and, in 
 1836, 12,646 tons were delivered at the pits' mouth, at 9s. a ton. 
 Steamers, introduced five years before, now ply so frequently along 
 that remote coast, that the demand has enormously increased. In 
 this Land of Anomalies the coal district is the most fertile, for not 
 even the rich vales of the Hawkesbury' or Nepean can vie with 
 the borders of the Hunter River. Maitland is the largest town, 
 and its market supplies Sydney with potatoes, tobacco, cheese, and 
 butter. The district is liable to one great evil namely, the fre- 
 quency of floods, which often rise forty or sixty feet, pouring 
 through the valley, and sweeping away all traces of cultivation. 
 
 Of the counties still imperfectly known, only partially colonized, 
 and almost completely undeveloped, there are Bligh, Brisbane, 
 Durham, Gloucester, Wellington, Philip, Hunter, Roxburgh, Cook, 
 Georgiana, Westmoreland, King, Murray, St. Vincent, Stanley, 
 and Maquarrie. Distributed among the whole are about forty-five 
 "chief towns," above which Sydney stands the mistress of them 
 all. 
 
 Port Jackson, with an entrance three-quarters of a mile wide, a 
 length of fifteen, and a breadth of three, would afford shelter to 
 fleets of the largest size. Around it spreads a panorama of varied 
 landscapes. Towards the sea are scattered picturesque islets; 
 northward rise long chains of rugged cliffs ; southward the wide 
 harbor of Botany Bay extends ; and westward the stately forest, 
 broken by occasional clearings, still reminds the spectator that he 
 is in a new country, fresh from nature, with ' all the features of 
 youth impressed upon it. 
 
 The city of Sydney covers a considerable space of ground. It 
 is laid out on a regular plan, with straight streets crossing at right 
 angles, and adorned with many large and some elegant buildings. 
 Quays, wharfs, and forts, government buildings, churches, hospitals, 
 hotels, custom-houses, newspaper offices, barracks, assembly-rooms, 
 post-offices, police offices, market-places, banks, insurance-offices, 
 chapels, theatres, and a cathedral, adorn streets lively with the rattle 
 of superb carriages, cabs, horsemen, and omnibuses. There is little 
 in Sydney to distinguish it from an English town, except the scenery 
 surrounding it, for scarcely a street is not called after some name 
 familiar in " the old country." The " Sydney Morning Herald," 
 the "Sydney Chronicle," the "Atlas," "Bell's Life in Sydney," 
 the "Daily Advertiser," the "Australian Journal," and the 
 " Sydney Guardian," exist to impress on the settler's mind, that 
 
AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN's LAND. 137 
 
 in leaving his mother-land he has not left the luxury of newspapers 
 and leading articles. 
 
 In the market-place of this flourishing city we find wheat at 4s. 
 the bushel of sixty pounds, and Indian corn at Is. 6d. ; potatoes 
 at 6 a ton ; beef at 2d. or 3d. a pound ; fresh butter Is., tea 2s., 
 jnoist sugar 3d., tobacco 9d., candles 4d., mutton l|d. or 2d., veal 
 4d., and bread, best quality, ld. a pound. All other articles of 
 consumption are in proportion. Fruit is excessively cheap. Most 
 of the neighboring counties contribute to supply Sydney with pro- 
 visions, consumed by a population of 60,000 persons. The most 
 expensive part of living is house-rent, for a moderate habitation, 
 unfurnished, can be hired for nothing less than 100 a year. The 
 number of houses in Sydney is about 7500 ; and in the whole col- 
 ony little more than 35,000. 
 
 Of the other towns in New South Wales, 'numerous as they are, 
 a detailed description cannot be afforded. They are all similar to 
 Sydney in plan and aspect, differing only in size and situation, 
 and the character of the public buildings. When we estimate their 
 number, consider the commerce which supports them, and glance 
 at their rapid growth in a region where, sixty years ago, there was 
 not a village standing, it is with excusable pride that we point to 
 New South Wales as an example of national energy. 
 
 Sixteen years ago the population of New South Wales was 
 77,096. In eight years it rose to 173,377, and is now more than 
 220,000, in the proportion of 60 women to 100 men. The ex- 
 ports average three millions, and the imports more than two millions 
 and a half a year ; while the revenue, now increasing at the rate 
 of 10,000 a quarter, has risen from 183,218, in 1836, to 288,- 
 044, in 1849. Sixteen million pounds of wool are annually pro- 
 duced in this colony, where, as we have shown, there existed, in 
 1791, 1 ram, 50 ewos, and 6 lambs. Contrasting with that ac- 
 count of live-stock, the following figures appear startling : 98,000 
 horses; 1,366,200 horned cattle; 6,530,000 sheep; and myriads 
 of pigs, the descendants of that solitary boar which, sixty years 
 ago, represented the species in New South Wales. Now, if the 
 reader recollects the account of the land then under culture, he will 
 hear without surprise that nearly 200,000 acres are now annually 
 cultivated, producing more than 3,000,000 bushels of grain, and 
 60,000 tons of potatoes, tobacco, and grasses for hay. It is nec- 
 essary thus to introduce a few figures in illustration of this interest- 
 ing subject. 
 
 Since 1840 no convict-ship has debarked its corrupting burthen 
 at the harbor of Sydney; and, since its emancipation from this 
 
138 
 
 curse, the colony has received the right of partial self-government, 
 returning its own representatives. Recently an amended constitu- 
 tion has been granted it, and, blessed with these advantages, we 
 may look to its continued progress among the most prosperous col- 
 onies in the world. Vessels continually leave our own shores 
 bound for this " land of plenty;" but we fear that many are dis- 
 appointed through the extravagance of their expectations. The 
 earth was given to man, that he should live on it by labor ; and 
 the slothful will find in New South Wales, as at home, that they 
 may wait long at their doors before sixpenny pieces will fall like 
 the manna from heaven. 
 
 The colony contiguous to New South Wales is South Australia. 
 It was originally projected in 1831, when a committee was formed 
 in London for establishing a chartered company to settle the coun- 
 try. The project failed ; but three years later another association 
 applied for an act of Parliament to erect South Australia into a 
 British province. Meetings were held, the preliminary arrange- 
 ments were carefully made, and a colony was established. Its ter- 
 ritory extends from the 122d to the 141st degree of east longitude, 
 and runs up northward as far as the 26th parallel of latitude. 
 There was for some time a discussion as to boundaries ; but the 
 governments of Adelaide and Sydney have amicably adjusted the 
 point, and marked a line to the distance of 123 miles from the 
 coast. The shore is wild, and broken by many bays, into which 
 the Southern Ocean rolls in tremendous breakers. In the waters 
 of Encounter Bay always white with foam a successful whale 
 fishery is carried on. The first settlement formed by the South 
 Australian Company was at Kingscote, in Kangaroo Island, off 
 the shores of Nepean Bay, at the mouth of St. Vincent's Gulf. A 
 town was laid out, and some houses built ; but the place was offi- 
 cially abandoned some years ago, though a pretty seaport town 
 remains, with a good harbor. Penetrating the gulf about seventy 
 miles, we reach Port Adelaide, and landing, proceed towards the 
 town. Villages, cottages, and farms, are scattered over the monot- 
 onous flats, and, after traversing the swamps near the sea, the emi- 
 grant finds himself on the Park Lands, rich and beautiful, where 
 Adelaide stands on the first elevated ground. Westward lie the 
 plains of Adelaide, with the sea running up St. Vincent's Gulf; 
 eastward a richly-wooded country extends down to the valley of the 
 Murray, beyond which spread forest and plains as far as the heights 
 of " Lofty Range." Lower down, and separated by the valley of 
 the Torrens from the upper town, stands South Adelaide on a flat 
 surface. It is large, and densely built, and forms the commercial 
 
139 
 
 division of the city, containing the government-house and other 
 public structures. Some handsome edifices have been erected ; and 
 Hindley Street and Rundle Street would do no discredit to a sec- 
 ond-class city in England. Churches, schools, banks, and other 
 buildings decorate the broad thoroughfares, and outside a prom- 
 enade, half a mile wide, runs round the city. Its inhabitants here 
 enjoy the mild evenings, and crowd upon it, like our own citizens 
 in the parks, with cheerful faces, doubtless sometimes contrasting 
 their position with that of those whom they have left behind to 
 struggle with extravagant competitors in the mother country. Lit- 
 tle more than twelve years have passed since the first wooden dwel- 
 ling was erected on the spot where now stands Adelaide, the capital 
 of South Australia. 
 
 The general resources of the colony are considerable. The 
 copper mines of Kaprunda are supposed to be immensely rich, and 
 other minerals have been discovered which may be expected to form 
 the materials of future prosperity. The climate is favorable to the 
 growth of fruit, even of the tropical kinds. The loquot, the guava, 
 the orange, and the banana, flourish well, but slowly ; while the 
 vine, the fig, and the pomegranate attain a suberb maturity, with 
 English fruits of every description. The climate of the plains is 
 altogether different from that of the hills; while the latter are 
 white with snow, the former are warmed by a glowing sun. On the 
 lowlands the forest-trees of Europe have a stunted growth, but in 
 elevated situations they thrive to perfection. Gooseberries and cur- 
 rants also bear only on the hills. Two extremes of climate pre- 
 vail in South Australia. In the early part of the year the rains 
 fall copiously, the whole land is brightly green, and vegetation 
 thrives in luxuriant richness ; later, the sun is intensely hot, the 
 earth is almost herbless, millions of grasshoppers swarm over the 
 ground, but the air, though hot and calm, is breathed without diffi- 
 culty. In August the thermometer ranges about 59, and rises 
 till January, when it is often 106^-, descending in July to 55 at 
 two P. M., the hottest hour of the day. This climate is exceedingly 
 salubrious ; even the most heated winds are light and agreeable. 
 It is of course subject to the ordinary maladies common to most 
 regions ; but there are no dangerous indigenous complaints, and it 
 is, in the opinion of a well-informed traveller, "one of the health- 
 iest countries in the world;" but it is important to remember 
 one fact, a universal knowledge of which might have kept death 
 out of many homes that the climate of South Australia and of 
 Sydney is fatal to persons of consumptive habits. As in New 
 
140 AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN's LAND. 
 
 South "Wales, the summer of Europe is winter here,- and the winter 
 summer. 
 
 The soil of this colony is not better than that of New South 
 Wales, and inferior to that of Van Piemen's Land, yet the crops 
 produced in it are finer than those of the other provinces. The 
 agriculturists of South Australia, less dependent on pasture, have 
 applied themselves more studiously to cultivation ; and- the most 
 magnificent specimen of wheat ever exhibited in our markets was 
 grown by them. The province contains an area of about 824,000 
 square miles, or in round numbers 207,000,000 acres. The settled 
 territory, however, occupies no more than 4000 miles, or 7,000,000 
 acres, and even in this a large portion of country, at present desert, 
 is included. About 500,000 acres have been purchased for cultiva- 
 tion, besides large tracts for sheep and cattle 'pastures. The rate of 
 Progress in the colony may be indicated by a few facts : In 1845, 
 8,848 acres of wheat were sown; in 1846, 26,135; while oats 
 increased 7000 acres. In one year 400 names were added to the 
 list of landed proprietors. The produce of the colony, therefore, 
 exceeds its capability of consumption, so that, while in 1839 
 the price of flour in South Australia was 120 a ton, it is now 
 about 12. The increase of stock was equally rapid: cattle and 
 sheep stations were established immediately after the formation of 
 the colony, and the wild nutritive herbage so abundant gave nourish- 
 ment in 1844 to 355,700 sheep ; in the next year to 480,669 ; and 
 now to about 1,200,000, with an increase of 200,000 annually. There 
 are in the colony also about 80,000 cattle imported principally from 
 New South Wdes, with 6000 horses, and about 25,000 pigs and 
 goats. x 
 
 Though not so rapid in its recent development as New South 
 Wales, South Australia prospered better during the early years of 
 its existence as an English colony. The encampment at Rapid Bay, 
 with the rude gardens at first laid out, was soon abandoned, though 
 some traces of them may still be seen, as well as some curious ovens 
 scooped in the banks by the first settlers. The situation was deserted 
 for the site of the present capital, planned on an extensive scale. 
 A thousand acres were surveyed seven hundred on the south, and 
 three hundre'd on the north of the river, and the streets, crossing at 
 right angles, are from one to two chains in width. No convicts 
 were ever allowed to be imported. All religious denominations were 
 encouraged by an equality of rights. The town lots were put at 
 2, 10s. an acre, the country at 1 half the money thus raised 
 being added to the colonial fund, and half applied to bring out 
 laborers and mechanics. The value of the town land has risen to 
 
AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN*S LAND. 141 
 
 1000 an acre. After the first, new settlers continually arrived ; 
 flocks of sheep and herds of cattle were brought from Van Diemen'g 
 Land, and every artisan skilled in house-building was engaged at 
 wa^es varying from seven to ten guineas a week. Men earned much 
 money ; but uneducated poverty, suddenly prosperous, is apt to run 
 into excess ; and sawyers and splitters, earning in two days enough to 
 riot on all the rest of the week, drank rum and beer until an empty 
 pocket induced them to resume work. Bullock-drivers, and others 
 of their class, became dainty, and drank only claret and champagne ; 
 while many, who in their own country wanted the necessaries of 
 life, staked 50 on the toss of a halfpenny. The sale of liquor was 
 a prosperous trade. One publican made 10,000 in three years. 
 While this factitious prosperity endured, hardy Bushmen from New 
 South Wales came down to Adelaide with their flocks and herds to 
 sell, cows at 40 each, bullocks 100 a pair, meat at 2s. a pound, 
 bread at half-a-crown the four pound loaf, flour at 120, and pota- 
 toes at 30 a ton. Thus things stood for some time in 1839. All 
 was done on a large scale. Surveyors marked the land in a circle 
 of twenty-five miles into lots, which were bought by speculators, 
 who drew clever plans, marked Islington, Kensington, Brighton, 
 Paynham, and Walkerville, and advertised them as town lots. A 
 mania followed. People ran deeply into speculation, money flowed 
 like water, and excitement rose to a spring tide of excess. As 
 usual, panic trod on the heels of this pernicious fever, and in 1840 
 hundreds of laborers crowded the streets of Adelaide, begging for 
 employment at the lowest rate of wages. The colony became in- 
 volved in debt, and when Governor Grey arrived in, 1841, all credit 
 was destroyed, and ruin hung over the settlers. The government 
 expenditure had risen to 180,000. In two years an honest ad- 
 ministration reduced it to 30,000, though a loan was effected from 
 New South Wales, and public works were commenced to prevent 
 the poor from starving. 
 
 Farming operations had not been * vigorously commenced ; but 
 now, when the mania was over, and wholesome industry revived, 
 families settled in the bush, lands were bought, cleared, and fenced, 
 put under cultivation, and covered with magnificent crops. Hedge- 
 rows lined the roads, cottages dotted the fields, stacks and ricks 
 sprung up, reapers and sowers multiplied, the plough went through 
 the furrow, and before the end of twelve months provisions became 
 abundant. In two years more the colony, with brightening pros- 
 pects, took rank with the other Australian settlements. 
 
 The seaport lies several miles from the town, and is connected 
 with it by a good macadamized road, traversed every hour by pas- 
 
142 AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN'S LAND. 
 
 senger cars (fares, sixpence). A spacious basin, lined with wharfs, 
 receives the shipping ; and along the highway teams of oxen are 
 continually moving, carrying British manufactures to the town, or 
 Australian produce to the port. There are several good inns on the 
 roadside, with ruddy-faced bar-maids everything, indeed, familiar 
 to the English eye, except the landscape and the people ; for the 
 newly-arrived emigrant would never recognize in the stalwart fel- 
 lows, well mounted and clothed, who ride to and fro over their own 
 farms, the thin and sickly creatures who would at home have broken 
 stones in the yard of a workhouse. 
 
 Round Adelaide lie three principal divisions of the colony : the 
 north, or sheep, cattle, and great mineral district ; the east, famed 
 for agriculture and pasture ; and the south, combining cultivation, 
 rearing of cattle and sheep, fishing and mining. A vast quantity of 
 level land, covered with crops of rich grass, and unencumbered with 
 trees, affords the finest pasture. In 1843 lead and copper were 
 discovered, and now gold is also known to exist in many parts of 
 the colony. The discovery of these treasures, instead of producing 
 its legitimate effect, caused another mania. A prospect of scarcity 
 hung over the colony. A noble harvest was ready to bend before 
 the sickle, but the community was mad with the rage for mining, 
 while the winter threatened to close in and cut off the promise of 
 land. Enormous sums were offered for reapers. " Gentlemen and 
 ladies sallied forth with sickles, even with scissors," to save the har- 
 vest, and the military and police were called out. They marched in 
 battalions, and attacked the standing corn ; great exertions were 
 made ; many granaries were filled ; but over hundreds of acres of 
 the ripe grain fell and rotted to the earth. But this fever was of 
 brief duration, and we now witness in South Australia the spectacle 
 of an industrious community of settlers with a profitable division of 
 labor some at the mines, some in the fields, some in the pastures, 
 engaged in developing to their own advantage the resources of a 
 wealthy soil. The population within the last ten years has risen 
 from 10,115 to 38,666 or 286 per cent. An increasing com- 
 merce is carried on with the mother country, which in the first six 
 months of 1850 exported to its young offspring as many yards of 
 cotton cloth as to the whole of Denmark. 
 
 Western Australia, at the Swan river settlement, is another 
 English colony. It is situated on the. western coast, nearly opposite 
 New South Wales, and 36 degrees of longitude to the westward of 
 it. The place was discovered in 1697 by the Dutchman Vlaming, 
 who named it from the black swans found floating on the stream. 
 
AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN's LAND. 143 
 
 The first settlement took place in 1830, in somewhat an unusual 
 manner. A few private individuals, in consideration of immense 
 grants of land, undertook to colonize the province, on condition of 
 restoring the grants if their engagements were not fulfilled within 
 a given time. Great difficulty was at first experienced, but Western 
 Australia, like her sister colonies on the same mighty island, has 
 struggled through her difficulties, and promises soon to prosper well. 
 Beyond a line of barren country bordering the sea the land is very 
 fertile. In the neighborhood of the principal settlements, Perth 
 and Freemantle, it is hilly and bare ; but most of the poor soil is 
 capable of improvement, and admirably adapted to the cultivation 
 of the grape. There is a vine in the government garden at Perth, 
 which, planted as a cutting, sent forth shoots sixteen and one half 
 feet long in the second year, and yielded more than four hundred 
 weight of fruit. The climate of this productive region is salubri- 
 ous and pleasant, though not, as some writers assert, superior to that 
 of the other colonies. The rains are more abundant and regular ; 
 but while this fertilizes the soil, it does not favorably or otherwise 
 affect the atmosphere. The waters on the coast swarm with fish, 
 and whales gambol in shoals a few miles from the shore. Oil is 
 therefore a principal article of export, and the enterprising Ameri- 
 cans have sometimes engaged as many as three hundred ships along 
 these distant shores. 
 
 Freemantle is a port town at the mouth of the Swan river. Two 
 miles up is Perth, the capital, and, seven miles further, Guildford, 
 where the rich corn lands commence. There are several other set- 
 tlements, all in steady and vigorous, if not rapid, growth. 
 
 In 1838 two British vessels sailed to colonize Port Essington, on 
 the northern coast, where one or two attempts had already been 
 made without success. The situation of the new settlement is at 
 the utmost point of North Australia. There was found, to the 
 astonishment of our countrymen, a community of Australian Chris- 
 tians, with churches of their own, which had already elementary 
 instruction in the arts of civilization. To the Dutch belongs the 
 praise of thus planting, at this remote point, what may be the seeds 
 of a great change in the condition of the native people. "We have 
 now a settlement there which, like the others, thrives with consider- 
 able success. There is a splendid harbor, capable of sheltering the 
 largest fleet. The soil of the territory by some described as very 
 poor is in reality very productive. Industrious settlers could 
 cultivate with much success crops of rice, cotton, and indigo, of th 
 finest quality: but there is one drawback the climate. This, 
 
144 AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN'S LAND. 
 
 though not in itself unhealthy, is unsuited to the European consti- 
 tution ; though it is believed that when the seasons, atmospheric 
 changes, and other peculiarities of the place are thoroughly under- 
 stood, temperance will destroy the virulence of the ground fever. 
 Abundance of fresh water exists, and already, from the little begin- 
 nings described, this settlement develops towards prosperity. 
 
 Among the continental nations it is believed to have been estab- 
 lished with purely political views. The French especially describe 
 it as the opening of a port to the south of the Indian Archipelago, 
 near the Dutch possessions, to counteract the influence of Holland 
 in those seas. However this may be, it is certain that the Malay 
 trade is expected to be attracted thither, and that already many a 
 fleet of Indian prahus, laden with tea, sugar, salt fish, and other 
 commodities, come to bargain for British cottons. As at our new 
 settlement of Labuan, many opportunities of profit occur at Port 
 Essington without effect, from the absence of European merchants 
 to take advantage of them. At either place an enterprising trader, 
 with 2000 or 3000 at his command, could speedily realize a for- 
 tune by trading with the Malays. From an early date the rude 
 vessels of the Indian islanders have visited this coast in search of 
 seaslugs for the Chinese market. They would gladly collect for Port 
 Essington the costly products of their islands, and barter them for 
 cottons and utensils of rude earthenware. An account of their an- 
 cient traffic carried on between the Indian islands and the northern 
 coast of Australia would afford a most original picture of human 
 industry, but we are compelled to forego it, and pass to the conclud- 
 ing portion of our subject. 
 
 Outlying the southern coast of Australia, as Ceylon outlies the 
 Indian continent, Van Diemen's Land appears, separated from the 
 mainland by a broad channel, known as Bass' Straits. Numerous 
 islands are sprinkled over these mid-lying waters some inhabited, 
 others so surrounded by reefs, and so beaten by surges in eternal 
 commotion, that they are unapproachable. The most northern point 
 of Van Diemen's Land is about 120 miles distant from the most 
 southern point of Australia. The country is equal in size to Ireland, 
 more mountainous than the great neighboring region, more full of 
 variety, and graced with more charms of scenery. The hills, vary- 
 ing in elevation from 4000 to 5000 feet, do not run in unbroken 
 ranges, but are crossed by fine valleys, watered by many beautiful 
 streams. Limestone abounds, and iron and coal will probably be 
 discovered in large quantities. Where cultivation has commenced, 
 the soil is found to be partly a rich vegetable mould, partly mixed 
 
AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN'S LAND. 145 
 
 with sand and flint, but almost everywhere fertile. The coast is 
 diversified here projecting in promontories, there retiring into 
 bays, with many commodious harbors, and the mouths of some con- 
 siderable streams. The Derwent, on. whose border stands Hobart 
 Town, on the south of the island, is a broad, deep, salt water stream, 
 free from rock or shoal, and navigable for vessels of heavy burthen. 
 On the north, the Tamar pours into Bass' Straits, with Launceston 
 near its mouth a convenient port, though obstructed by a bar. 
 These two towns, the twin capitals of the colony, are situated in the 
 midst of beautiful scenery the one under the shelter of Mount 
 Wellington, the other in the midst of a gently undulating country, 
 varied with woods and pasture lands. Their progress has not been 
 regular, the southern outstripping the northern city in commerce 
 and industry, though Launceston now promises to attract consider- 
 able trade to the Tamar river. 
 
 From the date of Tasman's visit to Yan Diemen's Land (1642), 
 no European vessel sailed thither during 130 years. In 1773, Fur- 
 neaux, one of Cook's captains, coasted along the eastern shores, and 
 entered Bass' Straits, to ascertain whether the territory was an 
 island or a part of Australia Proper. Stormy weather drove him 
 back, and the discovery was left to Bass. In 1777 the great navi- 
 gator himself visited these shores, and carried on some intercourse 
 with the natives. Years later, La Perouse is supposed to have come 
 hither, and the expedition sent out in search of him explored the 
 coast in quest of some memorial that might throw light on the fate 
 of the unfortunate navigator. In 1797 Bass' Straits were first nav- 
 igated ; and Flinders, who accompanied the discovery of the pas- 
 sage, circulated in the new colony at Port Jackson the idea of 
 forming a settlement on Van Diemen's Land. The plan was neg- 
 lected until 1803. The French then evinced an inclination to secure 
 the prize, and, to forestall them, a small party of soldiers and con- 
 victs was lodged on the island. A site was chosen near Hobart Town. 
 The usual preliminaries were gone through, but unhappily the Eu- 
 ropeans and the natives quarrelled. Blood was shed and an ill-will 
 was established which has only lately ceased to rankle in the breasts 
 of the aborigines. 
 
 The early years of the colony were passed in the ordinary manner. 
 Many difficulties arose, and several conflicts took place with the 
 natives ; but the settlers were hardy, their number increased, the 
 goil was fertile, and the colony prospered well. A legislative coun- 
 cil managed the public affairs, and by 1831 the excess of revenue 
 over the expenditure was 20,000 ; a fair standard of the condition 
 of the colony. Next year, at a large meeting, it was determined to 
 10 
 
146 AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN'S LAND. 
 
 petition both houses of Parliament for a representative assembly ; 
 a privilege which was not granted for some time. Colonial policy 
 forms one of the most difficult and important of the statesman's 
 studies ; and it is only of late years, with the experience of great 
 misfortunes before our eyes, that we have commenced acting on the 
 principles whose universal acceptance can alone render our distant 
 possessions the permanent sources of prosperity. 
 
 Van Diemen's Land has been a great convict colony. In 1832 
 there were 11,040 male criminals on the island. Of these 921 were 
 undergoing severe punishment for offences committed after sentence. 
 Two hundred and forty were^t the penal settlement of Port Arthur, 
 on a barren peninsula, connected with the main by a narrow neck 
 of land. Across this runs a line of posts guarded by savage dogs 
 and some soldiers, to prevent the escape of the culprits. Neverthe- 
 less some do evade even the vigilance of the brute watchers ; and 
 we have heard of several men, who, clothing themselves in the skins of 
 kangaroos, and imitating the motions of the animal, thus contrived 
 to escape. 
 
 For a long period the abundance of convict labor was an evil, 
 especially as men were draughted into the farms on tickets of leave, 
 to perform tasks for which they were utterly unfit. A free settler 
 once received the allotment of a convict set down as a ploughman. 
 " Can you plough ? " he inquired. " No." The man was a weaver, 
 but his master employed him to drive a cart. The first day he 
 broke the vehicle to pieces ; the next, intrusted with another, he 
 snapped the pole ; and the third lost it in a swamp. He was then 
 directed to cut down a large tree overshadowing a barn, and per- 
 formed the office with vigor, letting the huge tree fall directly 
 across the building, which it crushed to total ruin ! But where 
 willingness accompanies this ignorance, the case is not so bad. In 
 some instances, however, the convicts refused to work at any other 
 but their proper vocation ; and one weaver, who was ordered to root 
 up trees, hewed off his arm .with an axe rather than comply. As 
 kousehold servants, they answered better, though, with such recom- 
 mendations to character, the colonists could little be expected to 
 trust their servitors. One gentleman wrote home "Even in our 
 small menage our cook has committed murder, our footman burglary, 
 and the housemaid bigamy ! " It is only fair to qualify this extract 
 by quoting a remarkable passage which follows : "It is strange 
 to -be in a country of thieves at all, but still stranger to be there 
 without any fear of having your pocket picked. Such is the admir* 
 able arrangement of the present government." 
 
 From various causes there was a few years ago a vast superabun- 
 
147 
 
 dance of labor in Van Diemen's Land. The consequences were 
 very disastrous, but an influx of capital now promises to remedy 
 these evils. The resources of the island are varied and extensive, 
 and it will be long before its population increases to an extent com- 
 mensurate with its natural capabilities. A change also is dawning 
 over the spirit of our colonial policy, which cannot be without effect 
 on the welfare of our Tasmanian settlements. All, indeed, that 
 they require is the energy of man prudently directed ; for nature 
 has done her part to perfection. The island being nearly the antip- 
 odes of our own country, the seasons are almost exactly the reverse 
 of ours. The cold is, however, more extreme, both from the vicin- 
 ity of the southern pole, and the fact, that no land lies between the 
 southern coast of the island and the masses of eternal ice that load 
 the sea a few degrees beyond. A clear and brilliant atmosphere, 
 dry, pure, and elastic, almost invariably prevails, though occasion- 
 ally the weather is fitful, and changes from heat to cold within the 
 revolution of a day. In the western districts much rain falls, on 
 the northern less, on the eastern still less, and on the southern least 
 of all not averaging more than fifty or sixty wet days in the year. 
 September, October, and November are the spring months ; Decem- 
 ber, January, and February correspond with our June, July, and 
 August ; March, April, and May form the autumnal, the most 
 agreeable season ; and during our hot season, frost, snow, and rain 
 prevail in Van Diemen's Land. The shortest day (21st of June) 
 is eight hours and forty-eight minutes, or one hour and four minutes 
 longer than the shortest day in England (21st December) ; but the 
 longest day in England is an hour and twenty-two minutes longer 
 than with them. The climate, even now in the uncultivated condi- 
 tion of the country, is remarkably salubrious. In comparison even 
 with the healthiest parts of Europe it is unusually genial, and its 
 salubrity will in all likelihood increase as colonization spreads over 
 the unexplored districts of the island. Fever and dysentery some- 
 times prevail ; hooping-cough was introduced among the female con- 
 victs, but though it attacked all the population, not one fatal case 
 occurred ; and influenza, common at times, never becomes dangerous. 
 The only affliction most severely felt is insanity ; but it has been 
 well remarked by a writer on the subject, that this can be traced to 
 the excessive use of ardent spirits. During a long* period .the 
 amount consumed in Van Diemen's Land was at the rate of five 
 gallons a year to each individual, including women and children. 
 
 The island is divided into two counties and fifteen districts. The 
 fertile lands are distributed over the whole, in alternation with rug- 
 ged mountains and dense woods. Numerous streams, bordered with 
 
14:8 AUSTRALIA AND VAN PIEMEN'S LAND. 
 
 rich land, intersect its surface, fed from perpetual springs, as well 
 as by the snows which, during many months in the year, crown the 
 loftier peaks. Hobart-Town district is the most important, but, like 
 that of Sydney, not as the most fertile and extensive, but as con- 
 taining the metropolis of the island. It contains about 250,000 
 acres, and the cultivated soil yielded in 1829 an average return of 
 fifteen bushels of wheat, twenty of barley, twenty-five of oats, 
 twenty of peas, twenty of beans, three tons and a half of potatoes, 
 or seven tons of turnips an acre. Since then its productiveness has 
 greatly increased. The produce of wheat is nearly thirty bushela 
 an acre, and of other grain in similar proportion an example of 
 the effect of careful husbandry. A brisk trade is carried on at 
 Hobart-Town, where a motley population is now continually on the 
 increase. Between 1839 and 1847 it rose from 44,121 to 70,164, 
 or 59 per cent. Scots with Highland kilts and claymores, Irish 
 peasants with blue jackets and trousers, Frenchmen, Germans, 
 Americans, Chinese, Malays, Lascars, black aborigines, Africans, 
 and elegantly tattgoed New Zealanders, jostle in the streets, 
 and crowd about the stores. At these depots are sold all imagin- 
 able articles of use, to which public attention is attracted by 
 advertisements in the local paper. A specimen of these may be 
 amusing : "At the store of the undersigned For sale Cart- 
 harness and cayenne pepper, drill trousers, crockery ware, one lady's 
 side-saddle, one very strong dray, gold and white cambric, four cir- 
 cular saws, ladies' stays, starch, blue and soap, Leghorn hats, shot, 
 mustard, pattens, black stuff and bombazines, nails and iron pots." 
 Prices in Hobart-Town are not remarkably low. 
 
 The produce of the soil is varied. Of timber fit for shipwrights, 
 builders, and cabinet-makers, there are gum, stringy bark, white 
 and yellow thorn pine, and sassafras ; black and silver wattle, dark 
 and pale lightwood, pencil cedar, Adventure-Bay pine (a peculiar 
 species), cotton tree, musk, silver wood, myrtle, forest and swamp 
 oak, plum tree, yellow wood, lignum vitae, red and white honey- 
 suckle, peppermint wood, pink wood, and cherry tree. No native 
 trees bearing edible fruit have been found. The peppermint tree 
 affords an oil efficacious in cholera ; a kind of grape that grows near 
 Maquarrie Harbor, on the west, yields a juice equal to that of the 
 lime for scurvy ; the leaves of the tea plant are not much inferior 
 to those of China ; and the bark of the wattle is useful for tanning. 
 European fruits, however, supply the absence of any indigenous 
 species. The grape, the apple, the peach, the cherry, the apricot, 
 the nectarine, the green gage, the pear, the raspberry, the mulberry, 
 the gooseberry, the currant, the strawberry, the quince, the walnut, 
 
AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN'S LAND. 149 
 
 the chestnut, thrive well, some requiring care, others none. Many 
 beautiful flowers, finely scented, have been discovered, and many 
 others have been introduced. 
 
 All kinds of grain cultivated in these islands will flourish in Van 
 Diemen's Land. Potatoes of the first quality are produced, though 
 not so plentifully as in England;- mangel-wurzel and turnips thrive 
 well, with clover, tares, lucern, sainfoin, sweet-scented vernal, and 
 indeed most of the English grasses. Sheep fatten well on the native 
 kangaroo grass. Hemp, flax, and tobacco are also produced, with 
 peas, beans, cabbage, broccoli, cauliflowers, spinach, carrots, parsnips, 
 asparagus, beet-root, artichokes, lettuces, cucumbers, celery, radishes, 
 onions, leeks, and shalots. With this abundance of vegetable prod- 
 uce, capable of still further development, the island will be able at 
 all times to support whatever population may spring up to crowd its 
 commercial cities and cultivate its rural lands. 
 
 Horses, asses, and mules, black cattle, sheep, pigs, poultry, flour- 
 ish as well as in New South Wales. The native zoology, as in that 
 province, consists of the kangaroo, in five species from the forest 
 kangaroo, standing five feet high, and clearing fifteen feet at a bound, 
 to the kangaroo mouse, considerably smaller than a rabbit. The 
 flesh of these animals is much esteemed. There are numerous va- 
 rieties of the opossum ; and there is an animal between a tiger and a 
 hyena, very destructive to the flocks. The " devil " is another car- 
 nivorous beast, shaped like an otter, which attacks the sheepfolds at 
 night. Porcupines, wild cats, and weasels, with bandicoot rabbits 
 and rats, exist ; but not in great numbers. The ornithology of the 
 island is also in some respects similar to that of Australia, but be- 
 longs to a higher order. The emu, found on both islands, is the 
 largest bird known in those regions, weighing sometimes as much as 
 a hundred pounds. Around the coast, during the breeding season, 
 great numbers of whales resort, and the fishery is valuable and pro- 
 ductive, oil forming a considerable article of export. 
 
 As of all the other British settlements formed in Australia, we 
 may say of Van Diemen's Land that it is still in the infancy of its 
 sxistence. Large tracts remain unexplored, the capabilities of the 
 soil have never been completely tested, and the universal wealth of 
 the country is scarcely at all known. With every year we may 
 look for an increasing prosperity ; and if no speculating manias oc- 
 cur again to convulse and derange its system of industry, the colony 
 may one day rank among the foremost of our dependencies, as a 
 brother in a great union of which each member contributes to the 
 welfare of the rest. With a climate of the finest kind, with a rich 
 oil, and every facility for the construction of a railway from Laun- 
 
150 
 
 AUSTRALIA AND VAN DIEMEN's LAND. 
 
 ceston to Hobart-Town, its great distance from England should be 
 no objection in the eyes of the emigrant. The sea once crossed, 
 what matter whether three or thirteen thousand miles of water roll 
 between the new home and the old ? Steam will soon rivet the links 
 of intercourse between the British islands and Australia ; and a 
 monthly Indian mail arriving with intelligence from the remote 
 south, the difference of a few days will be all in the communication 
 between this country and any of her transmarine dependencies. 
 
THE FAIR! EBP. 
 
 MANY years ago, when the people on the earth were free, and it 
 took less to make a prince or a princess than it does at the present 
 day ; when people were rich upon a. little, and everything was right- 
 fully their own that they could catch, either in the wild woods or 
 in the silver stream ; when a king was the positive representative 
 and head of the people, and so independent as to care very little 
 about anybody, and when plenty made governing easy ; when no 
 man had to pine after the possession of house or land, if he hap- 
 pened to be strong enough to kick the envied possessor out, 
 who, acknowledging might to be right, merely shrugged his shoulders 
 and wended his way to pastures new, or sought one weaker than 
 himself, and served him in like manner as he had been served by 
 his stronger neighbor; when knocking out a man's brains was 
 thought rather a spirited thing, and the murderer was rewarded 
 accordingly, by being called by anything but his real title. 
 
 Oh ! happy " many years ago," called by us the Golden Age^ 
 for no other reason than for the great scarcity of that metal which, 
 in its abundance, with strange anomaly, has only produced this 
 Iron Age, which appears every day to get more rusty. 
 
 Oh ! that now was " a good while ago," when Romance walked 
 with stately step and a positive suit of tin, through the wild woods 
 and rocky passes, and you had a chance, if you could knock hard, 
 of striking out some spark, and taking possession without question 
 of his air-built castle. Oh, happy times, when you never went to 
 law, that not being invented, but to loggerheads, which is 
 much the same thing, only leaving more for the combatants ! 
 
 In those days when all the world lived by what we call, in the 
 refinement of this age, robbery, merely because now everything 
 seems, in the most unaccountable manner, to be claimed by some- 
 body a man might ride through the luxuriant woods and lovely 
 
 (151) 
 
152 THE FAIRY CUP. 
 
 sloping glades, occasionally meeting with a fat buck that lie could 
 shoot down at his mighty will and pleasure, and dine thereon with- 
 out asking my lord or my lady, then calmly take a nap under the 
 spreading branches of some noble tree, upon a bed of most unex- 
 ceptionable moss, and all without anything to pay for trespassing. 
 
 Even the authors and poets of that day were to be envied, for 
 they had the power of publishing their own works, and getting a 
 very good living by it. One of these envied- beings was indeed a 
 whole circulating library in himself; for, whenever any impatient 
 damsel or expectant coterie languished for some particular story, 
 they were obliged to send for the author, who only yielded his 
 treasures by word of mouth. They were also the greafr origin of 
 our present newspapers, for through them alone, collecting as they 
 did all the news in their wanderings, could be obtained the chit- 
 chat and murders of the province ; and, considering their opportu- 
 nities, they did not lie more than their printed representatives of 
 the present day, which is certainly a chalk in their favor. All this 
 ability was rewarded with the warmest corner, the deepest flagon, 
 and the finest cut from the chine. This is not often the case with 
 the poets of this miserable age, who foolishly print their effusions, 
 and stay at home in their garrets, very often without any dinner 
 at all. 
 
 Pleasant times, indeed, were they for all erring humanity. 
 Young gentlemen of expensive habits, and irregularity in their 
 cash payments, instead of being summoned themselves, summoned 
 the devil, who immediately put in an appearance, took a little 
 I. 0. U of them, to be claimed at some indefinite period ; and lo ! 
 they were again freer to run out the reel of their folly to the end. 
 
 Now, young gentlemen go to the devil in a very different way 
 certainly in one less romantic. 
 
 Fairies, of a kind and beneficent nature, took under their partic- 
 ular care young handsome travellers, who did not travel as they 
 do in the present dy, for any particular house, but who went out 
 to seek their fortunes. Rather an indefinite term, certainly ; but in 
 that golden time there were a great many waifs and strays, almost 
 crying "Come take me " upon every highway. So that a man, 
 blessed with a sharp wit and a sharp sword, for a little fighting 
 was often necessary, might tumble, as it were, headlong into 
 luck, and find himself the husband of some princess, and the 
 owner of a very respectable rubble and limestone. 
 
 Gold, then, was pointed out by amiable gnomes, who did not 
 know what to do with it themselves, enriching some fortunate mor- 
 tal who had lost his way and his inheritance. Kings and bank 
 
THE FAIRY CUP. 153 
 
 clerks are the only privileged ones now who are allowed to gloafc 
 upon so much collected treasure. 
 
 In fine, then there was enough for everybody and to spare. 
 Those kind beings have all gone into some more refined sphere 
 than this matter-of-fact world. Railroads and bricks and mortar 
 have desecrated their little shady nooks and gold-burthened cav- 
 erns, and all that we have got left is the sweet remembrance of 
 their freaks and goodness " Once upon a time." 
 
 Therefore I love to rake up the old stories of my memory, and 
 introduce to my readers some few of those quaint mortals, for, 
 that they did exist, and do exist now, there can be little doubt, or 
 how otherwise could their private histories and actions have been 
 chronicled in all our early works, or been the constant theme of 
 the ancients, who are our authority in all learning and accomplish- 
 ments, even in the present day? If we doubt their Nips, and 
 gnomes, and fairies, why do we believe their Heros and Leanders, 
 their Antonys,- their Cleopatras, and a host of other historical 
 beings ? 
 
 I would not, for the world, tear out the early leaves from my 
 book of life, for I have to turn to them too often to solace me for 
 the many after pages of sorrow and gloom that fate has chronicled 
 with her changeful pen. So, reader, you must let me lead you 
 back into fairy land, and I will show you pictures both pleasing 
 and instructive. In my experience I have found that it would be 
 as well if we could be children oftener than we are. 
 
 Without further lament over what has gone by, fix your eyes 
 upon my erratic page and see what is to come. 
 
 THE FAIRY CUP. 
 
 " Once upon a time " there dwelt in the soft green shadows of a 
 primeval wood a happy woodman named Hubert, with his little 
 wife and russet-cheeked children. It was the sweetest little nest 
 the eye could rest on. Its peaked, thatched roof was mossy and 
 green from the early dews shed by the overhanging gigantic trees 
 that stretched their branches over its lowly roof to shelter it from 
 the storm, as the mother-bird spreads her wings over her callow 
 brood. Its little twinkling casement caught the first rays of the 
 morning sun, and sparkled in the most cheering manner, whilst 
 the curls of the graceful smoke rolled playfully amidst the gnarled 
 branches, and lost itself amidst abundant foliage, startling the 
 young birds in their airy nests with its sweet odor. Oh ! it was a 
 happy-looking spot. It seemed the very dwelling of Peace, who 
 
154 THE FAIRY CUP. 
 
 flies from the palace and the turmoiling crowd, to find only in the 
 simplicity of Nature a fitting resting-place for her pure spirit. 
 
 And here she dwelt indeed ; simple love pointed out the spot ; 
 peace sat upon their threshold, whilst contentment gave a zest to 
 all their enjoyments. There could be no solitude there ; for the 
 ringing laugh of childhood disturbed the echoes in the deep vistas 
 of the forest, and the birds answered from the high branches to the 
 happy notes of the gambolers beneath them. 
 
 The mother watched them in their play as she plied her wheel, 
 whilst a happy smile played in her eyes with a brightness so full of 
 love and fondness, that the last ray of the sinking sun retired in 
 dudgeon at being surpassed by the holy light. 
 
 The night stalked forth over hill and valley, stretching his long 
 and shadowy arms afar and near, as he gathered up the daylight 
 into his dark wallet, when Hubert turned his weary footsteps to 
 the home that has been pictured. He plodded through the tangled 
 path with a heavy tread, but still he whistled out a blithesome air, 
 for his heart was on the path before him, and he thought of nothing 
 between himself and his home. 
 
 But there was something in his path that, envying his sturdy 
 step and lightsome heart, cowered with spite amidst the underwood, 
 and threw forth before him the twiny, thorny brambles to delay him 
 on his way. It was one of the evil fairies of the wood a spirit 
 that gathered the deadly bright berries from the branch, and mized 
 them in a huge stone caldron in the deep recesses of the rocky 
 ravine, always dogging the footsteps of mortals to persuade them, 
 with fascinating wiles, to drink from her fairy cup, which quickly 
 destroyed the charm of all beside in nature ; for so strong was the 
 draught that it made the dark yawning precipice appear to the 
 bewildered sight of the drinker a lurid field of sweet-scented flowers 
 and bright rippling brooks, until, in his insanity, the poor deluded 
 victim destroyed himself and all he loved, and found too late that 
 he had sold himself as slave to his wily and deceitful foe. 
 
 At a sudden turn of his path he started, on beholding at the 
 foot of a gnarled tree, a beautiful female figure, with a dress of 
 filmy texture, girded with a bright cincture round her yielding 
 waist. Her beautiful limbs appearing and disappearing under the 
 transparent folds like those of a swimmer who disports himself 
 amidst the green waves of the sea. She arose with downcast looks 
 as he timidly approached. Her bright eyes fell as with timid mod- 
 esty, and the deep roseate tinge of her enamelled cheek grew 
 deeper under his ardent gaze. 
 
 Hubert doffed his cap, as this beautiful being rose from her 
 
THE FAIRY CUP. 155 
 
 recumbent posture, but stood irresolute and embarrassed by the 
 awe-inspiring charms of the creature before him. At last, after 
 gazing for a moment more, he summoned- up his courage and. ad- 
 dressed her. " Lady," said he, "fear me not I will not harm 
 you ; if you have wandered from your home, or missed your friends 
 in the intricacies of the forest, you can have no surer guide than 
 your humble servant." 
 
 A smile flitted like a bright light across the fair face of the fairy, 
 her lips unclosed, and forth issued a voice as melodious and enchant- 
 ing as the softest flute. 
 
 " Child of earth," said she, " these woods are my home. I am 
 the spirit of perfect happiness. Behold my magic cup ! " As she 
 spoke, she held up to his view a small cup of rare workmanship, 
 formed in the fashion of the wild blue-bell. It sparkled with a 
 sapphire-like lustre at every movement, as drops of liquor fell like 
 diamonds from its brim. " This cup," continued she, " was given 
 me by the fairy Hope, who never looks behind her, that past sor- 
 rows and misfortune may not cast a shadow on the future. With- 
 out Hope, mortals would all wither and die in the black valley of 
 despair ; she was sent to encourage them as a guiding-star through 
 the troubles of the world, that they might reach the abode of per- 
 fect happiness. Few mortals meet with me while living. I appear 
 occasionally, and let them drink of my cup, when I think they 
 deserve from their goodness to participate in the godlike draught. 
 You have I chosen to be one of the favored. Drink, then, and you 
 shall become greater than a king ; your burthen shall be as down 
 upon your back, and your feet shall lose their weariness ; your heart 
 shall bound with the full pulse of felicity, and you shall be borne 
 on your way upon wings stronger tjian those of the mighty eagle.'* 
 
 Hubert hesitated as the bright being held the cup still nearer to 
 his grasp. His extended hand appeared as ready to clutch it, but 
 doubts and fear withheld him from grasping its slender stem. An- 
 other moment of indecision, and it was pressed within his palm ! 
 
 "Drink, mortal! " said she, "and become almost as immortal as 
 myself. It will incase your heart with armor impervious to the 
 shafts of care, and raise your crest to the bearing of the fearless 
 warrior. You shall be no longer serf and vassal, but the lord of 
 all that surrounds you ; seeing through its influence the hidden 
 treasures of the world that now unheeded sparkle beneath your 
 feet, where the gnomes, who hate mankind, have hidden it from 
 the sight of all but those who have courage to face the dangers of 
 the fairy world." The fiends of avarice and ambition seized upon 
 the heart of the simple woodman. To be rich ! to be great ! per- 
 
156 THE FAIRY CUP. 
 
 feet happiness ! What golden promises ! The soft, bewitching voice 
 of the fairy still whispered with silvery tones in his ear the fasci- 
 nating words. Foolish mortal ! was he not already richer than a 
 king, in the love of his wife and children ? Was he not great, in 
 his honest simplicity, and had he not enjoyed perfect happiness 
 beneath the roof of his lowly sequestered cot ? 
 
 He looked for one moment upon the lustrous eyes of the being 
 before him, and, as if fascinated, drained the magic goblet at 9 
 draught. 
 
 What gushes of enrapturing pleasure rushed through his bound 
 ing veins ! His stalwart frame seemed to dilate as he yielded thi 
 cup to the ready hand of his tempter. 
 
 The vistaed trees melted, as it were, from their rugged forms into 
 towering pillars of shining marble of the most dazzling whiteness 
 the greensward rolled like waves from beneath his feet, and he stood, 
 with the mysterious being by his side, upon a flight of porphyry 
 steps that led to a palace of interminable terraces, towering in their 
 magnificence even to the blue arch of the heavens. 
 
 The load fell from his shoulders, and was seen no more. The 
 tremor left his heart as he gazed upon the wonders around him, and 
 he felt as if he had wings that would carry him to the topmost 
 height of that wondrous palace. Vases tempted him on either 
 hand, laden with the treasures of the mine, whilst jewels invaluable 
 were scattered at his feet in numbers vying with the pebbles on the 
 Bea-shore. Music, soft and delicious, wrapped his senses in- a delicious 
 delirium, ever and anon swelling into a lively measure, prompting 
 him to bound forward in a wild and rapid dance. As he progressed 
 through the magnificent halls, the attendant fairy kept plying him 
 with draughts from her bewildering goblet of sapphire, until he, 
 grown bolder at every draught, tore it from her grasp, and quaffed 
 with a maddening delight the precious liquid ; when suddenly the 
 palace and its wonders quivered before his sight like motes in the 
 sunbeam, and, gradually melting into splendid rainbow tints, sunk 
 into a black and sudden darkness the rest was all oblivion. 
 * * # * * 3? 
 
 The voice of lament rang through the forest as Hubert's wife 
 bent over his unconscious form. The cry of children arose shrilly 
 on the night air, and awakened him to a half-dreamy consciousness. 
 A stare of almost idiocy upon his pale and haggard face, as he 
 gazed at the miserable and distracted group that surrounded him, 
 made their fond hearts turn cold. 
 
 They had sought for hours for him in the mazes of the forest, and 
 at last discovered him apparently dead at the foot of an aged oak. 
 
THE FAIRY CUP. 157 
 
 With trembling and uncertain foot he accompanied them to his 
 home, muttering strange words as he went, to the dismay of his 
 fond wife and children. When they arrived at their hitherto peace- 
 ful home, he sank powerless upon the humble pallet, and fell into a 
 deep slumber. 
 
 The next morning harsh words, for the first time, answered to his 
 wife's anxious inquiries as to what had been the cause of his strange 
 accident. Without tasting the morning simple meal, he shouldered 
 his axe, and wended his way moodily into the recesses of the forest, 
 leaving a deep shadow over the brightness of home. As he disap- 
 peared through the trees, his wife pressed her little ones to her 
 breast and wept aloud. 
 
 Days and months, weary and sad, rolled on, and the noble form 
 of the woodman became a wretched ruin. He saw his once-loved 
 cot and its inhabitants withering daily before his eyes, yet still he 
 sought the fascinating being who- gave him a fleeting heaven for a 
 lasting pain. The drooping wretch no longer raised his hand to 
 labor, but lingered listlessly through the glades of the forest, craving 
 for the appearance of the being who was to lead him, at such a fear- 
 ful cost, to lands of vision and madness. 
 
 Morning, with her rosy fingers and balmy breath, opened the 
 wild flowers through the woods and valleys, shooting as if in sport 
 her golden arrows through the whispering leaves, startling the birds 
 from their sleep to sing their early matins. 
 
 Night gathered up the dark folds of her robe, and retreated ma- 
 jestically before the coming light, leaving her sparkling gems of 
 dew trembling upon every stem and flower. 
 
 * # * * * # 
 
 With downcast look and melancholy brow came the young mother. 
 Her eye beheld not the- flowers that strewed her path, and her ear 
 was deaf to the early songs of the birds; tears trembled on her 
 eyelids, and fell unconsciously down her pale cheek. Her lingering 
 step ceased as she approached a rustic basin, formed of rude blocks 
 of stone, into which the water had been turned from some neigh- 
 boring springs. 
 
 As she raised the vessel which she carried in her hands to im- 
 merge it in the sparkling waters, she was startled by seeing them 
 bubble and rise until they leaped over their stone boundary in 
 copious streams to her feet. Hardly had she time to wonder at this 
 strange phenomenon, when she beheld a dwarf like figure rise from 
 the midst. He was dressed in a quaint costume and looped-up hat, 
 which was dripping with moisture, apparently not at all to his in- 
 convenience, for he leaned upon the edge of the basin, while his 
 
158 THE FAIRY CUP. 
 
 little figure continued still half-submerged, with a comfortable and 
 satisfied look. 
 
 As she continued to gaze at the odd object before her, undeter- 
 mined whether to stay or fly, he politely raised his hat, and bads 
 her not to be alarmed. " For I have come out," said he, " this 
 morning on purpose to meet you, and to try and remedy the sorrow 
 which is devouring you. I say ' remedy,' for you must understand 
 I am the natural universal doctor. In fact," continued he, while 
 a sly smile passed across his comic little face, " your human doctors 
 apply to me upon all occasions ; indeed, without me they could not 
 exist, though they never let their patients know it, for, if they 
 did, they would all poor deluded wretches ! come direct to me, 
 and ruin the whole of the fraternity. 
 
 " I have more power than any sprite, fairy, or gnome, that ex- 
 ists ; the whole earth itself is under my control. These mighty 
 trees would never raise their towering heads without me ; no flower 
 would bloom at their rugged feet, nor would the soft mossy carpet 
 so grateful to your feet live for a moment, if I did not sustain 
 it by my magic aid. I am ordained to yield continual good 
 wherever I am present. I creep amidst the wild flowers and bid 
 them bloom. I climb the snake-like vine, and hang it with the 
 rich clustering grape, and all the fruits of the earth await my sum- 
 mons to burst their bonds and yield their treasures to the human 
 race. 
 
 " I wander into, other lands, and bear back rich argosies laden 
 with jewels and gold to deck the brow of noble beauty. I dash 
 down from rocky heights, headlong, to fertilize the teeming valleys. 
 My voice is heard like the roaring thunder, and anon like the softest 
 music in the shady solitudes, as I whisper on my way through the 
 reeds and the water-lilies. Where I am not, all must droop and 
 die. 
 
 " I have watched you long, when you sought me in your early 
 days of happiness and love, until young blossoms like yourself 
 sprung up around you, and paddled with their tiny feet in my cool 
 and crystal waters. Then your song was of the merriest measure ; 
 but now the echoes mourn in silence the absence of your melodious 
 voice, and your sighs alone break the stillness. Your pale face has 
 been reflected in these waters, until I felt and knew that some blight 
 had fallen upon your happiness, which as yet had never shrunk 
 under the cankering breath of care. 
 
 " A little bright rill, that had wandered to play with the wild 
 blossoms in this wood, returned to me, and, prattling by my side, 
 told me of the dreadful delusion under which your hitherto good 
 
THE FAIRY CUP. 159 
 
 and stalwart husband labored. I watched him as he came, with 
 dejected look, so unlike his former self, to lave his burning brow in 
 my cooling waters. I quickly saw what fairy demon's hand had 
 BO destroyed the goodly form and noble heart of my poor woodman. 
 Here was the shadow that fell over your pure brow, drained your 
 young heart, and silenced the song that made this no longer a soli- 
 tude. 
 
 "Listen to me," continued he, "and I will endeavor to save 
 him. If you can persuade him, by the eloquence of your love and 
 the picture of the ruin that day by day encompasses you all, to 
 attend strictly to my warning. I will rescue him from the overpow- 
 ering spell of the fascinating 4emon that enthralls him. 
 
 " I will give him a talisman so powerful that the scales shall 
 drop from his eyes, and his destroyer appear in her own proper hid- 
 eous colors ; when, if he has any love left for those whose sole 
 dependence is on him, he will resolutely baffle all the attempts made 
 to seduce him again into this world of vicious dreams and indo- 
 lence." 
 
 As he concluded, he sunk beneath the waters. The young wife 
 stood entranced, with hope beating in her heart, and her eyes fixed 
 upon the bubbles as they rose to the surface, doubting almost 
 whether what she had heard was not a delusion of her distracted 
 brain. 
 
 Another moment, and the benevolent sprite again appeared, hold- 
 ing in his hand a globe containing a liquid that shone like a pure 
 diamond. 
 
 " Take this, and let your husband keep it with him ; and when 
 the deluding demon approaches him, to mystify him with her mach- 
 inations, let him drink from the small aperture of this globe, and he 
 will instantly see her in her demoniac form. Let him persevere, 
 and she will fly from him, and you and he will be saved and restored 
 to peace. Farewell ! " 
 
 As she clasped the bottle with eager hand, he sank amidst a thou- 
 sand sparkling bubbles, and she was alone. Quickly she sped through 
 the tangled way, for her feet were winged by love, and by hope that 
 had long lain drooping. The cottage door was soon reached, where 
 sat the pale form of her husband, his bloodshot eyes turned lan- 
 guidly towards her as she approached. But he was soon roused 
 from his listless posture by seeing the excitement of her manner, 
 and listening to her strange tale, which he would have doubted, had 
 she not shown him in triumph the bright globe given her by the 
 sprite of the spring. 
 
 Her almost childish delight, strange to say, hardly met with a 
 
160 THE FAIRY CUP. 
 
 response in his bosom, for the charm of Ms daily enchantments he 
 seemed to feel a hesitation to relinquish ; they appeared to his bewil- 
 dered sense all that was worth living for. 
 
 Her heart sunk with almost a death-like pang, but she bade him 
 drink from the jewel-like bottle. A deep shudder shook his attenu- 
 ated frame as he did so. One moment, and his pallid features 
 flushed as he beheld, for the first time, the ruin and desolation of 
 his home. He stood an abashed and guilty man before his loving 
 wife and little innocent children. 
 
 # # * * * * 
 
 Hubert, armed with good resolves and his stout axe, again entered 
 the forest, his heart palpitating with an indescribable feeling, as if 
 in doubt of the power of the talisman to reld him from the fasci- 
 nation of his deluder. Hardly had the stroke of his axe awakened 
 the echoes of the forest, when, through a shady vista, he saw the 
 light form of the fairy tripping over the greensward, .with upraised 
 cup and joyous laugh, as she recognized him at his labor. Strange 
 thrills rushed through his f frame as she approached nearer and 
 nearer ; strange thoughts hovered in his mind of throwing his wife's 
 talisman from him, and once more clasping that tempting cup that 
 shone even in the distance like a bright amethyst. 
 
 But a shadow fell over the bright form, and her resplendent eyes 
 glared with a fiendish look, as it approached nearer to the spot. 
 
 He seized the talisman, and drank of its pure and bright con- 
 tents. On the instant, the forms of his wife and children encircled 
 him in fond union, as a barrier between him and the evil spirit. 
 Again he drank, and, as he did so, shuddered with horror as he 
 beheld a lambent flame rise from the hitherto craved goblet of the 
 fiend. 
 
 The beautiful locks, which played round the brow of the false 
 one, twined into writhing snakes, and bright burning scales rose 
 upon her fair bosom. Her face became distorted with horrible pas- 
 sion. Hubert could behold no more ; he placed his hands across hia 
 eyes to shut out the fiend, and in a moment he was alone. 
 
 # * * # # * 
 
 That night, as the moon threw her silver tribute on the rippling 
 waters of the lowly well, Hubert stood with his arms around the 
 waist of his happy wife. They were silent and expectant. They 
 both hoped to see the benevolent being, who had given them a pow- 
 erful talisman, to free them from the destroying spirit. 
 
THE WHITE SWALLOW. 
 
 THE DOG-RIBBED INDIANS. 
 
 FAR away to the west, and in a very high northern latitude, dwelt, 
 towards the latter end of the last century, a small tribe of Indians. 
 Their numbers were few, their characters simple and un warlike. 
 Not being celebrated in arms, they had, while residing further to 
 the south, been so often a prey to their fiercer neighbors, that they 
 had gradually retreated northwards, in the hope of escaping from 
 the forays of their enemies. Matonaza, a young chief of twenty 
 summers only, commanded the reduced tribe, and had pitched his 
 wigwam near the waters of a lake. A renowned and indefatigable 
 hunter, full of energy and perseverance, he owed his power as 
 much to his individual merits as to the renown of his father ; and 
 now that seven-and-twenty men alone remained of all his race, and 
 that misfortune and the disasters of war had driven them to regions 
 less productive in game than their former residence, his sway was 
 unbounded. Matonaza was as yet without a wife ; but the most 
 lovely girl of his tribe, the White Swallow, was to be his when his 
 twenty-first summer was concluded, when she herself would attain 
 the age of sixteen. 
 
 In general the Dog-ribbed Indians at that date it was about 
 1770 had had little communication with the white man. Their 
 knives were still of bone and flint, their hatchets of horn, then* 
 arrow-heads of slate, while the beaver's tooth was the principal mate- 
 rial of their working tools ; but Matonaza himself had travelled, 
 and had visited Prince of Wales Fort, where he had been well 
 received by Mr. Moses Northon, the governor, himself an Indian, 
 educated in England. Admitted into the intimacy of this person, 
 Matonaza had acquired from him considerable knowledge without 
 contracting any of the vices which disgraced the career of the civil- 
 1 1 (i6i) 
 
162 THE WHITE SWALLOW. 
 
 ized Red Man. He had learned to feel some of the humanizing 
 influences of civilization, and held woman in a superior light to his 
 brethren, who pronounce the condemnation of savage life by mak- 
 ing the female part of the creation little better than beasts of bur- 
 then. He had hoped for great advantage to his tribe from trade 
 with the pale faces ; but the enmity of the Athapascow Indians had 
 checked all his aspirations, and he had been compelled to make a 
 long and hasty retreat towards the north, to save the remnant of his 
 little band from annihilation. In all probability it is to similar 
 warlike persecutions that the higher northern regions owe their 
 having been peopled by the race whence are descended the Esqui- 
 maux. 
 
 The exigencies of the chase and the fishery, more than any in- 
 herent taste for the picturesque, had fixed -Matonaza in a lovely 
 spot. The wigwams of the young chief and his party were situated 
 on an elevation commanding a view of a large lake, whose borders, 
 round which grew the larch, the pine, and the poplar, furnished 
 them with firing, tent-poles., and arms. Beyoncl lay lofty snow- 
 clad hills, on which rested eternal frosts. Above the tents to the 
 right and to the north fell a vast cataract, which never froze even 
 in the coldest winter, having always a clear expanse at its foot for 
 fishing even in the dead of the season. At the foot of the neigh- 
 boring hills the hunters found the deer, the elk, and the buffalo, 
 while the women attended to the nets and lines in the lake. In 
 the fitting months there were plenty of wild fowl, and altogether, 
 the tribe, though exiled from the warmer fields of the south, had no 
 great cause of complaint. Their tents sheltered them well, they 
 had plenty of food, ample occupation, and for a long time peace 
 and contentment. Far away from the conflict of arms, the warriors 
 threw all their energy into hunting ; and, with the habit of scalp- 
 ing and killing their fellows, threw off much of their rudeness. 
 The women felt the change' sensibly : their husbands grew ten- 
 derer ; much of the energy wasted on murderous propensities found 
 vent in the domestic sentiments. The fact that each man had only 
 one wife, and some none their victorious adversaries having not 
 only killed their best men, but carried off their marriageable wo- 
 men added to their superiority of character. Polygamy among 
 these Indians, as everywhere else, brutalizes the men, and debases 
 the women ; and in those tribes where rich men had as many as 
 eight wives, the fair sex sunk to the level of mere slaves. But on 
 the borders of the White Lake they had no superabundance of 
 ladies, and they 'were valued accordingly. It is readily to be com- 
 prehended how the position of an Englishman's wife is preferable 
 
THE WHITE SWALLOW. '. 163 
 
 to that of a sultan's ; the English wife is alone ; the sultan's spouse 
 shares his affections, such as they may be, with some four hun- 
 dred ! 
 
 Matonaza viewed this state of things with delight. He had, 
 since his residence with the Pale Faces, become ambitious. He 
 aimed at civilizing his people ; he had already induced his tribe to 
 consider the matrimonial tie as permanent, which was a great step. 
 Then he boldly entered upon the somewhat rash experiment of al- 
 leviating the laborious duties of the women. He tried to in luce 
 the men to do some of the hard work ; but here he met with in- 
 vincible repugnance. The women had been always accustomed to 
 draw the sledges, carry the baggage, and pitch the tents, while the 
 men hunted, ate and smoked. Any departure from this line of 
 conduct was beneath "the dignity " of a warrior. Matonaza dis- 
 covered that to expect any permanent change in a nomadic race 
 used to hunting, leading a wandering life, and accustomed to arms, 
 was difficult. He felt that he must first make his people sedentary 
 and agricultural, and then begin their civilization. 
 
 Having conceived this plan, he despatched the best runner in 
 the tribe to Prince of Wales Fort. He gave him some furs, and a 
 message to Moses Northon, with directions to follow the most un- 
 frequented trails, to travel cautiously, and by no means to allow 
 the terrible Indians of Athapascow Lake to track him. Three 
 months passed before the runner returned, and then he came ac- 
 companied by a young and adventurous Englishman, who had 
 sought this opportunity of learning the manners of the far-off tribes, 
 and of studying the geography of the interior. Matonaza received 
 him well, and was glad of his assistance to lay out his ffelds of 
 corn and maize, by sowing which, he hoped to attract his Indians 
 to a permanent residence, and to destroy all fear of famine. Mark 
 Dalton joyously seconded his projects. He was the son of a gen- 
 tleman who was a shareholder in the Hudson's Bay Company, and 
 who joined to the love of travel, adventure, and the chase, consid- 
 erable knowledge of agriculture. One year older than the Indian 
 chief, they at once became warm friends, and, from the, hour of their 
 first meeting, were never a day apart. 
 
 It was not without difficulty that the chief could get his fielda 
 dug, small though they were, though he and Mark worked, because 
 the women alone followed their example. The soil was not of the 
 best character, and the climate pretty rigorous ; but still corn would 
 grow, and Matonaza suffered not himself to be downhearted. A 
 whole spring, summer, and autumn, were devoted to these agricul- 
 tural pursuits ; and when, at the end of the fine season, a good 
 
164 THE WHITE SWALLOW. 
 
 harvest enabled the tribe to vaiy their food from venison, fish, and 
 buffalo meat, to corn-cakes, and other preparations of flour and 
 maize, all were satisfied. The Indians, naturally indolent, were 
 pleased at the prospect of obtaining even their food by the labor 
 of the women. This was not precisely what the youthful chief 
 desired, but it was still a kind of progress, and he was so far grati- 
 fied. 
 
 But he did not neglect his hunting. Eager to show Mark all 
 the mysteries of his craft, Matonaza led him after the elk, which 
 they ran down together on foot in the snow. This is the most 
 arduous department of Indian hunting. The sportsmen throw 
 away all arms which may embarrass them, keeping only a knife, 
 and a pouch containing the means of striking a light. Being prac- 
 tised while the snow is on the ground, the men accordingly wear 
 long snow-shoes. The Indian chief and Mark Dalton rose at dawn 
 of day, and, having succeeded in discovering an elk, darted along 
 the snow in pursuit. The chase under ordinary circumstances 
 -would be vain, a man being not at all equal to an elk in a running 
 match ; but, on the present occasion, while the unfortunate animal 
 sunk at every step up to his body in the snow, the men with snow- 
 shoes glided along the surface with extreme rapidity. With all 
 these disadvantages, the animal often runs seven hours, ten hours, 
 and even four-and-twenty in some rare instances ; seldom, however, 
 escaping from the patient hunter. When reached, they make a 
 desperate defence with their head and fore-feet, and have been 
 known to slay their human enemy. 
 
 On the present occasion, the animal was a magnificent specimen, 
 considerably taller at the shoulders than a horse, and his head fur- 
 nished with antlers of fifty pounds' weight. His coarse and angular 
 hair, so little elastic that it breaks when bent, was of a grayish 
 color, having probably changed at the beginning of the winter 
 from nearly black. He was tracked by his footprints on the snow, 
 the hunters keeping at some distance to leeward of the trail, so as 
 not to alarm the watchful animal even by the crackling of a twig. 
 He was at length seen, but at too great a distance for a shot, sitting 
 on his hams like a dog, and seemed at first in no hurry to rise ; 
 though, when at last satisfied of the character of his enemies, and 
 his mind made up for flight, he got upon his legs ; but even then, 
 instead of bounding and galloping like other deer, he shuffled along 
 so heavily, his joints cracking audibly at every step, that Mark was 
 inclined to form but a mean opinion of the sport. Gradually, how- 
 ever, its ungainly speed increased, its hind-fegs straddling from 
 behind, as if to avoid treading on its fore-heels ; and when a pros- 
 
THE WHITE SWALLOW. 165 
 
 trate tree interposed in the path, it stepped over the trunk, however 
 huge, without its flight being interrupted for an instant. It seemed, 
 in fact, that smaller obstacles were more dangerous to the fugitive 
 than great ones ; for running, as he did, with his nose up in the air, 
 and his huge horns laid horizontally on his back an attitude 
 necessary, it is to be presumed, to sustain their weight he could 
 not see close to the surface, and on one occasion a branch which 
 protruded only a few inches from the snow caught his fore-feet, and 
 he rolled over with a heavy fall. The hunters thought they were 
 now sure of their prey ; but the elk scrambled on his legs again in 
 surprisingly little time ; and, as he pursued his flight with unabated 
 speed, Matonaza seemed to derive some quiet amusement from the 
 surprise of the Pale Face, as he found himself engaged in so difficult 
 a chase of so apparently unwieldy an animal. 
 
 It was the policy of the hunters to turn the fugitive to where the 
 snow was deepest ; but, as if knowing his danger, the elk contin- 
 ued to keep on comparatively hard ground, and at length, by the 
 intervention of trees and inequalities of the surface, he escaped 
 wholly from view. His trail, however, could not be concealed ; 
 and for many hours his pursuers followed, well knowing that their 
 quarry was only a short distance in front, but unable to obtain a 
 glimpse of him. The trail at length appeared to turn towards a 
 hollow, where the hunters might be tolerably secure of their prize ; 
 and the two, friends separated, to make such a sweep as would lead 
 them to the same point. Presently, however, the animal appeared 
 to discover his imprudence ; and at a moment when Mark was 
 unprepared, he saw the huge creature returning on his own trail, 
 and within ten or twelve yards of him. The rifle seemed to go off 
 of its own accord, so sudden was the discharge ; but the shot missed 
 and on came the elk, its nose no longer in the air, but pointing full 
 at its enemy, with the points and edges of its tremendous antlers 
 in terrible array. Mark did not lose his presence of mind ; but 
 springing behind a young tree, which was fortunately at hand, felt 
 himself for a moment in safety. 
 
 It was not the antlers the hunter had to fear, for they were not 
 used as weapons of offence ; but the creature, determined to carry 
 the war into the enemv's quarters, struck furiously at the interven- 
 ing tree with his fore-reet, and Mark speedily found that its shelter 
 would not long be between him and his justly-incensed enemy. No 
 other tree was near enough at hand, and he was too busily engaged 
 in dodging round and round to be able to load his rifle. Faster 
 and faster fell the blows of the fore-feet. Now a piece of bark, 
 now a splinter of wood, flew off; and now the tree bent, split, and 
 
166 THE WHITE SWALLOW. 
 
 came crashing down. Even so fell the elk ; for, just at the critical 
 moment, a bullet from the Indian chief, who had returned to the 
 rescue at imminent peril to himself, struck him in a vital part, and 
 killed him on the spot. 
 
 The two hunters made prize of the skin and of the more delicate 
 parts of the dead animal, and on returning to their companions, 
 loaded with the spoil, Mark ate for the first time of elk flesh of his 
 own hunting. This is considered a great delicacy by the Indians 
 and all residents of the fur countries. It is preferred by many to 
 beef, and the fat resembles that of a breast of mutton. 
 
 When the spring had arrived, it was resolved that the whole of 
 the male party, save two old men, should start on a trip to the 
 mountains, in search of buffalo and elk, which they intended to 
 kill, dry, and drag home on sledges made from the first trees they 
 laid their hands on. The women were to join them six weeks 
 after their departure, at a place close to th> scene of their hunt ; 
 and, thus reinforced, the men hoped to have an ample stock of 
 dried meat for the winter. Great preparations were made on the 
 occasion. All the arms of the tribe were furbished up. Mato- 
 naza and Mark alone had firearms ; the rest had bows, arrows, and 
 spears. The women mended the clothes of the hunters, packed 
 their provisions, and made the thongs to drag the sledges with. 
 But the chief part of such utensils were to be brought by them to 
 the rendezvous. The gentle, lovely, and blushing White Swallow 
 herself made everything ready for her betrothed, to whom, on his 
 return, she was to be united. All was smiling, promising, and 
 joyous. The fields of the little settlement were improving ; the 
 wigwams exhibited the air of more permanent buildings than they 
 usually are ; and when the warriors departed on their errand, they 
 left behind them a happy and hopeful community. 
 
 THE ATHAPASCOW FORAY. 
 
 As soon as the men were really gone, the two elders proceeded 
 to organize the movements of the party for the next six weeks. 
 They had been directed to make clothes, watch the fields, fish for 
 their subsistence, and do all needful domestic duties. All save the 
 White Swallow. She, the unmarried, but affianced bride of the 
 chief, was, by custom, exempt from all share in labor ; but to this 
 her .tastes and feelings were repugnant, and though the White 
 Swallow neither scraped leather, nor carried burthens, she was yet 
 industrious in her way. She learned to make her own clothes, to 
 
THE WHITE SWALLOW. 167 
 
 fish in the lake, to light a fire, to build a tent, to snare birds, and 
 to perform a multitude of other things necessary to the existence of 
 an Indian woman. 
 
 Then, again, while her companions were scattered round the lake 
 or in the fields, she would stop with some of the more helpless 
 infants. She would, while overlooking them, sit still and think 
 with pride and joy on the absent one, whose image was always 
 uppermost in her thoughts. In general, nothing is more pleasant to 
 the gentle female heart than the memory of beings well-beloved and 
 far away ; and no employment is more conducive to this dreamy 
 occupation than sedentary ones. The women one day started to 
 fetch the produce of their successful draught of a large net at some 
 distance, taking with them the two old men. The whole camp was 
 abandoned to the guardianship of the White Swallow and a couple 
 of shaggy, ill-looking dogs, which were none the less faithful 
 because ill-favored. The young girl had volunteered for this 
 service ; and to her charge were committed eight infants of various 
 ages, that rolled about on a green spot with the dogs, unable to 
 crawl because of their uncouth swathing. As they had been well 
 fed before the departure of the mothers, the duty of Thee-kis-ho, 
 the Indian name of our heroine, chiefly consisted in keeping away 
 any wandering wolves from invading the camp ; a service which 
 the dogs probably could render even more effectively. 
 
 However this may be, the young girl seated herself on a log at 
 no great distance from the wigwams, and thence looked around. 
 At her feet was the lake, divided from her only by some fifty feet 
 of cornfield; Matonaza having placed his fields near the water. 
 To her right was a large and novel building for an Indian village, 
 erected under the guidance of Mark, and which served as the 
 granary of the tribe. Close to this was the wigwam of the vener- 
 able dame who was her adopted mother not one of her relatives 
 remaining alive. At some distance was the chief's hut, and on 
 this her eyes were fixed ; and the sight naturally enough filled her 
 mind with sunny thoughts ; for she could look forward now to its 
 being hers too at no distant period ; and cold, indeed, must be the 
 female heart which is not warmed at the thoughts of the home which 
 is soon to receive her as a wife. 
 
 Thus occupied, and watching over the children, and in prepara- 
 tions for the evening meal, the hours flew swiftly by, and the 
 White Swallow at last heard the. voices of the returning party just 
 as night was about to close upon the scene. At this instant her 
 ear was attracted by footsteps approaching from behind. She turned, 
 and one wild shriek betrayed the intensity of her alarm. 
 
168 THE WHITE SWALLOW. 
 
 " The Athapascows ! " she cried, springing up, and about dart- 
 ing away to meet her companions. 
 
 "Stay," said a young warrior, leaping to her side ; "there is 
 room in my wigwam for another squaw." 
 
 Seven painted and horrid Indians were around the young 
 girl ere she could move. They were all in their war-paint, and 
 well armed ; they stood gazing at the village an instant, as if irreso- 
 lute. 
 
 " Warriors of the Dog-ribbed race ! " cried the resolute girl in 
 a loud and ringing voice, " on to save your wigwams ! The lying 
 foxes of the Athapascows are among us ! " 
 
 The young Indian seized her by the arm, a second plucked a 
 brand from the fire, and cast it into the granary, and then the whole 
 party, conceiving the men of the tribe to be upon them, commenced 
 a rapid retreat, bearing with them their wretched and disconsolate 
 captive. They were a party of ambitious youths, who, having hit 
 upon the trail of the runner the year before, had tracked his steps 
 in search of scalps and glory. Alighting on the camp when 
 deserted by all but the White Swallow, they had intended to hide in 
 the huts until the return of the rest . of the party ; but suddenly 
 startled by the cry which responded to that of Thee-kis-ho, they 
 fled, believing the whole tribe to be upon them. Their haste had 
 marred the object of their expedition, while their position became 
 one, as they thought, of extreme danger. The part to be played 
 by the young girl was most painful. If she revealed the absence 
 of the men, the Athapascows would return and capture the rest of 
 the women ; if she remained silent, she was doomed to be hurried 
 away into captivity, all the more horrid because of her late day- 
 dreams and visions. While dwelling on these thoughts, she found 
 herself proceeding to a considerable distance from the camp in a 
 south-easterly direction. The Indians moved with the utmost 
 rapidity and silence towards a very broken, stony, and arid plain, 
 the last spot which men would have been supposed to choose for a 
 retreat. Suddenly they halted at the edge of one of those deep 
 fissures met with sometimes in the prairies and in the plains of the 
 West : this was their camp. Their victim was told to go down, 
 and was then placed in a natural hollow, the Indians barring all 
 exit. They next proceeded to light a small fire with some well- 
 charred wood, that gave neither flame nor smoke, upon which they 
 cooked their evening meal. A piece of meat was given to the girl, 
 which she ate, strength being necessary to her. She had not aban- 
 doned all hope. There are a thousand chances between total 
 despair, as between the fruition of hopes, and Thee-kis-ho, .while 
 
THE WHITE SWALLOW. 169 
 
 crouching in her hole, strained every faculty of her mind for an 
 idea out of which might come escape. 
 
 The Indians conversed with considerable volubility as soon as 
 one had departed as a scout. There were no aged or experienced 
 warriors among them to check their eagerness and levity. They 
 expressed themselves in a dialect which the White Swallow partly 
 understood. She could distinguish that they spoke with consider- 
 able disappointment about their failure, and that all seemed deter- 
 mined not to return home until they had obtained a sufficient 
 number of scalps to excuse with the elders of the tribe their temerity 
 and long absence. Much difference of opinion prevailed, but at 
 last the whole party came to a resolution which can only be com- 
 prehended by those who know the Indian character. They 
 resolved upon marching northward to the Coppermine River, to 
 waylay and attack the unfortunate Esquimaux, whom they expected 
 to have the double satisfaction of killing and robbing. These 
 Esquimaux have from time immemorial been the prey of the more 
 southern tribes, whose persecution accounts for a large portion of 
 the race having abandoned terra firma, to live on the islands in 
 the Polar Sea, where they were found by Ross, Parry, Franklin, 
 and other explorers. 
 
 Thee-kis-ho heard this decision with varied emotions, while another 
 gave her unqualified satisfaction. It was determined that, as their 
 prize was young and pretty, she should be the reward, at the end 
 of the expedition, of the bravest and most distinguished member of 
 the party. The journey with which she was threatened was long, 
 arduous, and of doubtful issue ; but it offered, all the more readily 
 on this account, some chance of escape, and the occurrences of the two 
 or three moons before her might still enable her to wed the young 
 chief; a consummation which she resolved should never happen if 
 she were forced first of all to be the squaw of an Athapascow. 
 The moon rose about midnight, when the Indians were smoking, 
 and the scout then returned, bringing word that their camp was 
 admirably hidden, and that there were no alarming signs within some 
 miles. Satisfied with this assurance, the whole party went to 
 sleep, after tying both the arms and feet of their captive in such a 
 way that, while not hurting her, the thongs completely precluded 
 movement. 
 
 Wearied with her walk and her thoughts, the White Swallow 
 went to sleep, and awoke only when summoned to cook the morning 
 repast of her captors, after which they started along an arid plain 
 towards the north, in which direction lay the villages of the Esqui- 
 maux. About mid-day a halt took place near a small wood ; and 
 while some went about in search of game, the rest set hard to work 
 
170 THE WHITE SWALLOW. 
 
 to make shields, which were absolutely necessary to defend them- 
 selves against the fish-bone arrows of their enemies. Thee-kis-ho 
 received a knife part of a sharpened hoop to aid in the process, 
 which, when the work was concluded, its owner forgot to reclaim, 
 and the Indian girl gladly hid it about her person. The shields 
 were ingeniously fashioned of small strips of wood fastened by 
 deer-skin thongs, and, when finished, were three feet long, two feet 
 broad, and a couple of inches thick. It was nearly evening when 
 the work was concluded ; but the Indians, fearful of being pursued, 
 after eating a hearty meal, continued their march some hours 
 longer, and camped near a lake of small dimensions. TJie White 
 Swallow took careful note of all the places they came to, that she 
 might find her way back again if possible, and was not sorry to 
 observe that the Indians left a pretty evident trail. 
 
 For several days after, their progress was very slow indeed, as 
 much game fell in their way, and the Athapascows, to whom eating 
 was even more grateful than glory, revelled on the fat deer of the 
 lakes. Much more, however, was killed than was consumed, from 
 the mere love of waste, which is inherent in most savage people. 
 These Indians would not pass a bird's nest without destroying it, 
 much more a deer which they could neither eat nor carry ; while, 
 if they refrained from setting fire to a grove of trees they encamped 
 in at night, it was not from any calculation that they or others 
 might want the grove again, but because the conflagration might 
 betray them. Here, as in nearly everything else, the alleged 
 superiority of the "child of nature" fades before examination. 
 
 They soon reached the confines of inhabited ground, when they 
 hit upon the branch of the Conge-cathawachaga River ; and as the 
 dwellers on its banks were enemies, and too powerful for seven men 
 to attack, every precaution was taken. No fires were lit; they 
 camped in strange outrof-the-way places ; and crossed the stream 
 swimming, despite the rapid current, which swept them a long way 
 down. They hit one night on a large camp, with blazing fires and 
 numerous dogs, but moved off as fast as possible, being not at all 
 inclined to have fifty Coppermine Indians at their heels. These 
 savages do not live so near the sea as the Esquimaux, but they 
 have many of the same habits. Still, they are a distinct race, 
 though probably all the inhabitants of America are of Tartar or 
 Chinese origin. 
 
 They were still at some distance from the Coppermine River, and 
 weary and sore-footed indeed was Thee-kis-ho, now some five or six 
 hundred miles away from the home of her friends and her intended 
 husband. Provisions, too, were now short ; and as on such occa- 
 
THE WHITE SWALLOW. 171 
 
 sions the men of this part of America help themselves first, the 
 White Swallow went often to rest without food. An Indian, when 
 reduced to semi-starvation, will rarely, if ever, divide what he has 
 with his wife or wives he eats all, and leaves the women to starve. 
 Some days even the men were reduced to a pipe and a draught of 
 water, and the girl was glad to chew the leaves of an odoriferous 
 plant by way of a last resource. 
 
 The way, too, was arid and rough. They were now amid the 
 Rocky Mountains of the farther north, a vast and dark pile of 
 rocks, looking perfectly inaccessible ; but on went the Indians, some- 
 times walking, sometimes crawling on their hands and knees. The 
 path, however, was marked and clear as any highway, but often so 
 steep, as to present extraordinary difficulties. At night they slept 
 in hollows and caves without fire, generally from want of wood ; but 
 sometimes from the heavy rains, which rendered the moss, usually 
 a never-failing- resource, damp and useless. All this tended to put 
 the Indians in a savage humor, which promised little for the poor 
 Esquimaux ; and Thee-kis-ho suffered all the more neglect and hun- 
 ger. In fact, with the exception of raw meat, devoured with raven- 
 ous ardor, there were no meals taken during the whole time they 
 were crossing the mountains. 
 
 Near Buffalo Lake they killed a large number of the animals 
 which gave it its name, and, finding some wood, regaled themselves. 
 The White Swallow, more determined than ever to fly, concealed 
 a small portion of food about her person, that at all events she 
 might not starve in her flight. The road, after their departure 
 from Buffalo Lake, became less rugged and disagreeable, while, by 
 signs which had been described to them by certain old Indians, they 
 believed themselves approaching the termination of their journey. 
 The young men seemed chiefly satisfied at recognizing the eminence 
 of the Gray Bear, so called because frequented in certain seasons 
 by those animals. At last the sight of a large wood, and of a river 
 in the distance, made the warriors eagerly advance. They were in 
 view of Coppermine River, a stream wide, shallow, and filled with 
 rocks and cataracts. 
 
 A halt was now called, and a council held. All were unanimous 
 that a day's rest and food were necessary before striking their 
 intended blow. Accordingly, while the White Swallow and two 
 Indians stopped to prepare the fire, the others started off in vari- 
 ous directions in search of game. It was the last, time they would 
 hunt before they attacked the Esquimaux, as it would henceforth 
 be dangerous to let the report of firearms be heard in the neighbor- 
 hood. Before two hours had passed, each Indian had brought in 
 
172 THE WHITE SWALLOW. 
 
 his deer, and then all fell to work to broil, and roast, and stew, eat- 
 ing as they went on. The consumption of victuals would have 
 alarmed an English troop of horse, but the enormous capacity of 
 the Indian for food is well known. It is enough to say, that had 
 the White Swallow not been well fastened by leathern thongs, she 
 could easily have escaped, as, before night, every Athapascow war- 
 rior was sleeping off his feast like a boa-constrictor. 
 
 MATONAZA. 
 
 When the Indian women saw the brand thrown into their gran- 
 ary, and caught a glimpse of the retreating Indians, they knew at 
 once the nature of the late surprise. Their first impulse was deep 
 gratitude for their fortunate return, for one minute longer, and 
 every child on the green-sward would have been immolated ; the 
 red-skin in his wars sparing neither toddling infancy, decrepit old 
 age. nor defenceless women. Then a scream of rage and despair 
 arose as they discovered that the pride of the tribe, their chief's 
 affianced wife, was gone. They looked about in speechless terror, 
 expecting to see her bleeding and mangled corpse, but several 
 declared that they had recognized both her form and her voice 
 among the marauders. Then all the women, and the boys and lads 
 of eleven and twelve, seized ever}'- available weapon, and, after light- 
 ing huge fires, prepared to pass the night. The conflagration of the 
 barn was easily extinguished ; and fortunately so, for it contained 
 the whole of the unconsumed autumn crop. 
 
 The night, though full of alarms, passed peaceably, and before its 
 termination, one of the old men had severely cautioned and instructed 
 one of the lads, whom he designed as the bearer of the news to Ma- 
 tonaza. The boy, proud and honored by the trust reposed in him, 
 took his bow and arrows, provisions for four days, and just about 
 dawn started at a round trot towards the hills, which he reached 
 with unerring accuracy on the third day. But no trace of the war- 
 riors of his tribe did he find. Still, the lad hesitated not a moment . 
 climbing a lofty and prominent eminence, he cast his eyes for some 
 ten minutes round the horizon. Satisfied with this scrutiny, he 
 tightened his belt, descended, and darted across a long low plain, at 
 the very extremity of which he had seen a rather remarkable column 
 of smoke, which the boy at once attributed to the Pale Face who 
 accompanied his friends. 
 
 After three hours of continuous running, he gained a small lake, 
 on the borders of which was a fire in the centre of a grove of trees 
 
THE WHITE SWALLOW. 173 
 
 He clearly distinguished a man engaged in the classical and time- 
 honored art of cooking. It was Mark, as he expected ; who, being 
 a little wearied, had volunteered to pass a day in the camp, cooking 
 and inhaling tobacco-smoke, with eating, which is the acme of lux- 
 ury in the eyes of a prairie hunter. The lad advanced straight 
 towards the fire, and, without speaking, sunk, exhausted and faint- 
 ing, at the feet of the Englishman. Mark seized his double-bar- 
 relled gun, fired both barrels, and then, these preconcerted signals 
 given, piling a great armful of green boughs on the fire, stooped to 
 attend to the boy. He raised him up, gave him water, a little 
 brandy, and then food. In a quarter of an hour he could tell his 
 story. Mark heard him with dismay. He had formed a warm 
 attachment for his Indian friend, and a proportionate one for his 
 future wife. He knew at once how agonizing would be the feelings 
 of the young warrior, who, having but this one squaw in view, had 
 fixed on her his ardent affections far more strongly than is usual 
 with a red-skin. 
 
 It was not long ere the whole party were collected round the fire. 
 The Indians came in from all sides at the sight of the signal. A 
 dead silence then ensued, not one of the red-skins asking any ques- 
 tions. All saw the boy ; but not even his own father evinced any 
 womanly or unusual curiosity by taking notice of him. 
 
 " Matonaza is a great warrior," said Mark Dalton solemnly, after 
 a certain pause ; " and his heart is the heart of a man. The Ath- 
 apascow Indian is a snake : he has crept in and stolen away the 
 Swallow." 
 
 The young chief said nothing, but Mark plainly saw the muscles 
 of his face working, and knew how he felt. But he took no note of 
 the warrior's emotion, but bade the boy tell his story. 
 
 The lad stepped forward, and briefly narrated what had hap- 
 
 Ugh ! " said Matonaza after a pause ; " my brothers will con- 
 tinue their hunt. Let them keep hawk-eyes about them. Mato- 
 naza and the Roaming Panther," pointing to the runner who had 
 formerly gone with him to the Prince of Wales Fort, " will chase 
 the thieves who steal away women. Let us go ! " 
 
 Mark started to his feet, caught up his rifle, took a substantial 
 piece of deer's meat, and was ready in an instant to join them. A 
 few words passed between the chief and his people. He directed 
 them to proceed with their duties. He would send the women to 
 join them at once; and with Mark and the Roaming Panther, 
 he started on his chase of perhaps a thousand miles and more, 
 apparently as coolly as a European would have gone out for a walk. 
 
174 THE WHITE SWALLOW. 
 
 The evening of the third day found them at their village, where 
 they were received in respectful silence. Matonaza caused the old 
 men to tell the story of the White Swallow's abduction once more ; 
 and then, after bidding the whole party go join the hunters, retired 
 to rest with his two companions, bidding Mark sleep as long as he 
 possibly could. The chief did not rouse him till a late hour, after 
 he had himself tracked the trail of the Athapascows to a consid- 
 erable distance. They breakfasted heartily, and then each man, 
 with his gun, powder, and powder-horn, started on his way. The 
 chief led the van, his eye fixed on the trail of the party. He 
 pointed out to Mark the moccasin step of the young girl with a 
 grim smile. Mark was pained at the sadness of his expression, 
 but said nothing. 
 
 They with difficulty followed the trail along the arid plain which 
 the Athapascows had first hit upon, and, at one time, when the ground 
 was unusually hard, even lost it. The two Indians at once parted, 
 one to the right, the other to the left ; Mark, who was eager to 
 prove himself of use, looked anxiously about, and at last caused 
 the warriors to run to him. The white man pointed with a smile 
 to the hole in which the enemy had camped on the first night of 
 their flight. 
 
 " Good ! " said Matonaza, taking his hand ; " my brother has an 
 Indian eye." 
 
 And the journey was at once pursued without further comment. 
 As frequently as possible the party camped in the places where their 
 enemies had camped before them, as the chief was sure to find some 
 note of the White Swallow her footstep in the ashes near the fire ; 
 a mark where she had lain ; or, at all events, some almost invisible 
 sign of her existence. Every day, however, the warrior grew more 
 uneasy as he advanced towards the north. He began to suspect the 
 errand of the Athapascows. He knew, though only traditionally, 
 the terrible journey which must be performed ere the land of the 
 Esquimaux could be reached, and regarded it as almost impossible 
 that a young girl could outlive its hardships. Still on he went, 
 never dreaming of abandoning the chase never even alluding to 
 such an idea. He, however, increased the extent of their daily 
 march, though sometimes compelled to delay while seeking for food. 
 The wood, where the young men made their shields, confirmed him 
 in his belief as to their errand. 
 
 At night they hastily ate what food they had, and lay down to 
 sleep. No time was wasted in talking. Rest was all they required, 
 and it was to them of the utmost consequence. 
 
 "At this rate," said Mark, one day, when he found himself 
 
THE WHITE SWALLOW. 
 
 approaching the north more and more every hour, " we shall reach 
 the Icy Sea itself!" 
 
 " The White Swallow is on its borders," replied the chief, quietly. 
 
 And they proceeded on their journey. 
 
 They crossed the Rocky Mountains, here also strictly adhering to 
 the trail of the Athapascows, and were at no great distance from 
 the Coppermine River, when one night, at some distance on the 
 plain, they saw a small, low, flickering light. Their own fire was 
 composed of mere embers, but even these were hastily covered up. 
 Matonaza cast his eyes around. Not a tree, not a bush was there 
 to aid their approach, though the camp in the distance seemed to be 
 near a dark object, which looked like a stunted grove of trees. This 
 could not be, however, they having already passed, as they supposed, 
 the region in which trees are found. 
 
 The three men looked to their rifles, stooped low, and began to 
 crawl towards the distant fire on their hands and knees. The night 
 was pitchy dark. The sky was lowering, and threatened rain. The 
 low fire, scarcely distinguishable at times, was all that guided them. 
 Presently, however, its glare became more evident, and Matonaza 
 discovered that it was placed under the cover of some low trees 
 which grew on the borders of the Coppermine River. He could 
 now clearly distinguish a party of men sitting round the small fire 
 in the act of smoking ; and leaving his companions and his rifle*, 
 advanced unarmed, bidding them slowly reach a bank within pistol- 
 shot of the camp. He then began to writhe or slide along the 
 ground instead of crawling, moving a yard or two, and then stop- 
 ping to breathe or listen. In about ten minutes they saw him roll 
 himself behind the bushes of the camp. They saw no more, for a 
 strong ray of the moon peeped through a cloud, and they could no 
 longer raise their heads above the ground. They fell behind the low 
 bank agreed on, and waited. 
 
 Three quarters of an hour passed, and then Matonaza rejoined 
 them, using the same caution as before. He was out of breath with 
 his hard labor, for such it is to crawl along the ground like a snake, 
 never rising on the hands or knees. As soon as he could speak, he 
 told his companions in a whisper that these were the Athapascows 
 returning after a terrible foray among the Esquimaux. The White 
 Swallow, however, was not with them. They spoke of her absence 
 with regret, and as a severe disappointment, but how her absence 
 was occasioned he could not tell. Matonaza spoke in a tone which 
 was new to his white friend. He seemed husky, and his eyes glared 
 like those of a panther. The fearful excitement he had endured, 
 and his terrible awakening from a dream of happiness, all the greater 
 
176 THE WHITE SWALLOW. 
 
 from his half-European education, had almost driven every civilized 
 idea out of his head. 
 
 " Roaming Panther," said he to the Indian runner, " is thy rifle 
 ready?" 
 
 " What would my brother do ? " asked Dalton hurriedly. 
 
 " Kill my enemies ! " replied the warrior coldly. 
 
 " What ! skulking behind a bank ? " 
 
 " Warrior of the Pale Faces, hear my words ! Does a bear show 
 himself in the distance when lying in wait for his prey ? Does a 
 white warrior, when in ambush, give a signal ? We are three : the 
 Athapascow dogs are seven. Not one shall see the home of his 
 fathers : their squaws shall find other husbands. They have robbed 
 Matonaza of /MS squaw : they shall die ! " 
 
 A double report followed ; and then, as the Indians with a fear- 
 ful cry rose in the air to lie down again in the dark, the Little Snake, 
 as the handsome young chief was called, levelled and discharged 
 the rifle of his friend Dalton, who had declined to shoot at the unpre- 
 pared savages. 
 
 " I spit on ye, dogs of Athapascows ! " yelled the Little Snake as 
 they fired at random. "A Dog-ribbed chief will leave your bones 
 to bleach on the plains of the Icy Sea ! " 
 
 With these.words the three friends retreated, loading their rifles ; 
 and, wading across the river, concealed themselves in a low hollow, 
 and sought rest. Mark slept uneasily. The neighborhood of fierce 
 and bloody enemies, roused to desperation by recent losses, was far 
 from being pleasant ; and he was little surprised when, on rising in 
 the morning first amongst his party, a leaden bullet at once hit 
 the bank near him. He dropped down, and in an instant the whole 
 three were again prepared. The Athapascows, six in number 
 one had been killed were near a bush on the other side of the 
 river. They had just at daybreak tracked the Dog-ribbed Indians. 
 These fired, nor was Mark behind-hand ; and so fatal was their aim 
 that two warriors fell headlong into the river. The others, who 
 were not aware of the nature of rifles, introduced only by the chief 
 himself and Mark, flew to cover, astounded at the distance at which 
 they had been struck. The friends loaded, and pursued. The Ath- 
 apascows turned, and fled across the plain. 
 
 Matonaza gave vent to a low and scornful laugh. " Let them go 
 and boast to their women that their brothers were killed in terrible 
 fight. They are squaws and will tell of a battle with a hundred 
 warriors in their war-paint." 
 
 Mark at once added, that to follow them was to lose all trace of 
 the White Swallow, who was either a prisoner among the Esqui- 
 
THE WHITE SWALLOW. 177 
 
 maux, or hiding somewhere in the hollows of the hills, awaiting the 
 departure of their enemies. Besides, no time was to be lost, for the 
 winter was coming on, and all hope of finding her would vanish with 
 that season. 
 
 Matonaza replied by turning his back on the river, and searching 
 for the old trail of the party. They soon found the remains of a 
 fire, with bones of animals deer, &c., which had been recently 
 devoured, and thus continued their journey at some distance from 
 the banks of the Coppermine River. 
 
 THE ESQUIMAUX VILLAGE. 
 
 We left the White Swallow advancing towards the village of the 
 Esquimaux with her worthless companions. The race about to be 
 attacked, like most of the Esquimaux, were of small stature, and lit- 
 tle strength or beauty. They are very stout, copper-colored, and 
 in general ugly, though some of the women form exceptions. They 
 resemble all the tribe in dress, while their arms are bows and arrows, 
 lances and darts. They have canoes with double paddles, and tents 
 composed of deer-skins, with stone and ice huts for winter. Their 
 utensils are all of stone and wood, with spoons and bowls of buf- 
 falo horn. Their hatchets, pikes, and arrow-heads are of copper. 
 They are a poor, harmless race, who live by fishing and hunting, 
 whose sole riches consisted in a little copper they found near the 
 river thence called Coppermine River. 
 
 It was this unfortunate race who, from their helplessness and 
 weakness, had been selected as the fitting victims of the seven Ath- 
 apascow warriors. In this the red-skins only acted in accordance 
 with the true principles of war to respect the strong, and prey 
 upon the weak. The White Swallow remained behind on one occa- 
 sion while two scouts went out to scour the banks of the stream in 
 search of intelligence. They soon came back with the information, 
 that about fifteen miles distant were five tents of Esquimaux, so 
 placed as to be completely open to a surprise. It was then decided 
 that the attack should take place the following night. Meanwhile 
 they waded across'the river, to be on the same side as their wretched 
 victims. Here they halted to load their guns, furbish their lances, 
 and prepare their shields. 
 
 Every man set to work to paint his buckler one representing 
 
 the sun, the other the moon, others birds of prey and other animals, 
 
 with imaginary beings, fantastic human creatures, and beasts of all 
 
 kinds. They were all to serve as their protection during the com- 
 
 12 
 
J78 THE WHITE SWALLOW. 
 
 bat, their shields being at once " medicine." Even the White Swal- 
 low, who was used to their Indian customs, was puzzled to know the 
 meaning of half the rude drawings daubed with chalk and red 
 clay, as not one had any resemblance to anything in heaven or upon 
 earth. But, like the knights of chivalry, who scorned Jb write their 
 own names, and seldom could even read a love-letter, mese red-skin 
 paladins were quite satisfied that military glory was above all artistic 
 merit. They were but of the general opinion of mankind, who admire 
 far more the successful slayer of thousands than the man who can 
 achieve a splendid picture, a magnificent epic poem, or a great scien- 
 tific discovery. 
 
 The shield-painting being over, the party advanced, still following 
 the banks of the river strictly avoiding all eminences,' for fear of 
 being seen, and all speech, for fear of being heard. The way was 
 arduous and painful in the extreme. They fell upon swampy 
 marshes and muddy sloughs, in which they sunk above their knees. 
 But not a word was spoken, not a murmur or complaint given vent 
 to. A tall youth had been selected as leader of the band, and no 
 orchestra ever kept better time. They trod in each other's foot- 
 steps with the most praiseworthy unanimity ; and might, from their 
 silence, their gravity, their stiff, erect manner, have not inaptly been 
 compared to moving mummies. The White Swallow carried in a 
 bundle the whole of their provisions no inconsiderable weight, 
 as they desired not to halt an hour when their horrid surprise was 
 effected. 
 
 About a hundred yards from where they first caught sight of the 
 Esquimaux village they halted in council behind some rocks. It 
 was now late at night, and yet these savage warriors, not satisfied 
 with their martial air, now began to paint themselves anew. They 
 daubed their faces, with a horrid mixture of red and black on 
 one side with one color, the other with the other ; some tied their 
 hair in knots, others cut it entirely off. They then lightened them- 
 selves of every possible article of clothing, which they made up in 
 another bundle, and gave to the unfortunate girl to carry. 
 
 The moon now rose : it was midnight. The five tents of the 
 Esquimaux were situated close to the water's edge, within a half- 
 moon formed by some rocks that projected from a small eminence. 
 Before the tents lay the placid waters of the river, in the midst of 
 which was an island, or rather sandbank, and in the distance another 
 Esquimaux village, of larger dimensions than the present. The 
 Indians gave an " Ugh" of delight, for here was a second massacre 
 in view, and to these savage men nothing could afford a more charm- 
 ing prospect. 
 
THE WHITE SWALLOW. 179 
 
 They advanced slowly along the banks of the river, and when 
 within about twenty yards of the tents, halted ; and having tied 
 the feet of the White Swallow in such a way as she could by no pos- 
 sibility untiejierselfj-they rushed to their bloody work. To modern 
 readers, eveir of the details of recent wars, the unpardonable and 
 horrid details of the sack of a city must be familiar : man, woman, 
 and child, have all shuddered, we doubt not, over scenes almost too 
 fearful for belief scenes remaining forever as blots upon a civil- 
 ized and so-called Christian age. But for the benefit of those who 
 have adopted the notions of certain modern philosophers touching 
 the superior amiability and simplicity of the " man of nature," we 
 think it weli to give some account of the historical scene that was 
 once acted on the banks of the Coppermine. 
 
 The Esquimaux, on hearing the wild outcry of the red-skins, 
 started from their sleep, and rushed forth, men women, and chil- 
 dren, to escape; but their ruthless foes were at every issue, and 
 spears and tomahawks did their bloody work. The groans of the 
 wounded, the howls of the dying, the shrieks of the children, the 
 shrill yells of the women, were answered by the Athapascow war- 
 cry. As the herd of antelopes loses all instinct of self-preservation 
 before the awful roar of the African lion, and stands a while motion- 
 less, so these poor creatures no longer sought to fly or defend them- 
 selves. Not one raised his arm. Some wretched mothers covered 
 their offspring with their bodies only to die first. One young girl, 
 of singular beauty for an Esquimaux, caught the chief round the 
 legs : had he been alone, he would have probably saved her, to take 
 her to his wigwam. But the emulation of war was on him ; there 
 were his companions to see him hesitate ; and, quick as lightning, he 
 ran his spear through her. But enough : I spare details more fear- 
 ful still details which haunted the first historian and eye-witness 
 of this scene all his after life. 
 
 The White Swallow no sooner found herself alone, than, drawing 
 the knife she had formerly secreted from her bosom, she cut her 
 bonds, resolved as she was to lose no more time. This done, she 
 acted with all the coolness and reflection which became the affianced 
 bride of an Indian warrior. She watched the red-skins enter the 
 camp, and even let them commence their massacre. A dozen and 
 more dogs darted by, flying from the strangers. One of them 
 passed close to the White Swallow, and smelt her packet of meat. 
 She seized upon a leathern thong fastened round his neck, and threw 
 him food. The dog devoured it eagerly. The girl at once resolved 
 to appropriate the animal, for she knew his nature, having herself 
 been born on the confines of the Esquimaux territory. She fastened 
 
180 THE WHITE SWALLOW. 
 
 on his back the bundle belonging to the Indians, and then gliding 
 gently and noiselessly into the water, began to swim. The dog 
 quietly followed her, attracted by her store of provisions. The girl 
 was a good and powerful swimmer ; but she proceeded slowly, though 
 tha noise of the sack of the village might have excused<fcven want of 
 caution. But Thee-kis-ho was too much of an Indian to neglect any 
 precautions. Once landed on the opposite bank, she lay down to 
 watch the end of the scene ; at some distance, however, from the 
 shore, and well screened from view. 
 
 As soon as the Esquimaux village lay in the stillness of death, 
 and not even an infant remained, the Athapascows ran down to the 
 bank to fire at the men of the other village, who stood stupidly gaz- 
 ing from across the water at the massacre of their brethren. They 
 did not even stir when the leaden bullets fell among them, until one 
 of their party received a flesh wound, when all crowded round him, 
 examined the place in amazement, and then leaping into their canoes, 
 hurried to the distant island, which, being surrounded by deep water, 
 could be easily defended against swimmers with hatchets and bows 
 and arrows. 
 
 The White Swallow waited to see no more. The dawn was now 
 breaking in the eastern sky, and her position would speedily become 
 dangerous. Casting her eyes about her to select the best road, she 
 distinguished, a little way up the river, some one seated within a 
 little cove fishing. She hesitated, for time was precious ; but her 
 goodness of heart prevailed. Giving the dog another piece of meat, 
 she left him in guard of her packets, and tripped rapidly down to 
 the water's edge. She had her knife, and feared no Esquimaux. 
 As she approached, she discovered that it was an old woman, deaf, 
 and nearly blind, who had been fishing for salmon by moonlight. 
 The fish were seven or eight pounds in weight, and strewed the bank. 
 The old Esquimaux had a line with several hooks to it, and caught 
 fish almost as fast as she -could throw, they being almost as plentiful 
 as in Kamtchatka. The White Swallow laid her hand on her arm. 
 The old woman started. The young girl, who knew one or two 
 words of her language, just said, "Indians kill all that side 
 seven tents on island." The unfortunate old creature just caught 
 the word " Indians ;" that was enough for her. She cast line and 
 fish at the girl's feet, and, mumbling her thanks, fled. 
 
 The White Swallow took as much of the fish as she could carry, 
 and the line and hooks, almost believing that the Manitou had thrown 
 them expressly in her way. This done, she rejoined her dog, and, 
 taking him by the thong, led him away as fast as she could walk in 
 the direction she presumed to be the right one. She never paused 
 
THE WHITE SWALLOW. 181 
 
 or halted until the mid-day sun warmed her almost more than was 
 pleasant. Then she ate, and gave food also to her dog. He greed- 
 ily devoured a fish weighing eight pounds, and appeared most affec- 
 tionately disposed to his new mistress. The girl made much of 
 him, far more than he had been used to ; and the poor animal, better 
 fed and better lodged than usual, fawned at her feet like an old and 
 faithful servant. 
 
 That fear renders man, and woman too, fleet in their motions, is a 
 received and proverbial tenet ; nor did the White Swallow differ in 
 this from the rest of the human race. She shuddered at the pros- 
 pect of falling again into the hands of the Athapascow Indians. 
 She had seen the massacre of the Esquimaux, and knew well what 
 would be her own fate if caught. No torture that fiendish revenge 
 could devise would be considered enough to punish her for her escape. 
 On she went again, therefore, despite that she was weary and sore- 
 footed, until she hit about dark on a small river, falling, she sup- 
 posed, into the Coppermine. 
 
 Here, under a bush, she resolved to pass the night. She fed the 
 dog plentifully, cast her line into the river, and then, without mak- 
 ing any fire, nestled near the huge animal, and went to sleep. 
 Despite her dangers and her fears, Thee-kis-ho slept soundly, even 
 until after the sun had long risen. When she awoke, she found Esqui- 
 maux, as she called him, looking good-naturedly at her, in expecta- 
 tion partly no doubt of his morning meal. She at once satisfied him, 
 and found three fish on the hooks. But she herself ate only the 
 dried venison of her packet, which was still heavy, for she had never 
 yet eaten raw fish, and dared not make fire. 
 
 WANDERINGS AND SUFFERINGS. 
 
 Cast upon her own resources, without a man to advise or command 
 her, the Indian girl had to perform the rather unusual task of hold- 
 ing council with herself. She at once made up her mind to intense 
 sufferings and complicated dangers, though she had still doubts of 
 ultimate success. She was a vast distance from home she could 
 only guess the direction ; the season was getting advanced ; and if 
 surprised by the winter, her absence, if she perished not, would be 
 of more than a year's -duration. She had, it is true, a dog, a knife, 
 and a fishing-line. This was much. On the other hand, she had 
 to cross tihe Rocky Mountains, and not by the same path she had 
 come, for doubtless the Athapascows would lie in wait for her some 
 time in the only usual path. Without arms, without weapons, she 
 
182 THE WHITE SWALLOW. 
 
 must provide for herself and dog. And yet she despaired not. 
 She was an Indian girl, and her prairie education was of a finished 
 character. 
 
 Her first thought was to hurry towards the mountains. The 
 stream, near which she passed the night, seemed to trend in that 
 direction. The White Swallow was not without fear of being fol- 
 lowed ; she accordingly swam across, and left obvious tracks on the 
 bank, as if she had forded the river. Then loading herself and dog, 
 she walked in the water on a rocky shelf, that gradually brought 
 her back to the other side. She then stepped out, without fear of 
 leaving a trail upon the hard bank. For two days did she advance, 
 and then her provisions began to run short ; her dog and herself 
 consumed a great deal during a daily walk of twelve hours. Thee- 
 kis-ko ordered a halt ; and while trying her fortune with her line in 
 a small lake, sat down beside the water, and while watching the 
 fishing-tackle, began to construct with deer's sinews, which formed 
 a part of her dress, and some hairs from the dog's tail, those simple 
 snares and nets that produce such wonderful results in a country 
 abounding in game. 
 
 They were set at some distance as soon as ready ; and the next 
 morning two wild partridges and a rabbit rewarded the girl's inge- 
 nuity. These, with some fish, gave Thee-kis-ho the hope of being 
 able to provide for herself and canine attendant. The Indian traps 
 and snares are very simple. To catch some animals, a trunk of a 
 tree is so arranged, that at the least touch it falls, and kills or 
 secures the animal by its weight. The partridge-traps are, however, 
 very ingenious. A small piece of ground is partitioned off with 
 little palisades and switches near a willow-tree, the favorite resort 
 of the bird. Some openings are left between the diminutive 
 stockades, and in these openings are little nets; when the par- 
 tridges come leaping about in search of food, they fail not to be 
 taken in dozens. 
 
 Three partridges and some other birds rewarded the second day's 
 efforts of the White Swallow, and as her line also brought her fish, 
 she once more felt hope. On the following morning she again 
 started with renewed vigor, keeping her eyes fixed on the hills she 
 had to cross. She soon found herself ascending ; and, according to 
 the habits of her education in the wilderness, followed the course 
 of a small torrent in search of an opening in the hills. Her pro- 
 visions were not abundant, and both herself and dog were placed 
 upon rigid allowance. The third day after her halt she readied 
 the mountains, and began their ascent. Without path, along rough 
 and rugged rocks, her advance at times completely barred, forced to 
 
THE WHITE SWALLOW. 183 
 
 descend and reascond, resting in hollows of the hills, eating small 
 and scanty portions of food, still the heart of the Indian girl never 
 failed her. She was young, full of hope and love ; and on she went, 
 though her moccasins were worn and torn, and her feet bled upon 
 the rocks. 
 
 Winding, turning, twisting, retreating, it took her more than 
 three days to reach the summit of the hills, and her poor pittance 
 of food was now nearly gone. She sat down on the arid crest of a 
 hill, and gazed upon the plains below upon those plains which 
 contained her country and her home. She saw for fifty miles the 
 great prairie wilderness lying like a map before her, with its rivers 
 and its lakes, its eminences and its levels ; and her heart sunk within 
 her as she felt the chill blast of autumn in that lofty region. Start- 
 ing to her feet, she descended, and after a day's severe fatigue, some- 
 times walking, sometimes sliding, sometimes actually rolling down a 
 slope of the mountain, she reached the bottom, and camped in a lit- 
 tle clump of pines. 
 
 A pool rather than a lake was at hand ; and at one end of it she 
 fixed her line and nets, and at the other she and Esquimaux bathed 
 with delight after their rude and continued fatigues. The dog was 
 as pleased as herself to find himself out of the hills, and testified his 
 pleasure by rolling like a mad thing on the bank, after he had for 
 fiome time splashed in the water. Suddenly Thee-kis-ho seemed to 
 listen attentively : a crackling noise was heard in the bushes. She 
 crouched almost under water, amid some tall reeds agitated by the 
 evening breeze, dragging the dog with her. At the same instant a 
 tall horned deer leaped madly into the water, as if jaded by the 
 chase which had been given him by a pack of hungry wolves. 
 The White Swallow hesitated not an instant. She knew that in 
 the water a wearied deer was a sure prey. Plunging toward him, 
 just as the dog was at his throat, the bold girl, before the noble 
 beast was aware of his new danger, had mortally wounded him 
 with her knife, which she always carried by her side. 
 
 The unfortunate animal made scarcely any defence, and was drawn 
 bo the shore to die without a struggle. Thee-kis-ho now bethought 
 herself of her danger. Death was certain if the wolves surprised 
 her in any force. She knew of but one remedy, and that was a 
 huge fire. Two flints formed part of the Indian baggage which 
 she had been given to carry. These she drew from her bundle, and 
 taking a portion of dry Spanish moss from a tree, with some fungi 
 lying about, she began striking the flints together. Few were the 
 sparks that followed, but presently the moss, which is very inflam- 
 mable and which I have often used to light a fire by discharging 
 
184 THE WHITE SWALLOW. 
 
 a loose wadding from a gun took fire, and, by waving it gently 
 backwards and forwards, a flame ensued. Plenty of branches, and 
 even trunks of trees, lay about ; and the girl soon found herself 
 with a blazing heap. The fire was made in a cleared nook shel- 
 tered by trees, and, the night being dark, there was no danger of the 
 smoke being seen. But the wolves came ' not ; some other prey 
 must have attracted them, or they must have lost the scent. 
 
 Convinced by this, Thee-kis-ho let her fire fall low, and proceeded 
 to skin and cut up the deer, which, perhaps the only animal of the 
 kind she had any chance of mastering, was a perfect treasure. Flesh, 
 skin, sinews, intestines, bones, all were valuable, furnishing food, 
 clothing, thread, materials for snares and nets. The animal was 
 quite dead ; and the Indian girl, who had in the last two months 
 learned much, proceeded to her task quietly. Some portions were 
 prepared for immediate use, the rest laid aside for the future. 
 
 Though she had seldom, in her home on the Mabasha Water, 
 assisted in domestic duties, she had observed, and knew everything 
 that could be made of the animal. Tired as she was, she scraped 
 and cleaned the skin, and rubbed it well with grease to soften it. 
 She then cooked her first hot meal since her flight, examined her 
 nets and line, and, after amply feeding the dog, lay down to rest. 
 She slept more than twelve hours, and rose much refreshed. She 
 had now a large bundle to carry, and far to go with it ; but she 
 abandoned nothing. She loaded herself and her dog with the 
 whole of the precious property, and then once more she started on 
 her way. 
 
 But now she found herself in a maze of woods, and lakes, and 
 rivers, but could not tell her road. She was alarmed, for the season 
 was far advanced, and in that high latitude winter was near. Still 
 she advanced with courage and energy, though not recognizing one 
 of the places she had seen on coming away from home. 
 
 One day she found herself in a thick and gloomy wood. She walked 
 with her dog disconsolately along a track evidently left by the buffalo, 
 ignorant of the direction she was taking, and lost in gloomy reflections 
 The darkness of the trees, the heavy atmosphere, the weariness of her 
 feet and frame, her failing hope, had much changed the poor girl ; 
 and she felt by the wind and the air, and she saw by the sky, that 
 winter was rapidly approaching. 
 
 Suddenly she gave a shriek as she emerged from the wood upon a 
 small, green, and grassy plot. Before her, as far as the eye could 
 reach, to the right, to the left, in front, lay the waters of a vast 
 inland sea, dotted here and there by small islands. Thee-kis-ho 
 looked anxiously around ; for she knew herself to be on the great 
 
THE WHITE SWALLOW. 185 
 
 Lake of the Woods, where dwelt, said tradition, a warlike and 
 mighty race. But all was still save the waving of the pine, the 
 poplar, and the larch, and the beating of the waves of the sea upon 
 the pebbly shore. The Indian girl stood still, musing. Was she 
 still in the land of reality, or was this the promised place to which 
 all the brave and good went after death ? Her hesitation was 
 momentary ; and then other thoughts came upon her. 
 
 It was now impossible to reach home that year, and the heart of 
 the White Swallow beat confusedly and almost despairingly within 
 her. Should she live throughout the severe season, alone, without 
 hunting implements, without a hut, without needful clothing ? But 
 even if she did get through the winter, would she, when the birds 
 came again, and nature was green and gay, and the trees put on 
 their bridal clothing, and the earth sent forth perfume, and the 
 dew hung like crystal on the trees, and the sun danced merrily on 
 the waters, and the flowers awoke from their sleep should she 
 still find her affianced husband without a bride ? The Indian girl 
 was alone, none could see her shame, and she bowed her head and 
 wept. 
 
 But better thoughts soon prevailed, and Thee-kis-ho began to pre- 
 pare for her long, and cold, and dreary winter on the shores of the 
 great Lake of the Woods. 
 
 WINTER. 
 
 The Indian girl stood like our first parents when chased from 
 Paradise homeless, houseless, almost without raiment, food, or 
 tools, and with everything to be provided by the labor of her own 
 hands. She began by walking along the borders of the lake, until 
 she came to where a small rivulet fell into the great inland sea, and 
 here she cast her fishing-lines, reinforced by many a new hook made 
 from the bones of the deer. Then she set at some distance, and in 
 various places, all her traps. This done, she thought of her hut. 
 A large tree, the boughs of which began to project at some distance 
 from the ground, was selected as the main-stay. Against this the 
 tallest and stoutest branches she could find, with some drift-wood, 
 were leant, so as to form a kind of tent. Other boughs were laid 
 on so thick, one upon the other, that the whole took the aspect of a 
 mere accidental wood-heap. It was rude and shapeless, but it was 
 weatherproof, and that was enough for the wants of a homeless 
 Indian. Thee-kis-ho's deer-skin was as yet her only bedding, but 
 
186 THE WHITE SWALLOW. 
 
 now that she had fixed her abode, she hoped to succeed better as a 
 trapper, arid so add to the wealth of her wardrobe. 
 
 It was late at night when this her first and almost her most 
 important task was completed. But she stopped not until it was 
 concluded. Then she lay down to rest beside her dog, and took the 
 first sleep she had had under cover for nearly three months. At 
 dawn she rose to recommence her arduous labors. Food must be 
 found, prepared, and preserved for nearly the whole winter, now 
 approaching with terrible strides. She found the lake full of fish, 
 and every moment she could spare from setting and resetting her 
 traps, was devoted to fishing. While waiting for the arrival of a 
 hard frost, which she knew would set in in the course of a few days, 
 she looked about her. A portion of the lake formed a small pond 
 off the rivulet, with an entrance not five feet across, and about two 
 feet deep. As soon as she caught her fish, which she did as fast 
 as she could throw her lines, she cast them into this pond, having 
 first made a dam by throwing branches and stones into the narrow 
 channel, which left ample passage for water, but none for the escape 
 of the trout, pike, and other large fish of the lake, which, like that 
 of Athapascow, is renowned for the abundance and size of its finny 
 inhabitants. 
 
 Wading in the water, provided with a stick, a rude bark-net, and 
 her dog, she could always re-catch them at will. Every day, too, 
 she added to the numbers of rabbits, partridges, and squirrels which 
 she caught in her traps ; and, while roaming about the woods with 
 Esquimaux, she, on one occasion, by his aid, caught a porcupine. 
 One day, too, she hit upon a small beaver dam, and captured sev- 
 eral of these sagacious animals. Presently, however, the snow began 
 to fall in heavy flakes, and Thee-kis-ho found herself in winter. All 
 her fish were at once taken out of the water, and placed in a position 
 where they were freely exposed to the cold. The next day the whole 
 country was covered with a thick coat of snow, and the fish were 
 frozen hard. 
 
 The change in the weather by no means changed the industrious 
 habits of the young White Swallow. A part of the day was spent 
 in making herself warm clothes with her rabbit, beaver, and squirrel 
 gkins ; and, though alone, they were made with all the elegance of 
 which she was capable, for she was still a woman. Then she cast 
 her lines, taking care, now the cold was come ; to drop them in deep 
 places, while she found employment every day for hours in mend- 
 ing old and making new traps. Then to make a fire in the morn- 
 ing, when she had not kept the embers alive all night, was a 
 waste of time and labor, for the moss was damp, and would not 
 
THE WHITE SWALLOW. 187 
 
 burn ; but Thee-kis-ho soon took care to have a supply of tinder in 
 the shape of fuugi, which she dried by a warm fire, and hung up in 
 her hut. 
 
 She had, at first at all events, plenty of food. The little animals 
 she caught, famished and hungry, snapped greedily at the baits 
 offered them, and rarely did a day pass without its due proportion 
 of prey. Furs became plentiful ; and as the cold became more 
 severe, the Indian girl not only clothed herself with them, but 
 made bed-coverings, and lined the inside tf the tent. Her fire, 
 despite the smoke, was made, according to the fashion of her tribe, 
 in her tent ; the acrid vapor escaping by a little opening in the sum- 
 mit, and by the narrow door. A small fire was quite sufficient both 
 for cooking and warmth. 
 
 The next labor undertaken by the White Swallow was making 
 herself a pair of snow-shoes with which to take exercise. Without 
 them walking became painful. At one time she thought of con- 
 structing a sledge, and on setting out towards the Mabasha, with her 
 dog dragging a load of provisions ; but the doubtful nature of the 
 enterprise made her at once give it up, and resolve on waiting the 
 return of the warm summer 'season. From tradition and report, 
 she believed she knew pretty well her whereabouts, and regarded 
 the journey before her next year as of little consequence. 
 
 Still the young girl felt some desponding emotions. Continued 
 solitude may have its charms for the melancholy and misanthropical, 
 but the young and hopeful long for the society of their fellows, and 
 for communion with the world. It is- true that Thee-kis-ho had 
 both ample occupation and dumb society ; but I believe few young 
 ladies will deny, that however constantly their fingers might be 
 employed, and however faithful a companion their dog might be, 
 they would pretty nearly always like the addition of some conver- 
 sational associate ; and not the less if this associate were an agreeable 
 man. The loving and faithful Indian girl never had Matonaza out 
 of her thoughts she dreamed of him at night, she thought of him 
 by day, and during every occupation found him present to her imag- 
 ination. 
 
 At break of day she would rise and light or trim her fire, before 
 which some meat or fish was then set to cook. Then she went down 
 to the lake to look at her lines, until such time as the edge of the 
 water froze hard, when fishing ceased, for she had no nets with 
 which to try her fortune under the ice. Her land-nets were, how- 
 ever, always a source of employment, and generally of profit, for the 
 winter game was abundant round the lake. Then she returned to 
 the hut to cook her breakfast, and feed her dog, an animal now more 
 
188 THE WHITE SWALLOW. 
 
 useful as a companion than as a servant. This done, she sat within 
 her tent by a fire of hot embers, and near a narrow loophole admit- 
 ting light, adding daily to her wardrobe, until the dead of winter 
 arrived, when she had no choice but to take exercise on her snow- 
 shoes, or to lie in darkness in her hut, hermetically closed against 
 the air. 
 
 Still she repined not, for time passed rapidly with her ; the mid- 
 dle of winter was now come, and every hour brought her nearer the 
 period when, on the wiftgs of affection and hope, she would hasten 
 towards the village of her youth, her affections, and her future joys. 
 The innocent and warm-hearted girl never doubted her affianced 
 husband's truth and affection ; and if a suspicion came across her 
 that he might have found one to take her place, and cause her to 
 be forgotten, she speedily drove such gloomy images away. 
 
 The worst of the winter was now past, but not the difficulties and 
 sufferings of our heroine. During the bitter cold of December and 
 January she scarcely made any captures, while the appetites of her- 
 self and her dog remained always the same. She therefore saw her 
 store of fish and frozen game almost completely consumed, while in 
 three days one solitary bird would alone reward her efforts. The 
 cold, too, was intense ; and one day, more damp and disagreeable 
 than usual, her hot embers went out during the night, and the tin- 
 der she had preserved would not light. 
 
 The poor girl was driven to eat raw and frozen fish, and to take 
 violent exercise on her snow-shoes. That night, but for her dog 
 and her furs, she would have been frozen to ^death. Next day 
 her efforts were not more fortunate ; and, seriously alarmed at this 
 accident, Thee-kis-ho was almost inclined to give way to despair. 
 
 Five days passed without fire, and the Indian girl began to fear 
 to go to sleep lest a severer cold than usual might chill her limbs. 
 One morning, after eating her miserable, cold, and wretched pit- 
 tance, and endeavoring to get fire from her broken flints, the White 
 Swallow went out to walk, when two startling sights arrested her 
 attention. It was blowing a smart breeze on the lake, and yet, in 
 the distance, three canoes full of Indians were paddling smartly, as 
 if making their way from some of the islands of the centre towards 
 a prominent point of land to the left. On this point there was a 
 fire, giving more smoke than was usually the case under the circum- 
 stances in the woods. The White Swallow at once conjectured that 
 her own obscure position in the depth of a bay, and the fact that 
 her fire was always made amid very tall trees, and of a moderate 
 eize, had alone together with the intervention of an island pretty 
 
THE WHITE SWALLOW. 189 
 
 thickly wooded, at the mouth of the bay protected her from dis- 
 agreeable visits. 
 
 There was danger in the journey, but Thee-kis-ho at once deter- 
 mined on venturing across to the fire, to pick there some hot brands 
 with which to relight her own, but in a very small and cautious way. 
 She surmised that if the fire was made by persons hostile to the 
 party in the canoe, a fight and a chase would ensue* when her efforts 
 would be practicable enough. Then the fear came on her of leaving 
 a trail, which some of them might hit upon, and trace her to her hut. 
 This made her use extreme caution. She eagerly retreated within 
 the shelter of the new clad trees, and thence watched. 
 
 The smoke of the fire became now very thick, and the canoes 
 reached the land. There were some dozen warriors or more, and 
 after one or two had plunged into the thicket, to examine, as she 
 supposed, what the foe was, the rest stood still. In a few minutes 
 they were called to join their companions, in a way which showed 
 that the fire was abandoned, or that those around it were found. 
 Then two men burst from the thicket, leaped .into the first canoe, 
 cast the others adrift, and paddled away. 
 
 A yell, distinctly heard by the Indian girl, then arose, and the 
 warriors came rushing back. One of them easily caught a canoe, 
 which had been checked by some ice, and the whole party again 
 betook themselves to the water in chase of the fugitives. These 
 made for the island nearest to the White Swallow's lonely hut, and 
 were speedily lost behind it. In ten minutes more the others were 
 equally so ; and Thee-kis-ho saw no more. 
 
 The young girl was now seriously alarmed. She was in the very 
 centre, it appeared, of some battle-ground of those who could not 
 but be enemies to her, and it would be a strange chance if they did 
 not hit upon her humble dwelling, in which case all her efforts and 
 heroic fortitude would have availed her nothing : so she returned not 
 to the Mabasha, it little mattered what Indian called her his squaw. 
 Filled with alarm, and allowing all kinds of gloomy ideas to prey 
 upon her, the White Swallow returned to her hut, now so buried in 
 the snow as to resemble, rather, a snow-heap than a wigwam, and, 
 hiding herself under her fur coverlids, sought to collect her 
 thoughts. All her reflections, however, produced no very satisfac- 
 tory result, and she soon fell fast asleep. Suddenly an angry growl 
 from her dog alarmed her : she awoke with a violent start ; the door 
 of the hut was opened, and the face of an Indian warrior peered in 
 upon the darkness. 
 
 The White Swallow lay motionless. She discovered that it was 
 
190 THE WHITE SWALLOW, 
 
 night, and that the moon had risen, and that she could see and not 
 be seen. Then she started up. 
 
 " Matonaza ! " she cried. 
 
 " Thee-kis-ho ! " replied the Indian. 
 
 The young warrior looked behind him : no one was near : and, 
 giving way to the native impulses of his heart, he passionately 
 embraced his affianced wife. The dog at once ceased growling, and 
 the lovers were soon sheltered from the piercing cold under cover 
 of the hut. 
 
 THE LOVER'S SEARCH. 
 
 Matonaza, Mark Dalton, and the Roaming Panther, continued on 
 their way without stopping until they reached the scene of the already 
 narrated Esquimaux massacre. No one had approached its precincts 
 since the departure of the Athapascows, and tents and dead bodies 
 all lay in horrid confusion. The corpses were eagerly examined, 
 but the White Swallow was not among them. At all events, then, 
 she had not been killed in the fray. This was a source of prodigious 
 relief to the whole party. A council was held, Mark Dalton inclin- 
 ing to the opinion that the girl had been captured by some of the 
 other Esquimaux, while the chief believed her to be returning on 
 her way alone. But should the idea of his pale-faced friend be 
 correct, it was necessary to examine into the circumstance at once, 
 as it was easier to make these inquiries now, than after a long and 
 arduous search. 
 
 They accordingly ascended the rocky eminence above the huts, 
 and gazed around. The seven tents were before them, and some 
 smoke seemed to evince that they were inhabited. It was neces- 
 sary to cross the river to hold communion with them, but it was 
 dangerous to show themselves in a way which might terrify those 
 who had witnessed so dreadful a massacre. It was agreed that the 
 Roaming Panther, who was a splendid swimmer, and knew a little of 
 the Esquimaux dialect, should venture across alone, and under 
 cover of the unerring rifles of the two friends. He accordingly 
 plunged into the water, and in a very short time stood upon the 
 opposite bank unarmed, and. shouting a welcome to the copper- 
 colored race. 
 
 The inhabitants of the huts rushed out in great alarm, which 
 subsided when they saw one unarmed man before them. The 
 Roaming Panther walked into the middle of the group, speaking 
 with extreme volubility, and pointing, with signs of horror, to the 
 
THE WHITE SWALLOW. 191 
 
 scene of the late terrible catastrophe. The Esquimaux stood round 
 him in timid wonder ; but, after about ten minutes, his eloquence 
 seemed to prevail, and one of the men, entering a canoe, moved 
 towards the two friends. The savage, it was quite clear, was very 
 uneasy at first, but he appeared more tranquil as he came near and 
 distinguished the friendly gestures of the strangers. 
 
 In ten minutes more the three wanderers were the guests of 
 the poor northern aborigines, who received them with extreme hos- 
 pitality. There could be little conversation when the chief and the 
 runner only knew a few sentences ; but, such as it was, it was wholly 
 about the event of the hour the slaughter of the neighboring fam- 
 ily. Matonaza easily discovered that the Esquimaux knew their 
 enemies to be seven in number, and immediately made signs that 
 they had killed three of them. The Esquimaux looked uneasy 
 at this for a moment ; but reflecting, no doubt, that if .killing was 
 the trade of these, also, they would have commenced shooting fire 
 at them from the other side, they became gradually calmer. Then 
 the Little Snake drew the conversation to a young girl of his 
 tribe, whom the Athapascows had stolen away, and who was yet not 
 with them. 
 
 One of the men nodded his head, and pointed to a half-deaf, 
 half-blind old woman, who sat in a corner. Matonaza looked puz- 
 zled, but waited. The Esquimaux bawled in her ear, and the hag 
 began to mumble something, which the other spoke over again more 
 clearly. It was to the effect that a young girl, sweet in speech, 
 and beautiful as an angel, had warned her, whilst fishing, of the 
 presence of the Indians, but had been no more seen. This was 
 enough for Matonaza, who, after some further cross-questioning, and 
 a careful examination of the neighborhood, discovered that, six days 
 before, the White Swallow had got the start of him on her way 
 home. 
 
 But for ten days previously they had pushed on with such haste, 
 as to be worn, with fatigue, almost to death, being likewise half- 
 starved, and without moccasins. A good day's rest, and food, and 
 new shoes, were indispensable. They therefore accepted, from the 
 good-natured Esquimaux, a supply of fish, and a tent, and disposed 
 themselves to eat, rest, and make shoes, having saved some deer- 
 skin pieces for the purpose. It was only after a day and two nights' 
 rest that they felt themselves able to renew their journey ; but then 
 they started with energy, strength, and hope. Their new friends 
 parted from them with good wishes, and an expression of regret thai 
 all red-skins were not so pacific. 
 
 It was now necessary to follow the trail of the young girl with 
 
192 THE WHITE SWALLOW. 
 
 extreme caution. Fortunately, it was clear and obvious enough at 
 first, though all were puzzled about the animal which accompanied 
 the White Swallow. It was clearly a large dog ; but how she 
 jame by so unexpected a friend was somewhat difficult to conjec- 
 ture. All parties, however, were soon at fault. The river was 
 reached where Thee-kis-ho had hidden her trail, and it now became 
 requisite to be, according to the words of the chief, " all eye." The 
 Roaming Panther followed one bank of the stream, while Mark and 
 Matonaza followed the other, for a long time in vain. The bank was 
 hard and rocky, or pebbly, and not a trace of the Indian girl was to 
 be found. 
 
 " Ugh ! " said the young chief, suddenly. 
 
 They were standing near a stunted bush, and there, on the ground, 
 were some faint traces of a camp, with some fish-bones, abandoned by 
 the dog. The party halted, and, after a few words of congratulation, 
 supped on a couple of wild rabbits and a partridge, all the results of 
 the day's chase, cooked by means of the stunted branches and trunk 
 of the bush. It began now to be very cold ; and when the trio in 
 their turn commenced ascending the gully by which Thee-kis-ho 
 crossed the Rocky Mountains, the blast blew chill and keen. Here, 
 too, in these stony hills, they lost all trace of the girl. 
 
 From that hour, indeed, the trail was wholly lost to them. So 
 much time was consumed in hunting for it, in looking for provisions, 
 and in roaming hither and thither, that the snow overtook them 
 before they had passed the lake where the young girl had killed the 
 deer. It became almost useless to proceed, and yet the chief resolved 
 on continuing the search. A hut was erected, a fire made, and then 
 the three men parted in search of game one remaining near the 
 camp on the look-out for small birds, the others going hither and 
 thither, in the hope of falling on more noble prey. This was done 
 for a week, during which, right and left, every place where a hut 
 could be hid was examined : then the camp was moved a few miles 
 further south, and the same plan resumed. 
 
 This was continued with various fortune for some time, until one 
 day they found themselves camped near a large wood without pro- 
 visions, weary, hungry, and cold. A council was held, and it was 
 agreed that Mark and the Roaming Panther on the one hand, and 
 Matonaza on the other, should start once more in chase of elk and 
 buffalo, and that the first that met with good fortune should give the 
 other notice. 
 
 Matonaza moved about in various directions in moody silence. 
 The young chief had, in his own mind, given up all hope of finding 
 the beloved White Swallow, whom he imagined the prey of some 
 
THE WHITE SWALLOW. 193 
 
 Bavage wild beast, or of Indians as ruthless. He moved along, 
 brooding on revenge, on some terrible and sudden foray into the 
 land of the Athapascows, and yet his eye was cast about in search 
 of game. Presently the forest grew less dense, and the young 
 chief soon found himself in the open air beside the vast lake already 
 alluded to. The warrior paused, for never had he seen waters so 
 vast. He gazed curiously around, and then followed the banks for 
 some time : but all in vain ; not , a trace of game did he find. 
 Weary and hungry, he turned his steps back towards the camp, and 
 reached the spot where he had first come out upon the lake. He 
 passed it, and pursued his way still further along the shore, which 
 was frozen hard as far out as the water was shallow. 
 
 The Indian now came in sight of the fire seen by Thee-kis-ho in 
 the morning, hitherto masked from his view by the island already 
 alluded to. He knew this to be the signal given by his friends that 
 they had found game, and hurried his steps. Suddenly he halted. 
 A rabbit in its milk-white winter coat lay struggling at his feet, and 
 yet not running away. The animal was caught in a snare made by 
 human hands. The chief bounded like a stricken deer ; his eyes 
 flashed; and then, after killing the animal, and casting it over his 
 shoulder, he began moving along the bank. Another and another 
 snare fell under his notice, and then steps in the snow those of a 
 woman and a dog steps of that day, of that hour ! 
 
 Matonaza stood for an instant leaning on his rifle ; for, though an 
 Indian and a warrior, he was a man, and young. He was not insen- 
 sible to gentle emotions, and he loved the girl with all the warmth of 
 a generous and unsophisticated heart that had never loved before. 
 Then he looked around, his eyes glaring like those of the tiger about 
 to spring ; and he caught sight of the hut, or rather of the snow-pile 
 which hid it. The door was clearly defined. He stood by it, he 
 raised it : the rest has been already told. 
 
 STRANGE EVENTS. 
 
 For some quarter of an hour they gave themselves up to the joy 
 of this unexpected and happy meeting. The warrior then listened 
 with charmed ears to the recital of the events which had preceded 
 the arrival of the White Swallow at her winter camp. Surprise, 
 pride, and satisfaction, filled the young man's heart, as each day's 
 adventure showed how admirably the girl had conducted herself, and 
 how fit she was to be the bride of a chief. She spoke briefly, but 
 clearly, and the event of the day soon formed the topic of discourse. 
 13 
 
194 THE WHITE SWALLOW. 
 
 When Thee-kis-ho spoke of the flight of two men from the fire, Ma- 
 tonaza became much moved. 
 
 " My friends are prisoners," he said gravely, and then bade her 
 go on. 
 
 But the White Swallow ceased speaking, and waited to hear the 
 narrative of her future lord and master. 
 
 The young chief reflected a moment, and asked for something 
 to eat. But the girl had nothing but raw fish and the rabbit, and 
 no fire. 
 
 " Ugh ! " exclaimed Matonaza, as he heard that she had had no 
 fire for five or six days ; "let us go." 
 
 The White Swallow rose, took a good supply of fish, with the 
 rabbit, and followed the Little Snake, who led the way through the 
 wood towards the camp where he had left his companions. All was 
 calm and still. The lake, which had been agitated, was quiescent, 
 and the wind had fallen. A quarter of an hour's quick walking 
 through the forest brought them in sight of the fire. It remained 
 untouched, as also the hut of boughs and fallen trunks that had been 
 erected on the previous night. They at once drew the half-scat- 
 tered embers together, and a few upright and transversed sticks 
 served as a gridiron for the fish. The rabbit was also put to roast. 
 No alarm was expected but from the lake ; and an occasional glance 
 at the water, by a walk of a dozen yards with the dog, rendered a 
 surprise unlikely. An elk, and the guns of both Mark and the Roam- 
 ing Panther, were found in the hut. The enemy had followed them 
 so rapidly, they had no time to inquire into the spoil which might be 
 found in the camp. 
 
 Matonaza gazed with speaking eye and affectionate mien at the 
 young girl as she moved about preparing their meal. He smiled 
 grimly as she offered him the meat when ready, without offering to 
 take any herself. But he drew her on to the log beside him, and 
 bade her eat. The White Swallow laughingly obeyed, and they 
 ate together. It was the sweetest repast either had tasted for 
 many a long day. When they had done, it was pitchy dark, and 
 the young warrior at once went down to the shore, and in the cold, 
 and ice, and snow, began to make a raft. Plenty of logs, and 
 boughs, arid withes were to be found ; and in an hour Indian 
 ingenuity had succeeded in manufacturing a very solid construc- 
 tion. Then both stepped into it, with the three guns, leaving the 
 dog behind. 
 
 The chief turned the somewhat awkward vessel towards the island 
 pointed out by his dusky bride, and both propelled it, as best they 
 could, with sticks as much like paddles as they could find. They made 
 
THE WHITE SWALLOW. 195 
 
 for the side towards the hut of the young girl, which was rocky and 
 precipitous, and therefore safest. Their progress was extremely slow. 
 No light of any kind was there to guide them. The island loomed up 
 in. the distance against the sky, and not a sign of life could be seen 
 upon it. 
 
 At last it was reached, and the slender bark grated on the shore. 
 The pair leaped on the ice, and drew the raft so far after them as 
 at least to prevent its floating off. They then took the rifles, and 
 gained the land. They found themselves at the foot of lofty rocks, 
 from which hung thick and large trees that half-concealed their 
 height. The ascent was rugged, but not impossible ; and, by feeling 
 their way with extreme caution, they at last reached the summit. 
 The wood was here dense in the extreme, and so mixed up with 
 brushwood, as to oblige them to take great care as they advanced 
 with the rifles. They pushed their way through, however, a little 
 further, and then suddenly halted. 
 
 They were within a few yards of an extensive Indian camp. 
 
 The centre of the island was a large and deep hollow, used from 
 time immemorial as the winter residence of the tribe which now 
 occupied it. About a hundred and fifty yards long, by sixty 
 broad, it contained thirty large huts, or wigwams, so arranged 
 as to leave a considerable space in the centre. It was, perhaps, 
 a dozen yards deep, and so overhung by trees, that whatever fire 
 was made and the Indians rarely make more than is necessary 
 never could be discovered by the smoke, which, rising in small 
 columns, was swept by the currents of air among the dense foli- 
 age, to escape in such light vapors as were imperceptible. A 
 large fire was now made, however, beside a rock, close below where 
 the astonished pair stood. Round this were, perhaps, forty dark 
 and fierce-looking warriors. The women stood in groups near the 
 huts whispering. 
 
 But the captives were what they chiefly sought ; and these were 
 soon distinguished in the very centre of the council of the tribe. 
 
 A debate was going on, to which neither Mark Dalton nor the 
 Roaming Panther seemed to pay any attention. They were on a 
 log by themselves, and spoke in whispers. 
 
 u Listen ! " said Matonaza, crouching down beside his bride in 
 such a position as to see and hear all that passed, while he was at 
 the slimmit of a path which led down to the fire. 
 
 Various opinions had apparently been uttered before their arri- 
 val. The last speaker, a fat, luxurious, greasy-looking warrior, 
 with a nose and eye that spoke of the rum of the Yengeese, was, 
 when they first listened, doing battle for the protection of the 
 
196 THE WHITE SWALLOW. 
 
 white man's scalp. He urged the fact, that if he were taken to 
 the nearest fort in the spring, they would be amply repaid for 
 their trouble, and receive both powder, ball, and shot, in abundance, 
 with plenty of fire-water, that made a poor Indian's heart glad. 
 As for the red-skin, his tribe could spare him ; besides, he was of 
 no value. Let them take his scalp. A few applauded, but the rest 
 murmured loudly, for the speaker was a notorious drunkard ; and 
 the red-skins, even those who occasionally give way to the suicidal 
 madness of dririk the worst suicide, because of mind and body 
 despise an habitual sot. 
 
 Then up rose a warrior in the very prime of his days. He 
 was about five-and-forty, handsome, well-made, tall, and of grave 
 and rather melancholy mien. It was the Lightning- Arm, the 
 renowned warrior, who, taken prisoner by the English, had resisted 
 all the temptations which ruined his fellows. He was the bravest, 
 the wisest, the ablest chief of that day ; and his renown was uni- 
 versal. iSo was his terrible cruelty, in putting to death all the white 
 men, Dog-ribbed, and other north-western Indians, who fell in his 
 way. This was his oration : 
 
 "It is fifteen summers ago. The Lightning- Arm lived with his 
 people on the borders of the Little Bear River. There was plenty 
 of deer in the woods, and fish in the river, and the beavers were 
 kind ; they knew that their Indian brothers were poor, and plenty 
 were found. The Lightning- Arm was happy. He stood like a 
 tall pine in the midst of a wood, and every warrior called him 
 chief. Yes ; the Lightning- Arm was very happy. A little bird 
 sang in the woods, the loveliest girl of the Great Athapascow tribe, 
 and the little bird sang beside the tall pine. Lightning-Arm 
 called the Wild Rose his squaw. One pappoose was in his wigwam, 
 and it laughed in its father's face, and Lightning- Arm was very 
 happy. He was a great warrior ; his wife was pretty and good ; 
 he had a child lovely as the flowers of the prairie in spring. 
 Lightning- Arm was very happy. Then came the Pale Face tra- 
 ders, and bought all the red-skins' furs, and gave the foolish Indians 
 fire-water. The traders went away, and the Indians were beasts : 
 the fire-water was in their eyes, they could not see ; the fire-water 
 was in their ears, and they could not hear ; the fire-water was in 
 their heads, they could not watch. But wolves were in the woods, 
 who knew that the Great Athapascows were as hogs, and they 
 came down upon the camp. The Lightning-Arm had gone to 
 show the traders how to hunt. The wolves slew all the warriors,- 
 who woke no more ; they killed the Wild Rose, and they stole 
 her child. Lightning- Arm came bounding home : he listened for 
 
THE WHITE SWALLOW. 197 
 
 two laughs one very loud and clear, and one very little, but 
 very sweet. The Lightning-Arm was alone, the tall pine stood 
 naked on a stony plain. Let them die the white man for his 
 fire-water, the red-skin for his blood ! He is a Dog-ribbed cur. I 
 have spoken ! " 
 
 And the warrior drew his tomahawk, and awaited the words of 
 his companions, eager to give the signal for the torments which 
 were once more to glut his revenge. His hate for the Pale Faces, 
 whose drink had caused the camp to be surprised, and for the 
 member of a tribe suspected of the foray, might be seen in every 
 lineament. The whole circle of warriors applauded, and were about 
 to rise, when the Little Snake and the White Swallow stood in 
 their midst. 
 
 " My father is very sorry for the death of his squaw," said Ma- 
 tonaza with profound respect for the other's grief, " and his eyes 
 are dim. But his eye^i are open now ; does he know again a little 
 face he saw fifteen summers ago ? His ears are very sharp, the girl 
 will laugh, and her father will know her again ! " 
 
 The Indians moved not, though their favorite " ugh " escaped 
 every throat, while the Lightning- Arm listened with undisguised 
 astonishment. 
 
 " My brother is young," he said, quickly recovering himself, 
 " and would save his friends ; he gives an old warrior a young squaw 
 for a little pappoose." 
 
 " Matonaza is no liar," replied the other, solemnly. " His father 
 led the foray against the Great Athapascows ; he took away a little 
 pappoose for a squaw for his boy. There she stands see ! " 
 
 And the young chief held out his hand, and took from the 
 breast of the White Swallow one of those charmed bags given by 
 the medicine men to preserve children against evil spirits, and 
 which, found on the neck of the girl, had been left there, all fear- 
 ing to touch an amulet which, in their eyes, had secret powers. 
 The older chief took a pine-knot, and held it towards the face of the 
 young girl, examining at the same time, by an imperceptible glance, 
 the little bag. Matonaza saw the Lightning- Arm start, and then 
 discovered, by the working of his face and clenched hands, how 
 intense was the struggle between his Indian stoicism, and the pent- 
 up feelings of fifteen years. 
 
 " My old eyes were dim, and I could not see my friends," said 
 the father, in tones which no art, not even that of man's iron reso- 
 lution, could make firm. "You are welcome ye have brought 
 back my child ! " 
 
198 THE WHITE SWALLOW. 
 
 The three companions became at once the centre of a friendly 
 and delighted group, who crowded round the men, with exquisite 
 delicacy contriving to let the father slip away with his child, with- 
 out attracting attention to this act, rather too full of nature and 
 feeling to suit Indian customs. But, once out of sight, the chief 
 raised the girl in his arms, and, running under the trees, reached 
 an empty wigwam at the end of the village. A pine-knot, full 
 of rosin, illuminated the place. He set the White Swallow down 
 upon a mat, and looked at her. Every feature, every expression 
 mouth, nose, eyes, hair all were those of the mother, not 
 older than she was when killed. The warrior shook like a palsied 
 man with emotion, and then clasped the girl wildly to him. She 
 laughed faintly, bewildered as she was, and the man almost 
 shrieked. His ears had not heard that laugh for fifteen- years, 
 and yet, it had thrilled in his heart every hour ; for the chief 
 had idolized his beautiful wife, and she came to him nightly from 
 the Happy Hunting-ground in the visions of his sleep. It was an 
 hour before the Lightning- Arm was sufficiently composed to rejoin 
 his fellows and the astounded women. He found a feast prepared 
 to celebrate the happy occasion. All joined heartily in it. Mark 
 and the Roaming Panther, who had been expecting death for 
 hours, ate none the less heartily ; while the old chief, throwing 
 aside all his rigidity on this festive occasion, made the women 
 join the feast, and placed the White Swallow by his side. Even 
 the roughest warriors smiled grimly as they saw him watching every 
 mouthful she ate, giving her the choicest morsels, and touching 
 nothing himself. 
 
 Matonaza looked gravely, sadly on. He had saved his friends, 
 he had found the girl a father, he had gladdened the heart of a 
 widowed, childless chief, but he had lost a wife. It was, there- 
 fore, with unusual gravity that he rose to narrate the circumstan- 
 ces under which the parties had met. His narrative, the history 
 of a year, was the work of two hours' speaking, during which tho 
 young chief showed all that consummate oratorical art which be- 
 longs to some. of the Indians art that, if aided by the advantages 
 of education, would astound some civilized audiences. He spoke 
 little of himself, much of the White Swallow, arid told his story 
 in all its details. The Great Athapascows a distinct tribe from 
 the Little Athapascows, the ravishers of the girl listened with 
 unfeigned astonishment and breathless interest. The whole storj 
 delighted all, and none more than the father. A loud mur- 
 mur of applause and a huge cloud of tobacco-smoke greeted its 
 conclusion. 
 
^ ^ . THE WHITE SWALLOW. 199 
 
 " My brother is very wise a young arm, an old head ! The 
 Lightning- Arm sees a long way. The Little Snake has said noth- 
 ing, but his eyes are not silent. He would like to hear the White 
 Swallow laugh in his wigwam ! " 
 
 The young man at once warmly stated his case, his affection, his 
 abandonment of all to seek her. 
 
 "And the White Swallow? " asked the father, quite tenderly for 
 an Indian. 
 
 " Matonaza is a great chief, and the White Swallow will be his 
 pquaw ! " 
 
 The thing was at once settled. It was agreed that in the spring 
 the whole party should move towards the Mabasha, to wait during 
 ine summer, when it was proposed the two tribes should unite. 
 Matonaza answered for his people, who were too weak to stand 
 alone, and the Great Athapascows willingly agreed to accept them. 
 The party then retired to rest. Early on the following morning 
 the White Swallow fetched her dog, while the whole village visited 
 her solitary hut, which had escaped their notice only because they 
 seldom hunted or fished in the winter months, passing them in their 
 wigwams. Two days later, the wedding-feast took place amid uni- 
 versal rejoicings. Never was a happier party. The father . was a 
 changed man. He mourned the early dead ; but he rejoiced over 
 the recovered child, and was doubly pleased at seeing her doubly 
 happy finding a lost husband and an unknown father on the same 
 day. The Roaming Panther carried the news to the small camp 
 on the Mabasha ; and in May the junction took place. Mark Dai- 
 ton hunted with them all the summer ; and when he left them in 
 the autumn, it was with. regret 
 
 Neither the Lightning-Arm nor Matonaza ever joined in or 
 encouraged any of the wars and forays of their race. They had 
 Buffered too much from them. The old chief ruled the counsels 
 of his people for years, and led them to victory every time they 
 were attacked. He lived to see children again, and to watch them 
 grow up to manhood. He became their instructor and teacher. 
 A devoted and earnest friendship took place between the father 
 and the son-in-law; and, in memory of the past, the White Swal- 
 low enjoyed a much happier fate than most Indian women. The 
 chief never took another squaw : she was his first and his last ; 
 and ten years after they parted, when travelling on a mission, 
 Mark Dalton, now governor of the Hudson's Bay Company, found 
 his friends as happy as when he left them so long a time before. 
 
200 
 
 THE WHITE SWALLOW. 
 
 They talked over their adventures once again, and forgot not one 
 detail ; and in after-life, when speaking of his Indian experiences, 
 and admitting all the terror and rudeness of savage life, Mark 
 Dalton had always, by way of contrast, his story to tell of the White 
 Swallow of Mabasha Lake. 
 
IOTOBJB IN FAROE AID SHETLAND. 
 
 HESB two groups of islands, situated 
 in the northern Atlantic, and sep- 
 arated by only about one hundred 
 and eighty miles, are not more con- 
 trasted in their political position 
 and internal economy, than in their geological structure, and conse- 
 quent dissimilarity of scenery ; though, from having been originally 
 peopled by the same Scandinavian race, and long under one govern- 
 ment, there are still to be discovered numerous traces of similar 
 language, manners, and even personal appearance. 
 
 While Shetland is an integral portion of the home British empire, 
 participating in her enlightened laws and policy, her freedom and 
 progress in improvement, together with the good, and also, alas ! evil, 
 more or less attendant on our peculiar institutions, Faroe, as respects 
 manners and state of society, is in much the same condition as it has 
 been for a century past at least, or as Shetland was at that distance 
 
 Of * (Ml) 
 
402 FOWLING IN FAROE AND SHETLAND. 
 
 Faroe belongs to the Danish crown, is governed by its absolute, 
 though mild and paternal rule, and is subject to a royal monopoly 
 of all commerce and other resources. From analogy and observa- 
 tion, however, we are disposed to the opinion, that, for a half- 
 instructed, isolated, and pastoral people, the Faroese appear to be, 
 at present, in precisely the circumstances most conducive to their 
 morality, independence, and happiness. 
 
 The geological formation of the Faroe Isles is of volcanic origin ; 
 hence their splendid basaltic columns and conical hills, deep valleys 
 and mural precipices, narrow fiords and rushing tides. The shores 
 are so steep, that, in many of the islands, there is no convenient land- 
 ing-place. Boats are drawn up precipitous banks by ropes and pul- 
 leys ; and a ship of large burthen may lie close to a wall of rock, 
 from one to two thousand feet in height on either side, where the 
 strait between is so narrow, that she can only be towed or warped 
 onwards or outwards as alongside a wharf. In some situations thfi 
 cliffs present stupendous basaltic pillars, to which those of Staffs 
 and the Giant's Causeway are pigmies. More commonly the preci- 
 pices are broken into narrow terraces, overhanging crags, and gloomy 
 recesses, tenanted by myriads of sea-fowl of every name, whose inces- 
 sant motions, and shrill echoing cries, give variety and animation to 
 scenes otherwise desolate in their sublimity. 
 
 Among these dizzy and almost confounding scenes, the fowler pur- 
 sues his hazardous, but familiar avocation ; for the eggs and flesh of 
 the sea-fowl are an important part of the food of the Faroese, and the 
 feathers a profitable article of exportation. Little -thinks many a dis- 
 contented town-bred workman, or surly field laborer, and still less 
 many a fashionable ennuyee, with what cheeriness and courage num- 
 bers of their fellow-creatures encounter, not merely fatiguing toil, 
 but frightful danger, while in quest of their daily bread ! 
 
 The manner of performing the perilous task of taking the birds 
 from the precipices is thus described : " The fowler (fuglemand) is 
 let down from the top of the cliff by a rope, about three inches thick, 
 which is fastened to the waist and thighs by a broad woollen band, 
 on which he sits. The adventurer soon loses sight of his companions, 
 and can only communicate with them by a small line attached to his 
 body. When he reaches the terraces, often not more than a foot 
 broad, he frees himself from the rope, attaches it to a stone, and com- 
 mences his pursuit of the feathery natives. Where the nests are in a 
 hollow of the rock, the bird-catcher gives himself a swinging motion, 
 by means of his pole, till the vibration carries him so close, that he 
 can get footing on the rock. He can communicate to himself a swing 
 of thirty to forty feet ; but when the shelf lies deeper back, another 
 
FOWLING IN FAROE AND SHETLAND. 203 
 
 rope is let down to his associates in a boat, who can thus give him a 
 swing of one hundred, or one hundred and twenty feet." The Faroese 
 talk with rapture of their sensations while thus suspended between 
 gea and sky, swinging to and fro by what would seem a frail link 
 when the value of a human life is concerned. Nay, so fascinating is 
 this uncouth occupation, that there are individuals, who, provided 
 with a small supply of food, cause themselves to be lowered to some 
 recess, where the overhanging cliff gives shelter from above, and a 
 platform of a few square feet scarce affords sufficient resting-place ; 
 and here, sometimes for a fortnight, and even three weeks together, 
 will the adventurer remain alone, scrambling from crag to crag, col- 
 lecting birds from the nests, or catching them as they fly past him 
 with his fowling-pole and net, till he has filled his bags with their 
 slaughtered bodies or then- feathers. We cannot imagine a more 
 wildly-sublime locality for the restless energy of man to choose as a 
 temporary sojourning place. The ceaseless, discordant scream of the 
 birds, no doubt amazed at the dauntless intruder on their haunts, the 
 roar of the surf, and the wailing of the wind among the rocks and 
 crevices, might combine well-nigh to deafen any unaccustomed ears. 
 Moreover, there is the danger, the awe-inspiring scenery, the solitude ; 
 yet several persons have averred to our informant that in such a 
 unique position they have spent absolutely their happiest days ! 
 
 In Faroe the story is related, which is also said to have occurred 
 at St. Kilda, Foula, and Skye, of a father and son having been low- 
 ered at once, the one above the other, on a fowling expedition, by the 
 usual rope ; that, on beginning to ascend, they perceived two of the 
 three cords of which it was composed had been cut by the abrasion 
 of the rocks, and could not sustain the weight of more than one of 
 them ; and how, after a" short, but anguished contention, the father 
 prevailed on the son to cut him off, and thus sacrifice his parent's 
 life as the only chance of saving his own. 
 
 A far more instructive and thrilling anecdote, which, so far as we 
 know, has not appeared in print, was told our informant in Faroe by 
 a member of the young man's family to whom it occurred. 
 
 We have said that the fowlers are lowered from above, and man 
 age to get stationed on some shelf, or ledge of rock, frequently 
 beneath an overhanging crag, where they disengage themselves from 
 the rope, and proceed to their employment. Now it unfortunately 
 happened, that the young man we have alluded to, having secured 
 his footing on the flat rock, by some accident lost his hold of the 
 rope, to which was also attached his single-line, which he had the 
 agony to see, after a few pendulous swings, settle, perpendicularly, 
 utterly beyond his reach. When the first moments of surprise and 
 
204 FOWLING IN FAROE AND SHETLAND. 
 
 nearly mortal anguish had elapsed, he sat down to consider, as 
 calmly as might be, what he should do, what effort make to save 
 himself from the appalling fate of perishing by inches on that miser- 
 able spot. His friends above, he knew, after waiting the usual time, 
 would draw up the rope, and finding him not there, would conclude 
 he had perished ; or should they by the same method descend to 
 seek him, how, among the thousand nooks o that bewildering depth 
 of rock upon rock, find the secret recess he had chosen, where he 
 had so often congratulated himself on his favorable position, but 
 which seemed now destined for his grave ? 
 
 More than once the almost invincible temptation rushed on his 
 mind of ending his distraction and suspense by leaping into the abyss. 
 One short moment, and his fears and sufferings, with his " life's fit- 
 ful fever," would be over. But the temporary panic passed away ; 
 he raised his thoughts to the guardian care of Omnipotence ; and 
 calmed, and reassured, he trusted some mode of deliverance would 
 present itself. To this end he more particularly scanned his limited 
 resting-place. It was a rocky shelf, about eight feet wide, and grad- 
 ually narrowing till it met the extended precipice, where not the foot 
 of a gull could rest ; at the other extremity it terminated in an abrupt 
 descent of hundreds of feet ; at the back was a mural rock, smooth, 
 and slippery as ice ; and above was a beetling crag, overarching the 
 place where he stood, outside of which depended his only safety 
 his unfortunate rope. Every way he moved, carefully examining 
 and attempting each possible mode of egress from His singular prison- 
 house. He found none. There remained, so far as his own efforts 
 were concerned, one desperate chance to endeavor to reach the rope. 
 By means of his long pole he attempted to bring it to his hand. Long 
 he tried ; but he tried in vain : he could hardly touch it with the end 
 of the stick and other appliances ; but no ingenuity could serve to 
 hook it fast. Should he, then, leap from the rock, and endeavor to 
 catch it as he sprung ? Was there any hope he could succeed, or, 
 catching, could he sustain his hold till drawn to the top ? This, 
 indeed, seemed his only forlorn hope. One fervent prayer, there- 
 fore, for agility, courage, and strength, and with a bold heart, a 
 steady eye, and outstretched hand, he made the fearful spring! 
 We dare not and could not say exactly the distance it was many 
 feet but he caught the rope, first with one hand, and in the next 
 moment with the other. It slipped through, peeling the skin from 
 his palms ; but the knot towards the loops at the end stopped his 
 impetus, and he felt he could hold fast for a time. He made the 
 usual signal urgently, and was drawn upwards as rapidly as possible. 
 Yet the swinging motion, the imminent danger, and his own preca- 
 
FOWLING IN FAROE AND SHETLAND. 205 
 
 rious strength considered, we may well believe the shortest interval 
 would seem long, and that no ordinary courage and energy were 
 still necessary for his safety. He reached the top, and instantly 
 prostrated himself on the turf, returning aloud to the Almighty his 
 fervent thanksgivings, a few words of which had hardly escaped his 
 lips, when he sunk into utter insensibility. 
 
 Great was the amazement of his associates to find ( him hanging on 
 by his hands greater far their astonishment at his singular adven- 
 ture : but once having told his tale-, which every circumstance clearly 
 corroborated, his pole and net being found on the rock as described, 
 he never would again be prevailed on to recu.r to the subject ; nor 
 did he ever approach in the direction of the cliff from which he had 
 descended, without turning shudderingly away from a spot associated 
 with a trial so severe. 
 
 Quite contrasted to all these scenes, as we observed at the outset, 
 are the aspect of nature and the manner of taking the sea-fowl and 
 their eggs in Shetland. The hills are low, none of the seaward preci- 
 pices are above six or seven hundred feet high ; and so fur from fowl- 
 ing being pursued as a regular branch of employment, under proper 
 regulations, as in Faroe, the Shetland landlords and other superiors 
 by all means discourage their dependants from spending their time 
 and energies in what is at best to them a desultory and most danger- 
 ous occupation, which, moreover, robs the rocks, otherwise so bare 
 and rugged, of those feathered denizens, their appropriate ornament. 
 Still, so fascinating and exciting is this method of idling away time, 
 that might be much more profitably or improvingly employed, al 
 least, in these islands, that many of the fishermen frequent the clifis 
 and peril their lives in the forbidden pursuit. Serious accidents 
 occasionally occur. Some time ago a poor man met a very dreadful 
 fate. He had been creeping into a crevice where were several nests 
 with eggs ; having inserted half of his body, he had dislodged a stone, 
 which held him fast. His decaying corpse was found some time 
 afterwards ; the head, shoulders, and outstretched hands jammed in 
 the crevice, and the feet and legs hanging out. 
 
 More lately, a man noted for his fowling depredations went out one 
 fine morning to gather shell-fish bait for the next day's fishing. It 
 happened to be the day after communion Sabbath, when there is sermon 
 at noon. The fisherman's Sunday clothes were laid ready, his family 
 went to church and returned, but he appeared not : night came, and 
 he was yet absent. Still his family were under no particular anxiety, 
 imagining he had gone to a friend's at some little distance. In the 
 morning, however, when he did not join his boat's crew to go to the 
 usual fishing, the alarm was raised, and inquiry and search immedi- 
 
206 FOWLING IN FAROE AND SHETLAND. 
 
 ately made. It was without success for a considerable time ; but, 
 finally, near the brink of a precipice, where an opening rent in the 
 rocks made an accessible way for a short distance downwards, the 
 poor man's shoes and basket of bait were found. Following up this 
 indication, his fishing associates proceeded in their boat to the base 
 of the cliff, from whence they saw something like a human being. 
 With renewed hope they climbed up, and found their unfortunate 
 comrade, caught between two rocks, where he reclined as if asleep ; 
 but he had fallen from a great height, and was quite dead ; and by 
 this act, as of a truant schoolboy, for 1 a few wild-fowl eggs, was a 
 wife and large family left destitute and mourning ! 
 
 There is in the island of Unst, the most northerly of the Shetlands, 
 one man, who, by his bravery, expertness, and, we may perhaps add, 
 his incorrigible perseverance, has gained a sort of tacit immunity from 
 the general restriction, or, at least, his poaching misdemeanors are 
 winked at. His father was a noted fowler before him ; and since his 
 own earliest boyhood, he has been accustomed to make it his pastime 
 to scramble among the steepest crags and cliffs, making many a hair- 
 breadth escape, many an unheard-of prize. He has robbed the most 
 inaccessible nooks of their inhabitants, and even surprised the sea eagie 
 in her nest. He climbs barefooted, and his toes clasp the slippery 
 rock as talons would. Fear or dizziness he knows not of; and for a 
 few shillings, or, for an afternoon's recreation, he will scale many a 
 ladder of rock, and penetrate many a time-worn crevice, where human 
 foot but his own will probably never tread. Every cranny, every 
 stepping- place of the precipitous headlands of his native island are 
 intimately known to him ; and at how much expense of unconquera- 
 ble perseverance, zigzag explorings, and undaunted courage this has 
 been accomplished, we may not stop too particularly to relate. 
 
 On one occasion, led on by his indomitable love of exploring, he had 
 passed to a point of a cliff to which even he had never before been. 
 His object was to discover the spot where he believed a pair of eagles 
 had long built unmolested. Overjoyed, he reached the place ; trium- 
 phantly he possessed himself of the eggs (for which, by the by, a com- 
 mercial collector afterwards paid him five shillings) ; and then he 
 for the first time became aware of his whereabouts. How he got 
 there he could not even imagine. He paused a few moments ; it was 
 not fear, but unfeigned surprise and awe that entranced him ; and 
 then the consideration naturally forced itself on his attention 
 " How shall I return ? " It ought to be mentioned, for the benefit 
 of the uninitiated, that it is much more difficult to get down than to 
 ascend. The whole tortuosities and difficulties of the path are more 
 clearly in view, and the head is not apt to be so steady. In the pro* 
 
FOWLING IN FAROE AND SHETLAND. 207 
 
 ent case, moreover, the excitement was past the object was attained, 
 and it is wonderful how the blood cools, and courage becomes calcu- 
 lating, in these latter circumstances. Well, beside the plundered 
 eyrie our gallant adventurer sat cogitating. "I'll never return, 
 that 's certain, to begin with," he said to himself. " After all my 
 escapes and exploits, my time is come at last. Well, if it is, it is : let 
 me meet it like a man ! If it is not come, I shall get down in safety, 
 as I have done ere now, though never from such an awful place before." 
 So he precipitately began the descent plunging on without an idea 
 except his early-imbibed belief in predestination, and an occasional 
 aspiration to the Almighty for protection. He never knew, he says, 
 how or by what paths he reached a place of comparative safety; but 
 he would not attempt to go again to that spot for twenty guineas. 
 
 It is not, however, only in those localities with which from child- 
 hood he has been familiar that our courageous Towler is dexterous 
 and adventurous in his undertakings. Tempted by an offer of ade- 
 quate remuneration from an amateur, he engaged to procure an 
 eagle's egg from a distant quarter, where they were known to have a 
 nest. The gentleman, in the interval of his absence, sorely repented 
 that he had proffered the bribe, though he by no means urged the 
 step. But in due time the brave cragsman returned successful, 
 having twice scaled the precipice to the eyrie. The first time, when 
 he reached the place, from whence he scared the parent birds, he found 
 the nest so situated, that, though he saw the eggs, he could not by 
 any possibility reach them. Nothing daunted, he returned and mads 
 his preparations. To the end of a long fishing-rod he attached a blad- 
 der, the mouth of which he kept distended by a wire. Reaching this 
 simple but ingenious apparatus to the nest, from the perching-place 
 where he leaned, he gradually worked the eggs into the bladder-bag 
 with the point of the rod, and bore them off in triumph. It was the 
 most lucrative, though the most dangerous adventure he had ever 
 accomplished ; for the locality was strange, the weather was gloomy, 
 and the birds were fierce, and, at one time, in startling proximity to 
 Ihe spoiler. 
 
 This man, who in every respect is the beau ideal of a successful 
 bwler, is now in the prime of life, about medium height, active and 
 agile of course, and slender and lithe as an eel. During the late 
 trying season of destitution from the failure of crops and fishing, he 
 has mainly supported his family by the produce of such exploits as 
 we have been detailing. And he has a little son, the tiny counterpart 
 of himself, whom, almost ever since he could walk, he has taught to 
 climb the rocks along with him, and who, therefore, bids fair, should he 
 escape casualties, to be as bold and expert in fowling as is his parent. 
 
vui? 
 lJaJ& 
 
 AMONG the many strange objects which an Englishman meets 
 with in India, there are few which tend so much to upset his equa- 
 nimity as a visit from a wandering Fuqueer. 
 
 The advent of one of these gentry in an English settlement is 
 regarded with much the same sort of feeling as a vagrant cock- 
 roach, when he makes his appearance, unannounced, in a modern 
 drawing-room. If we could imagine the aforesaid cockroach bran- 
 dishing his horns in the face of the horrified inmates, exulting in 
 the disgust which his presence creates, and intimating, with a con- 
 ceited swagger, that, in virtue of his ugliness, he considered himself 
 entitled to some cake and wine, perhaps the analogy would be more 
 complete. 
 
 The fuqueer is the mendicant friar of India. He owns no supe- 
 rior; wears no clothing; performs no work; despises everybody 
 and everything ; sometimes pretends to perpetual fasting, and lives 
 on the fat of the land. 
 
 There is this much, however, to be said for him, that when he 
 does mortify himself for the good of the community, he does it to 
 some purpose. A lenten fast, or a penance of parched pease in 
 his shoes, would be a mere bagatelle to him. We have seen a 
 fuqueer who was never " known" to eat at all. He carried a small 
 black stone about with him, which had been presented to hia 
 mother by a holy man. He pretended that by sucking this stone, 
 and without the aid of any sort of nutriment, he had arrived at the 
 mature age of forty ; yet he had a nest of supplementary chins, and 
 a protuberant paunch, which certainly did great credit to the fat- 
 tening powers of the black stone. Oddly enough, his business 
 was to collect eatables and drinkables ; but, like the Scottish gen- 
 tleman who was continually begging brimstone, they were "no for 
 hissel, but for a neebour." When I saw him he was soliciting 
 offerings of rice, milk, fish, and ghee, for the benefit of his patron 
 
 OM6) 
 
A FUQUEER'S CURSE. 209 
 
 Devi. These offerings were nightly laid upon the altar before the 
 Devi, who was supposed to absorb them during the night, consider- 
 ately leaving the fragments to be distributed among the poor of the 
 parish. His godship was very discriminating in the goodness and 
 freshness of these offerings ; for he rejected such as were stale, to be 
 returned next morning, with his maledictions, to the fraudulent 
 donors. 
 
 Sometimes a fuqueer will take it into his head that the commu- 
 nity will be benefited by his trundling himself along, like a cart-wheel, 
 for a couple of hundred miles or so. He ties his wrists to his 
 ankles, gets a tire, composed of chopped straw, 'mud, and cow-dung, 
 kid along the ridge of his backbone ; a bamboo staff passed through 
 the angle formed by his knees and his elbows, by way of an axle, 
 and off he goes ; a brazen cup, with a bag, and a hubble-bubble, hang 
 like tassels at the two extremities of the axle. Thus accoutred, he 
 often starts on a journey which will occupy him for several years, 
 like Milton's -fiend, 
 
 '* O'er bog, or steep, through straight, rough, dense, or rare, 
 With head, hands, feet or wings, pursues his way." 
 
 On arriving in the vicinity of a village, the whole population turn 
 out to meet and escort him with due honors to the public well or tank ; 
 the men beating drums, and the women singing through cheir noses. 
 Here his holiness unbends, washes off the dust and dirt acquired 
 by perambulating several miles of dusty road ; and, after partaking 
 of a slight refreshment, enters into conversation with the assembled 
 villagers just as if he were an ordinary mortal ; making very par- 
 ticular inquiries concerning the state of their larders, and slight 
 investigations as to their morals. Of course every one is anxious 
 to have the honor of entertaining a man so holy as to roll to their 
 presence doubled up into a hoop ; and disputes get warm as to who 
 is to have the preference. Whereupon the fuqueer makes a speech, 
 in which he returns thanks for the attentions shown him, and inti- 
 mates that he intends taking up his quarters with the man who is 
 most capable of testifying his appreciation of the honor. After 
 some higgling, he knocks himself down, a decided bargain, to be the 
 guest of the highest bidder, in whose house he remains, giving good 
 advice to the community, and diffusing an odor of sanctity through- 
 out the .whole village. When the supplies begin to fail, he ties his 
 hands to his heels again, gets a fresh tire put on, and is escorted 
 out of the village with the same formalities as accompanied his. 
 entrance. 
 
 14 
 
210 A FUQUEER'S CURSE. 
 
 Like other vermin of his class, he is most apt to attach himself 
 to the " weaker vessels " of humanity, with whom he is generally a 
 prodigious favorite. He is not, certainly, indebted to his personal 
 advantages for this favor, for a more hideously ugly race of men is 
 seldom met with. As if nature had not made him sufficiently repul- 
 sive, he heightens his hideousness by encircling his eyes with bands 
 of white paint ; daubing his cheeks a rich mustard yellow ; a white 
 streak runs along the ridge of his nose, and another forms a circle 
 round his mouth ; his ribs are indicated by corresponding bars of 
 white paint, which give a highly venerable cross-bones effect to his 
 breast. When I add, that he wears no clothes, and that the use of 
 soap is no part of his religion, some idea may T>e gained of the effect 
 the first view of him occasions in the mind of a European. 
 
 On the afternoon of a very sultry day in June, I had got a table 
 out in the verandah of my bungalov/, and was amusing myself with 
 a galvanic apparatus, giving such of my servants as had the courage 
 a taste of what they called Wulatee boinjee (English lightning), 
 when a long, gaunt figure, with his hair hanging in disordered masses 
 over his face, was observed to cross the lawn. On arriving within 
 a few paces of where I stood, he drew himself up in an imposing atti- 
 tude one of his arms akimbo, while the other held out towards 
 me what appeared to be a pair of tongs, with a brass dish at the 
 extremity of it. 
 
 ' Who are you ? " I called out. 
 
 ' Fuqueer," was the guttural response. 
 
 * What do you want ? " 
 
 'Bheek," (alms). 
 
 ' Bheek ! " I exclaimed, " surely you are joking, a great stout 
 fellow like you can't be wanting bheek ! " 
 
 The fuqueer paid not the slightest attention, but continued hold- 
 ing out his tongs with the dish at the end of it. 
 
 " You had better be off," I said ; " I never give bheek to people 
 who are able to work." 
 
 " We do Khooda's work," replied the fuqueer, with a swagger. 
 
 " Oh ! you do then," I answered, " you had better ask Khooda 
 for bheek." So saying, I turned to the table, and began arranging 
 the apparatus for making some experiments. Happening to look up 
 about five minutes after, I observed that the fuqueer was standing 
 upon one leg, and struggling to assume as much majesty as was con- 
 sistent with his equilibrium. The tongs and dish were still extended, 
 while his left hand sustained his right foot across his abdomen. I 
 turned to the table, and tried to go on with my work ; but I blun- 
 dered awfully, broke a glass jar, cut my fingers, and made a mesa 
 
A FTJQUEER'S CURSE. 211 
 
 on the table. I had a consciousness of the fuqueer's staring at me 
 with his extended dish, and could not get the fellow out of m y head. 
 I looked up at him again. There he was as grand as ever, on his 
 one leg, and with his eyes riveted on mine. He continued this per- 
 formance for nearly an hour, yet there did not seem to be the faint- 
 est indication of his unfolding himself; rather a picturesque 
 ornament to the lawn, if he should take it into his head, as these fel- 
 lows sometimes do, to remain in the same position for a twelvemonth 
 " If," I said, " you stand there much longer, I '11 give you such a 
 taste of boinjee (lightning) as will soon make you glad to go." 
 
 The only answer to this threat was a smile of derision that senl 
 his mustache bristling up against his nose. 
 
 " Lightning ! " he sneered " your lightning can't touch a 
 fuqueer the gods take care of him." 
 
 Without more ado, I charged the battery and connected it witl 
 a coil machine, which, as those who have tried it are aware, is capa 
 ble of racking the nerves in such a way as few people care to try 
 and which none are capable of voluntarily enduring beyond a fev 
 seconds. 
 
 The fuqueer seemed rather amused at the queer-looking imple 
 ments on the table, but otherwise maintained a look of lofty stoi- 
 cism ; nor did he seem in any way alarmed when I approached with 
 the conductors. 
 
 Some of my servants who had already experienced the process, 
 now came clustering about, with looks of ill-suppressed merriment, 
 to witness the fuqueer's ordeal. I fastened one wire to his still 
 extended tongs, and the other to the foot on the ground. 
 
 As the coil machine was not yet in action, beyond disconcerting 
 him a little, the attachment of the wires did not otherwise afiect 
 him. But when I pushed the magnet into the coil, and gave him 
 the full strength of the battery, he howled like a demon; the 
 tongs, to which his hands were now fastened by a force beyond his 
 will, quivered in his unwilling grasp as if it were burning the flesh 
 from his bones. He threw himself on the ground, yelling and 
 gnashing his teeth, the tongs clanging an irregular accompaniment. 
 Never was human pride so abruptly cast down. He was rolling 
 about in such a frantic way, that I began to fear he would do him- 
 self mischief; and, thinking he had now had as much as was good 
 for him, I stopped the machine and released him. 
 
 For some micutes he lay quivering on the ground, as if not quite 
 sure that the horrible spell was broken; then gathering himself 
 up, he flung the tongs from him, bounded across the lawn, and 
 over, the fence like an antelope. When he had got to what he reck- 
 
212 A FUQUEER'S CURSE. 
 
 oned cursing distance, he turned round, shook his fists at me, and 
 fell to work pouring out a torrent of imprecations shouting, 
 screeching and tossing his arms about in a manner fearful to 
 behold. 
 
 There is a peculiarity in the abuse of an Oriental, that, beyond 
 wishing the object of it a liberal endowment of blisters, boils and 
 ulcers, (no inefficient curses in a hot country,) he does not otherwise 
 allude to him personally ; but directs the main burden of his wrath 
 against his female relatives from his grandmother to his grand- 
 daughter, wives, daughters, sisters, aunts, and grand aunts inclusive. 
 These he imprecates individually and collectively through every 
 clause of a prescribed formulary, which has been handed down by 
 his ancestors, and which, in searchingness of detail and comprehen- 
 siveness of malediction, leaves small scope for additions or improve- 
 ments. 
 
 Leaving me then to rot and wither from the face of the earth, and 
 consigning all my female kindred to utter and inevitable death and 
 destruction, he walked off to a neighboring village to give vent to 
 his feelings, and compose his ruffled dignity. 
 
 It so happened, that a short time after the fuqueer had gone, I 
 incautiously held my head, while watching the result of some exper- 
 iments, over a -dish of fuming acid, and consequently became so ill 
 as to be obliged to retire to my bedroom and lie down. In about 
 an hour, I called to my bearer to fetch me a glass of water ; but, 
 although I heard him and some of the other servants whispering 
 .together behind the purda, or door curtain, no attention was paid 
 to my summons. After repeating the call two or three times with 
 the same result, I got up to see what was the matter. On drawing 
 aside the purda, I beheld the whole establishment seated in full con- 
 clave on their haunches round the door. On seeing me, they all 
 got up and took to their heels, like a covey of frightened partridges. 
 The old Kidmudgar was too fat to run far ; so I seized him, just as 
 he was making his exit by a gap in the garden fence. He was, at 
 first, quite incapable of giving any account of himself; so I made 
 him sit a minute among the long grass to recover his wind, when 
 he broke out with " Oh ! re-bab-re-bab ! " and began to blubber, 
 as only a fat Kidmudgar can, imploring me to send instantly for the 
 fuqueer, and make him a present ; if I did not, I would certainly 
 be a dead man before to-morrow's sun ; " For," said he, " a fuqueer's 
 curse is good as kismut-ke-bat " (a matter of fate). Some of his 
 fellows now seeing that the murder was out, ventured to come 
 back, and joined in requesting me to save my life while there was 
 yet time. 
 
A FUQUEER'S CURSE. 213 
 
 A laugh was the only answer I could make. This somewhat 
 reassured them, but it was easy to see that I was regarded by all 
 as a doomed man. It was to no purpose that I told them I was now 
 quite well, and endeavored to explain the cause of my sickness. 
 They would have it that I was in a dying state, and that my only 
 salvation lay in sending off a messenger with a kid and a bag of 
 rupees to the fuqueer. The durdzee (tailor), who had just come 
 from the village where the fuqueer had taken refuge, told me, that, 
 as soon as the fuqueer heard that I was ill, he performed a pas seul 
 of a most impressive character, shouting and threatening to curse 
 everybody in the village as he had me and mine. The consequence 
 was that pice, cowries, rice and ghee were showered upon him with 
 overwhelming liberality. 
 
 Without saying a word, I armed myself with a horsewhip, set 
 out for the village, and found the fuqueer surrounded by a dense 
 crowd of men and women, to whom he was jabbering with tremen- 
 dous volubility ; telling them how he had withered me up root and 
 branch, and expressing a hope that I would serve as a lesson to the 
 other children of Sheitan who ventured to take liberties with a 
 fuqueer. The crowd hid me from him till I broke in upon his dreams 
 with a slight taste of my whip across his shoulders. His eyes nearly 
 leaped out of their sockets when he turned round and saw me. 
 Another intimation from my thong sent him off with a yell, leaving 
 the rich spoil he had collected from the simple villagers behind. 
 What became of him I cannot tell. I heard no more of him. 
 
 A few such adventures as these would tend to lessen the gross, 
 and, to them, expensive superstitions under which the natives of 
 India at present labor. 
 
XII BISSfiTS OF AIR1CA. 
 
 Geography of the Deserts Physical Structure and Leading Features 
 Vegetable and Animal Productions Conjectures as to the Origin of 
 the Deserts. 
 
 THE northern coast of Africa has long been known to the civil- 
 ized world, and once formed no unimportant part of its political 
 and social system. But though Egypt took the lead in science, and 
 Carthage in commercial enterprise, yet the progress of civilization 
 does not appear to have extended at any time beyond the tracts of 
 land immediately bordering on the Nile and the Mediterranean. A 
 few days' journey into the interior placed the traveller on apparently 
 endless plains of shifting sand ; a boundary which arrested the vic- 
 torious career of Cambyses and Alexander, and which has, in all 
 subsequent ages, baffled every attempt at colonization and improve- 
 ment. Till within the last few years, the immense region which 
 extends from the fertile shores of the Mediterranean to the country 
 called Soudan, or Nigritia, has been left a blank or dotted space on 
 our maps, marked in large letters " Sahara, or the Great Desert ;" 
 as though nature, departing from her usual diversity of operations, 
 had here adopted the rule of monotony and uniformity, and had 
 spread in every direction a sheet of burning sand. The imagina- 
 tion of poets has availed itself of the silence of geographers, and 
 represented this as a region without a blade of grass, and traversed 
 by no living thing, except wild beasts of prey, and here and there a 
 tribe of savages, ignorant of the primary wants of individual life 
 which attach man to the soil, as well as of the first elements of social 
 existence which unite him to his fellow-men. 
 
 Travellers have from time to time ventured into the mysterious 
 abyss ; and the few who have returned to tell what they saw, have 
 furnished some interesting particulars concerning the route they 
 pursued, and the people they encountered.* Their aim, however 
 
 214) 
 
THE DESERTS OF AFRICA. 215 
 
 was rather to get through the Desert than to become acquainted 
 with it, the great object of curiosity being the Negro country which 
 lies beyond. But since the French assumed the sovereignty of 
 Algeria in 1830, they have felt, like all preceding conquerors of 
 this territory, the impossibility of colonizing and civilizing it, with- 
 out exercising a corresponding influence on the adjoining desert; 
 and thus the Sahara itself has become an object of deep attention. 
 They have labored assiduously to understand its resources, the social 
 condition of its tribes, and the relation which subsists between them 
 and the inhabitants of the surrounding countries. It must bo 
 added, that they have made attempts as futile as unwarrantable, 
 to compel the Saharians to receive law and civilization at their 
 hands. Their utmost success in this respect has been, to obtain a 
 scanty tribute from some of the Oases ; to plunder and devastate 
 others whose inhabitants fled before them ; and to drive the streams 
 of commerce from their own province to the neighboring states of 
 Morocco and Tripoli. Meanwhile, a vast body of information had 
 been collected, chiefly with reference to the northern and western 
 parts of Sahara ; while Mr. Richardson, who penetrated the Desert 
 further towards the east in the year 1846, has made us acquainted 
 with a portion which the French could know only by hearsay. E-o- 
 cent discoveries in Central Africa have thrown new interest around 
 the deserts which form its northern boundary ; and the more so, 
 as it is the present opinion that the most eligible route to Nigritia 
 is across the wastes of Sahara from the Mediterranean shores, rather 
 than through the pestilential forests and savage populations which 
 are found between the Senegal and the Niger. 
 
 The desert region which we propose now to describe, is bounded 
 on the north by the states of Barbary, on the west by the Atlantic 
 Ocean, on the south by Soudan, or Nigritia, and the river Senegal, 
 and on the east by Egypt and Nubia. Adopting the ancient classi- 
 cal figure, we should call this vast expanse an ocean, dividing the 
 continent of the black race from the abodes of white men : as such 
 it is traversed by powerful fleets, infested with daring freebooters, 
 and studded here and there with single islands, or numerous archi- 
 pelagoes. It is difficult to assign its precise limits to the north, on 
 account of the interruptions to which it is subject in that direction. 
 It has been usual to consider the Great Sahara as reaching from 
 about the 16th to the 29th parallels, and to call by various names 
 as the Little Desert, the Desert of Anghad, the Desert of Shott, 
 &c. those gulfs of the sandy ocean which project further north ; 
 while the region of numerous oases, which form the northern skirt- 
 
216 THE DESERTS OP AFRICA. 
 
 ing of the Sahara, have been denominated Beled-el-Jerid, or the 
 Date-Country. 
 
 The term is in many respects ineligible, as it conveys the idea of 
 great fertility ; and by no means suggests the fact, that it is, as a 
 whole, a desert region, absolutely barren and uninhabitable in many 
 places, though abounding towards the east in the fertile spots called 
 oases, which are generally, but not universally, congenial to the 
 date. The fact is, that this fruit attains its greatest perfection in 
 some of those verdant spots which are found in the very heart of 
 the Central Desert ; and were it only on this ground, the appella- 
 tion Date-Country is unsuitable for distinguishing the region of 
 numerous oases in the north from the more thinly-sown portion 
 in the centre. We may, therefore, so far adopt the French nomen- 
 clature, as to call this interesting, and now pretty well-known coun- 
 try, " the Northern Sahara," in- contradistinction to the Central^ 
 which it might confuse the English reader to denominate the Falat, 
 as the term Sahara is retained in our best maps. 
 
 The inhabitants of the Desert know no other division of their 
 country than that of tribes and oases the very names of which 
 were long unknown in Europe, but are now to some extent ascer- 
 tained and defined. Instead, however, of burdening the reader's 
 memory with a large number of names which he might find in no 
 map within his reach, and, perhaps, might never again meet in the 
 course of his reading, we shall merely point out the oases which are 
 most important from their external relations, and which we may 
 have occasion afterwards to mention. 
 
 Beginning from the west, and proceeding along the northern bor- 
 der, the first fertile spots to be noted are El-Harib, important as a 
 resting-place on the direct route from the city of Morocco to Tim- 
 buctoo ; and Tafilet, the capital of the Shereef tribe, and the centre 
 of an extensive commerce with the negro country, the interior of 
 Morocco, and the East. Tafilet is not a single oasis, but a cluster; 
 for fertile spots are both few and small west of the second degree of 
 east longitude, owing, it is believed, to the circumstance that the 
 wind blows from the east nine months in the year, rushing into a 
 hurricane at certain seasons, and that, in the course of time, it has 
 accumulated the sand towards the west. In the Algerian Sahara, 
 the most southern oases are El-Abied-Sidi-Sheik, Wad-Miab, Wad- 
 Reklah, Wad-Reer, and Wad-Soof, better known by their towns, 
 Metili, Gardeai, Tuggurt, and Temacin, forming a. chain of fertile 
 spots, south of which all is sterility, and not even a village is to be 
 seen during several days' journey. The fertile belt which stretches 
 along the shores of the Mediterranean, and by the, natives called 
 
THE DESERTS OP AFRICA. 217 
 
 the Tell, is from fifty to one hundred and twenty miles broad in the 
 province of Algiers, but it becomes a very narrow strip in tha 
 regency of Tripoli ; and an English traveller remarks here, that tha 
 distinction between Great and Little Deserts is quite fictitious : it is 
 all Sahara, and the sands reach the very walls of Tripoli. The two 
 great oases, or, rather, archipelagoes, facilitate the intercourse between 
 the above-named points and the interior of Africa : they are Fezzan, 
 of which the capital is Mourzouk, and Twat, whose chief towns are 
 Ain-salah, Agabli, and Timimoom. The space, however, between 
 these and the nearest of the northern oases is very formidable, and 
 would be almost impassable if nature had not placed two resting- 
 places on the two principal routes. El-Golea lies between Algeria 
 and Twat ; Ghadarnis between Tunis and Fezzan. Timbuctoo and 
 Kashna are the great marts in the negro country with which 
 commercial relations are maintained in a manner we shall here- 
 after describe. 
 
 The eastern part of the Desert, sometimes distinguished as the 
 Libyan, offers no points of similar interest, except Bilna, the chief 
 town, famous for its immense salt beds, whence large quantities are 
 annually exported to Nigritia. But we must not overlook the line 
 of oases which is found running north and south near the extreme 
 eastern limit of these dreary wastes. Here are Darfoor, Selimeh, 
 the Great and Little Oases of Thebes, the natron lakes, and the 
 Baha-bela-ma, or dry river. The Great Oasis is one hundred and 
 twenty miles long, and four or five broad ; the lesser, separated from 
 it by forty miles of desert, is similar in form. In the valley of 
 Nitrium is another beautiful spot, which was a favorite retreat of 
 Christian monks in the second century. Here remain four out of 
 three hundred and sixty convents, and from them some valuable 
 manuscripts of ancient date have recently been obtained. Another 
 oasis in this direction contains splendid ruins, supposed to be those 
 of the famous temple of Jupiter Ammon. 
 
 Returning from the ancient to the modern, from the poetical to 
 the useful, we remark that the route almost directly south from 
 Ghadamis to Kashna has, since the adventures of Lyon, Richardson, 
 and others, become pretty well known, and it is ascertained to be a 
 line of great commercial activity, and abounding with towns and 
 villages. Of the former, Ghat * is celebrated as a market or fair, 
 and Agades as the capital of the Targhee tribes in this district. 
 Aheer is another important town, as it is on the way from Morocco 
 (by Twat) to Kashna; and also as it maintains commerce with 
 
 * Or R&t 
 
218 THE DESERTS OF AFRICA. 
 
 Bilna, Ghat, and Mourzouk. We know little of the tracts which 
 lie west of Aheer, but on the line from Twat to Timbuctoo we find 
 Mabrook, thrice welcome to the traveller, who has met with no water 
 for ten days before reaching it. Tishet, Toudeni, and Wadan * are 
 generally marked on modern maps on account of their salt beds, 
 which form a valuable article of commerce. 
 
 The knowledge which we possess of the physical structure of the 
 Desert is still very incomplete. We may, however, add some general 
 views of the nature and aspect of its surface, and notice some of its 
 most remarkable features. If we begin our examination with the 
 western portion, 'a journey along the coast offers nothing but low 
 aandy tracts, broken here and there by rocky headlands, neither 
 bold nor lofty; the land is not perceived at sea beyond a very 
 short distance, which is doubtless the principal reason of the numer- 
 ous shipwrecks that have occurred on this inhospitable shore. 
 Leaving the coast, the shifting sand extends but a few days' jour- 
 ney at the most, and we arrive at a somewhat elevated plain, which 
 appears very extensive. It is close, uniform, stony, and arid in the 
 extreme, but here and there interrupted by a hollow, or large ravine, 
 one hundred and fifty or two hundred feet deep, whose steeps afford 
 occasional springs of water. That part of the desert which lies 
 between El-Harib and Timbuctoo is extremely arid, and destitute 
 of wells, indicating that in this space there must be some point of 
 culmination, or a line of rising-ground to separate the waters, for we 
 find much sand on the route of Caillie ; and it is well known that 
 sand and springs abound chiefly in low grounds, and that it is espe- 
 cially near the lines that divide the waters that there appear few 
 inducements to bore. A similar swelling has been remarked between 
 Twat and Timbuctoo. On leaving Agabli, the most southern point 
 of the former, the route lies over sand for a few days, and then 
 occurs a tract of stiff red earth, and the utter absence of water for 
 eight or ten days. This does not extend far to the west, for in that 
 direction it is bounded by a sandy waste. 
 
 The central part of the Desert seems to be considerably more 
 mountainous than the eastern or western portions of it. Between 
 Algiers and Twat is an uninhabitable desert of sand without water, 
 separated by a hilly district from another similarly dreary waste 
 between Algeria and Ghadamis. The country which lies between 
 Twat and Ghat is all hilly, but its particular topography is quite 
 unknown, on account of the deadly enmity which we shall after- 
 wards have occasion to notice as existing between the populations 
 
 * Or Hoden. 
 
THE DESERTS OF AFRICA. 219 
 
 whose territories it separates, and which renders its exploration per- 
 ilous in the extreme. The Targhee country abounds in hills and 
 stony plains. Mr. Richardson describes himself as travelling six 
 days southward from Ghadamis without meeting fifty yards of sand ; 
 the route lay over hard baked earth, and huge blocks of stone, but 
 chiefly beds of very small pebbles. Afterwards he met sand in abun- 
 dance masses of it quite loose, and four hundred feet high. To- 
 wards Ghat it was heap upon heap, pile upon pile, every succeeding 
 feature of the landscape appearing more hideous than the former, 
 and the whole presenting "a mass of blank existence, having no 
 apparent object but to terrify the hapless traveller, who, with his 
 faithful camel, pursues his weary way through the waste." The 
 country about Ghat is intersected in every direction with dark 
 gloomy mountains. Here, it is said, that spirits of the air live in 
 harmonious alliance with the tribes of the Desert, in consequence 
 of a kind of Magna Charta, a treaty offensive and defensive, made 
 between them ages ago. The jenoum, (demons, or genii,) who had 
 chosen to build their palaces in these mountains, offered their 
 friendship and protection to the sons of men, on condition of being 
 allowed to remain unmolested, promising especially to endue their 
 human allies with vision and tact, during the hours of darkness, to 
 surprise and overcome their enemies. And the Targhee fathers 
 alone of mortals vowed them eternal and inviolable friendship on 
 these conditions, swearing that they never would employ Maraboot, 
 holy Koran, or any other means, to dislodge them from the black 
 turret-shaped hills. The treaty has never been violated ; the demons 
 dwell unmolested in their lofty castles ; and many an unfortunate 
 traveller, or hapless negro family, witnesses the fearful efficacy of 
 the powers which they have conferred upon the Touarik. Standing 
 out conspicuously among the private dwellings of the demons is an 
 immense rock : this is their council-hall ; and here, from thousands 
 of miles round, do the spirits of the air meet to deliberate on the 
 affairs of their social polity. Here, too, are their public treasuries 
 caverns full of gold, silver, and diamonds all, we presume, of 
 a spiritual nature, like their possessors, or we doubt if they would 
 remain inviolable. Nor must we omit to mention a rocking or log- 
 ging-stone, about fifty feet high. It was the spot on which a wealthy 
 Maraboot of great sanctity met a violent death. The murderer, 
 seized with remorse for his deed of blood, entreated the genii to 
 cover up the body from sight, as he had not courage himself to bury 
 it. They listened to his prayer, and detached this piece of rock 
 from their great palace to form a sepulchral stone ; and here it has 
 rested, occasionally rocking, say the people, to this day. The mur 
 
220 THE DESERTS OF AFRICA. 
 
 derer then begged that the genii would accept some of the spoil in 
 token of his gratitude ; but they refused to touch the bloodstained 
 gold, and pelted the wretch to death. 
 
 The topography of Fezzan presents a mixture of mountains and 
 plains ; and the soil is sterile enough except in the oases, which are 
 said to be about one hundred in number. The most remarkable 
 feature of this part of Sahara is the chain which separates it from 
 Tripoli, and which runs from east-south-east to west-north-west, like 
 the coast from Benghazi to Khabs. The whole country south of 
 Fezzan consists likewise of hills and stony plains, sandy tracts being 
 met with only here and there. A long range of black basaltic 
 mountains forms the western boundary of the Tiboo country or 
 Libyan Desert, where the continent shelves down towards the Med- 
 iterranean in a series of sandy or gravelly terraces, divided by 
 low rocky ridges. This shelving country is cut transversely by the 
 deep furrow in which is the long line of oases to which we have 
 adverted as of ancient classic celebrity. A hideous flinty plain, sev- 
 eral days' journey across, lies between it and the parallel valley of 
 the Nile, which forms the eastern boundary of the great Deserts of 
 Africa. 
 
 It appears thus, that insulated hills, or groups of them, generally 
 of naked sandstone or granite, are by no means uncommon through- 
 out the Sahara, where they appear like islands in the vast expanse. 
 The stony plains also are somewhat elevated, as are those of stiff 
 clay ; the sandy tracts lie lower ; and deeper still are the ravines 
 and basins which constitute the most peculiar and interesting feat- 
 ures of the Saharian landscape. The Desert boasts of no perma- 
 nent river ; but the winter rains give rise to temporary streams, 
 which fill these hollows, and then sink to some unknown depth in 
 the sand, or evaporate in the scorching heat of the summer sun. 
 Quad or Wady is the term used to designate the channels of these 
 temporary streams, which sometimes acquire, on account of the rapid- 
 ity of their fall, a velocity which uproots trees and spreads desola- 
 tion everywhere in 'its course. This is especially the case in the 
 northern oases. At that of Mzab, for instance, when the sky dark- 
 ens towards the north, a number of horsemen set out in that direc- 
 tion, and station themselves at regular distances on the highest 
 points of the land. If the torrent appears, the farthest of them 
 fires a gun ; the telegraphic signal is repeated from post to post, 
 and reaches the town in a few minutes. The inhabitants run imme- 
 diately to the gardens, to awake the men who may be sleeping there, 
 and in haste they carry away every object of value that might 
 become the prey of the devastating flood. Presently a dreadful 
 
THE DESERTS OP AFRICA. 221 
 
 noise announces the irruption of the torrent ; the soil of the gar- 
 dens disappears beneath the water ; and the Saharian city seem? 
 transported, as if by magic, to the banks of a broad and rapid river, 
 whence arise, like little isles of verdure, innumerable heads of palm- 
 trees an ephemeral ornament which disappears in a few days. 
 
 Some of the basins are very extensive, and contain beds of salt 
 considerable enough to be worked : such are the famous Traza, Tou- 
 deni, and Tishet. In latitude about thirty-four degrees north, and 
 nearly on the meridian of London, are two large basins, called Shott, 
 situated in a frightful desert, and divided from each other by an 
 isthmus from twenty-five to thirty miles broad. They present a 
 very singular formation, which would open an interesting field of 
 geological inquiry. The eastern basin is about one hundred and 
 twenty miles long, and the western about eighty-five, the mean 
 breadth of each being about six miles. These basins exhibit a fall 
 of the earth from thirty-five to sixty feet deep, nearly vertical, 
 and so perfectly clean and smooth that they appear as if wrought 
 out with a chisel. Dr. Jacquot, who examined them minutely in 
 1847, asserts that they could not have been produced by any grad- 
 ual action of water ; that they are evidently crateres de soulevement, 
 and bear the appearance of having been torn open by the convulsion 
 which upheaved the Atlas, their greater axis being parallel to that 
 chain, like most of the accidents of the Northern Sahara. Several 
 pluvial streams flow into these basins, and various small plants are 
 found in them ; but they become perfectly dry in summer. The 
 local tradition of the origin of the Shott is, that at a remote period 
 of antiquity, the Saharians, jealous of the fine sheet of water which 
 forms the boundary of the Tell, resolved to have a sea of their 
 own. With immense labor they excavated the two basins, and then 
 the question was how to get them filled. A numerous caravan was 
 equipped for the shores of the Mediterranean, with skins to bring 
 water for their artificial sea. Allah, incensed at their presumptu- 
 ous enterprise, destroyed them all by the way, and let loose a fear- 
 ful tempest on the splendid city which they had built for a port on 
 the sea which they contemplated. TJie ravages of time have effaced 
 the last vestiges of the unfortunate city ; but the basins of the Shott, 
 long, dreary, sterile craters, remain a witness of the power of God, 
 and the vanity of man. If this explanation of the origin of the 
 Shott affords little satisfaction to the geologist, it is fraught with 
 interest to the lover of Scripture truth, who finds here, as in almost 
 every country under heaven, a traditionary record, however imper- 
 fect, of the events which took place at Babel. 
 
 Many of the depressions of the Sahara, whether in the form of 
 
222 THE DESERTS OP AFRICA. 
 
 wads or basins, enjoy a constant supply of water by means of natural 
 or artificial wells, and have consequently been planted and inhabited : 
 these are the oases of the Desert; not to the eye of the geologist 
 like islands which rise above the surrounding expanse, but hollows 
 affording to animal and vegetable life not only the vivifying moist- 
 ure, but the no less needful shelter from the storms of the Desert. 
 These verdant spots, which are often hundreds of miles apart, pre- 
 sent considerable encouragement to the labors of the husbandman, 
 and are in general most favorable to the cultivation of the date-pahn 
 and other fruit trees. Onions, with various herbs and vegetables, 
 also find a congenial soil ; but grain does not appear to yield abun- 
 dant crops. The wide wastes abroad furnish for the most part a scanty 
 supply of coarse grass and small shrubs, serving as pasturage for the 
 cattle of many a nomade tribe ; but there are also extensive tracts 
 where not a morsel of verdure is to be seen. Nothing can exceed the 
 desolation of these regions : where there is no vegetable there can, 
 of course, be no animal life ; day after day the traveller wends his 
 way without seeing bird, beast, or insect ; no sound, no stir, breaks 
 the dreadful silence ; the dry heated air is like the breath of a foa- 
 nace, and the setting sun like a volcanic fire. The desert plains 
 that are much exposed to storms present an equally terrific scene, 
 but somewhat different : the sand is blown into clouds that fill the 
 atmosphere, darken the sun* at noonday, and almost suffocate the 
 traveller. Now the whirlwinds form it into columns ; and one of 
 the most magnificent and appalling sights in nature is presented, 
 " In the vast expanse of desert," says Bruce, " we saw towards the 
 north a number of prodigious pillars of sand at various distances, 
 sometimes moving with great velocity, sometimes stalking on with 
 majestic slowness. At intervals we thought they were coming in a 
 very few minutes to overwhelm us, and small quantities of sand did 
 actually reach us more than once : again they would retreat so as to 
 be almost out of sight, their tops reaching to the very clouds ; then 
 the summits often separated from the bodies, and these, once dis- 
 joined, dispersed in air, and did not appear more ; sometimes they 
 were broken in the middle, as if struck with large cannon-shot 
 At noon they began to advance with considerable swiftness upon us, 
 the wind being very strong at north. Eleven ranged alongside of 
 us about the distance of three miles ; the greatest diameter of the 
 largest appeared to me as if it would measure ten feet. They 
 retired from us with a wind at south-east, leaving an impression on 
 my mind to which I can give no name, though surely one ingredient 
 in it was fear, with a considerable deal of wonder and astonishment. 
 It was in vain to think of fleeing ; the swiftest horse could be of no 
 
THE DESERTS OF AFRICA. 223 
 
 use to carry us out of the danger and the full conviction of this riveted 
 me to the spot." Another traveller had an opportunity of seeing 
 one of these pillars crossing the River Gambia from the Great 
 Desert. "It passed," he says, "within eighteen or twenty 
 fathoms of the stern of the vessel, and seemed to be about 250 feet 
 in height; its heat was sensibly felt at the distance of 100 feet, and 
 it left a strong smell, more like that of saltpetre than sulphur, which 
 remained a long time." 
 
 Downs or sandhills form a prominent and remarkable feature of 
 the Saharian landscape. They are rounded elevations, smooth as 
 the cupola of polished marble, sterile as the rock of naked granite, 
 and of so uniform a color that they never appear to blend or confuse 
 with surrounding objects. During the day they wear the sombre 
 hue of a landscape at sunset ; but by moonlight one would think 
 them phosphorescent, from the brightness of the light sparkling in 
 the bosom of the shadows. In some situations the sand-hills seem 
 to be at the mercy of the wind, travelling at its bidding, and 
 settling here or there to rise and wander forth again. Others seem 
 to have found a permanent resting-place ; and this is generally, if 
 not always, in the shelter of a mountain-chain. Yet, strange to 
 say, the sands are not, in such a case, heaped against the mountain 
 sides, nor yet gathered into the hollows; they form a distinct, 
 secondary chain of themselves, corresponding in form and direction 
 with the primary, and separated from it by a broad valley, which is 
 covered here with pebbles, there with sand ; now with herbage, and 
 again with barrenness itself. 
 
 The camel, the sheep, and the goat, are the domestic animals of 
 the Sahara ; few wild ones of any kind are to be found in the open 
 desert. When the natives are asked about the lions which the 
 learned of Europe have given them for companions, they answer 
 with imperturbable gravity, that " perhaps in Christian countries 
 there are lions which browse on herbage and drink the air, but in 
 Africa they require running water and living flesh ; consequently 
 they never appear in the Sahara." The wooded mountains are 
 infested with them, but they have no inducement to descend into 
 the sandy plains. The only formidable creatures are of the viper 
 and scorpion kinds. Few else except timid and inoffensive species 
 are natural guests here : the principal are the gazelle, the ostrich, 
 the antelope, and the wild ass; but even these seem to venture 
 little beyond the skirts of the desert, except in the neighborhood 
 of mountains. The chameleon is common in the gardens of the 
 central oases, where it is allowed to roam unmolested, being rather 
 a favorite than otherwise. It is described as a most unsightly crea- 
 
824 
 
 THE DESERTS OP AFRICA. 
 
 ture, changing its color continually, but never exhibiting a hand- 
 some one. Its hues are dunnish red or yellow, and sometimes a 
 blackish brown ; it is often varied with spots or stripes, but fre- 
 quently without either. The construction of the eyes is remark- 
 able ; they seem to turn on a swivel, and are directed every way in 
 a moment. The Saharian traveller has frequent occasion to admire 
 the facility with which the camel turns its head and neck com- 
 pletely round, and looks north, south, east, and west, without 
 pausing, or even slackening its pace for an instant ; but he ceases to 
 wonder if he has ever observed the rapidity of the chameleon's eye. 
 
 Another singular creature is the thob, (perhaps Monitor pulchra,) 
 a large species of lizard not unlike a miniature alligator. It is 
 sometimes twenty inches long, and ten round the thickest part of 
 the body. It is covered with scaly mail, shining, and of a dark- 
 gray color, and has a tail four inches long, composed of a series of 
 broad, thick, and sharp bones. The head is large and tortoise- 
 shaped, the mouth small. It has four feet, or rather hands, on 
 which it runs awkwardly enough, owing apparently to its bulky tail. 
 It hides in the dry sandy holes of the Desert, and the Arabs say 
 that a single drop of water kills it. The traveller is glad to make 
 a meal of the thob ; and, prejudice apart, it is palatable food, not 
 unlike the kid of the goat. 
 
 Nor must we omit to mention the ouadad, or waden, an animal 
 described as between the goat and bullock in appearance. It is 
 hunted in the sands of the Central Desert, and its flavor is said to 
 resemble that of coarse venison. Three or four of these animals 
 were sent to the Royal Zoological Gardens of London a few years 
 ago. 
 
 The geology of the Desert is still involved in much obscurity. 
 Humboldt proposes the question : " Has this once been a region of 
 arable land, whose soil and plants have been swept away by some 
 extraordinary revolution ? Or is the reason of its nakedness that 
 the germs of vegetable life have not yet been fully and generally 
 developed? " The most recent opinion seems to be, that the latter 
 is the true state of the case ; that this expanse of desert has risen 
 from the ocean at a very recent period, subsequent even to the 
 throes which gave birth to the regions of the Atlas and Soudan. 
 The present aspect of its surface is exactly that which it must have 
 had while as yet submarine. The rocks hid beneath the ocean, and 
 continually swept by its waters, must tend to become even ; the 
 loose materials of the mountains being detached and precipitated 
 into the hollows till the culminating points present only so many 
 masses of smooth and solid rock. Travellers have marked this feat- 
 
THE DESERTS OF AFRICA. 225 
 
 ure of the desert mountains as contrasted with those of Morocco : 
 the latter exhibits wooded craggy heights, bared by winds, bitten 
 by frosts, and hoary with age, though they are considered to have 
 appeared after the formation of the tertiary strata that is, while 
 the crust of the earth was in its present state of development ; but 
 the hills of the Sahara are quite naked, dull and dead, smooth as 
 velvet, and exhibiting a black or purple hue of painful uniformity. 
 This is Mr. Richardson's report of those he met in his route south 
 from Tripoli ; and he mentions, what is yet more important, their 
 disposition north and south, which, if a general rule of disposition, 
 would go far to decide that they were not coeval with the Atlas 
 range. The immense quantities of sea-shells found, not only in the 
 limestone rocks, but in the sandy and pebbly plains, and the salt 
 which prevails everywhere, seem to favor the view that the sea has, till 
 very lately, covered the whole of the space now under consideration. 
 Diodorus Siculus mentions a lake of Hesperides in the interior of 
 Africa, which, according to ancient tradition, was suddenly dried 
 Up by a fearful convulsion of the earth ; and Malte Brun conjec- 
 tures that this lake could be no other than that which once covered 
 the Sahara. If we were to accept this hypothesis, we could at once 
 find the long-lost isle of Atlantides, without supposing the sub- 
 mergence of a country whose summits only remain in the Canaries 
 and Azores. The region of the Atlas Mountains, including the 
 fertile shores )f the Mediterranean, still wears the appearance of 
 a great island, washed on the south by the Sahara-belama, (sea 
 without water,) whose sands reach from the ocean to the Grulf of 
 Syrtis. If. however, the Atlantides of Plato must be placed in the 
 Atlantic, and beyond the pillars of Hercules, might not such a con- 
 vulsion as submerged this country have been sufficient to upheave 
 the Sahara? 
 
 Inhabitants of the Desert Berbers and Arabs their Habits, Occupa- 
 tions, and Migrations The Targhee and his Meharee The Tibboos 
 The Maraboot Tribes. ' 
 
 Many portions of this singular region are, as we have seen, unin- 
 habited and uninhabitable ; but by far the greater part is scantily 
 peopled by various tribes of two distinct nations. The aboriginal 
 race is that which has been denominated the Atlas Family, said to 
 have arisen from the mixture of the two primitive nations which 
 occupied Northern Africa in the earliest ages that is to say, the 
 Libyans in the East, and the Getulians in the West. The Romans,. 
 15 
 
226 THE DESERTS OF AFRICA. 
 
 and after them the Vandals, mingled themselves with this race ; 
 and in the Berber branch it now presents various elements which 
 the succession of generations and multiplicity of crosses have com- 
 bined into a homogeneous people. The other nation is the Arabs, 
 who are obviously invaders. Negroes are seldom to be met with in 
 the Desert except as slaves or occasional immigrants ; they are not 
 found as a population attached" to the soil ; and Jews have crept all 
 round its borders, but seem never to have ventured into its myste- 
 rious depths. 
 
 The Arab invasion of the Sahara seems to have commenced in the 
 west by Morocco, or the shores of the Atlantic, and to have advanced 
 eastward to the interior. All along the coast from Senegal to the 
 frontiers of Morocco, and thence to the neighborhood of the Joliba, 
 or Niger, they seem to have utterly expelled the ancient possessors 
 of the soil. Proceeding eastward, we find them mingled with 
 Berbers, but occupying a distinct social position, in the tract which 
 lies between the route from Harib to Timbuctoo, and that from Aga- 
 bli to the same place. Still further in the same direction, some are 
 found in the country about Mabrook ; but beyond this the nomades 
 of the Arab race disappear, and are not met with again till we reach 
 Darfoor. In all the towns, however such as Agades, Kashna, 
 &c. there are resident Arabs. A very powerful tribe of them, 
 called Shanbah, are the principal possessors of some of the oases of 
 Twat, and traverse the desert wastes north and west of these. 
 
 Of the above-mentioned tribes, those about the north and east 
 banks of the Senegal occupy certain limited districts, having no 
 occasion to change their locality; the most numerous of them is the 
 Ouled-Amer, whose territory is very considerable. It is otherwise 
 with those who live further north ; they are subject to annual migra- 
 tions, from the failure of pasture and water during the summer 
 months. The great tribe of the Ouled-Deleim, who in winter 
 occupy the country round Hoden, migrate in summer to the neigh- 
 borhood of Noon, where they possess wells and oases. A great 
 number both of Arab and Berber tribes of this part of the Sahara, 
 pass the summer in the empire of Morocco : such are the Harib, 
 who inhabit the town so called, and at the approach of winter dis- 
 perse southward to a distance of a hundred miles or more. So far 
 are these nomades from wandering at hap-hazard, as many suppose, 
 with then- flocks and herds, and sojourning for a time wherever they 
 chance to meet with herbage and water, each tribe has its own 
 region of pasturage when the rains of winter have spread a scanty 
 verdure on the Desert, "and its retreat in some well-watered spot 
 during the parching heat of the summer months. 
 
THE DESERTS OP AFRICA. 227 
 
 Such are the pastoral tribes of the West, and the same character 
 seems to apply throughout the Desert to those who follow similar 
 avocations. But the Shanbah above mentioned, and several other 
 tribes having their location about the commercial routes which con- 
 nect Morocco with Twat, and Twat with Tunis and Timbuctoo, 
 seem to combine the mercantile and piratical character in the highest 
 perfection, conducting and defending the caravans that engage their 
 protection by paying a sufficiently heavy tribute for passing through 
 their territories, while they plunder all others without mercy. 
 Their great rivals in both these branches of industry are the 
 Touarik, whose singular character and habits will merit a more par- 
 ticular description when we come to notice the more central tribes. 
 
 Throughout the whole extent of the Northern Sahara, where the 
 oases are numerous, we find the Berber and Arab races united by 
 ties of mutual dependence ; yet not more distinct in feature and 
 language than in their social position and employment. The 
 Arabs, true to their vagabond instincts, traverse the open country 
 with flocks and herds; undertake the transport of merchandise; 
 engage in the convoy or pillage of caravans ; and carry on, in short, 
 all that may be termed the external relations of the community. 
 They are the more numerous and wealthy, of course also the 
 dominant people. In the palmy days of the Hamian-garabas, a 
 single individual has been known to possess 2000 camels, and four 
 tiroes as many sheep. The Berbers, on the other hand, are the 
 sedentary population : they inhabit the oases, where the men employ 
 themselves in cultivating the gardens, and the women conduct the 
 manufactures. In their continual wanderings, the nomades cannot 
 carry all their property with them, and the ksour* become the 
 depositories of their goods. Many of them, besides, have pur- 
 chased land in the oases, and are obliged to employ the sedentary 
 inhabitants to cultivate it. On the other hand, as soon as the 
 modest accumulations of the ksourian permit, he buys a sheep, 
 which he confides to the pastoral care of the nomade tribe. Thus 
 the two nations, who seem to have nothing in common but their 
 religion, and between whom there is anything but cordiality of 
 feeling, are closely bound together by a reciprocity of interest, and 
 peace is the necessary result. 
 
 The French, who have been laboring these twenty years to sub- 
 jugate these people, say that the Arab submits, revolts, and sub- 
 mits again, again to commence the same alternation of rebellion and 
 
 * Ksar is the village of an oasis ; Ksour is the plural ; and Ksourian the 
 inhabitant. 
 
228 THE DESERTS OF AFRICA. 
 
 obedience, according to the impulse he receives from his own interest 
 or caprice, or from the instigation of the Maraboots ; the Berber 
 loves his independence, but when once he has been made to feel a 
 mightier power, he respects the oath that he has sworn. The Arab 
 ascapes the punishment of his perfidy by plunging with his tents and 
 flocks into deserts where no army can follow ; but the Berber is 
 confined to his ksar and his gardens. 
 
 Dr. Jacquot describes the first oasis he saw in Sahara as " a little 
 green corner, fresh and shady, cheered with the song of birds, and 
 enlivened by the murmur of waters. The dates waved their elegant 
 plumes high in the air ; the pomegranates and fig-trees crowded be- 
 tween the columns of the palms ; the wheat and barley clothed the 
 soil with verdure; the water flowed in every direction, and the 
 humid vapors vivified the foliage. One could not help trembling 
 for the little spot, it seemed such a feeble thing in the immensity of 
 the Desert, surrounded by desolate plains, and menaced by moving 
 sandhills." 
 
 This little oasis is about five eighths of a mile in length, and a 
 little less in breadth. It occupies the bottom of a narrow ravine, 
 which shelters it in almost every direction. It is enclosed by a mud 
 wall from seven to ten feet high, and from eight to twelve inches 
 thick, flanked with about five-and-twenty round towers, generally 
 built of stone. These are the sentry-boxes, on the flat roofs of 
 which are stationed nightly guards to protect the gardens from pil- 
 lage. The gardens of the oasis lie against the general wall, and are 
 divided into a number of small enclosures, each of which is a separate 
 property. Next to the gardens, towards the centre, are the fields 
 of corn, barley, and onions, likewise divided into small squares, 
 which are watered and tended like our favorite flower-beds, and 
 through the midst runs the Wady, which flows from four springs a 
 little above the ksar. 
 
 Such an oasis does not at all correspond with our preconceived 
 notions of these islands of the sandy ocean. It is not the immense 
 wild garden, which supplies in a day what will support its inhabi- 
 tants for a year ; it is not a spot where numerous species of fruits 
 and flowers crowd and mingle in luxuriant confusion ; it is not, in 
 short, the wild primitive oasis. It is niggardly nature, cultivated 
 even to torture by" human industry; it is wise, modest, economical 
 husbandry, which rejects the ostentation of useless foliage, and the 
 empty show of unproductive blossoms ; which refuses space for a 
 single tree or flower that is merely ornamental, and makes room for 
 those only which yield food for the sustenance of human life. The 
 ksar is built of stone, and presents the appearance of a single build- 
 
THE DESERTS OF AFRICA. 229 
 
 ing, or rather a mass of heavy masonry perforated here and there 
 with a small window, and diversified with jutting and retiring 
 angles. The flat roofs rise above e/ich other in irregular terraces, 
 and none of the streets are open to the exterior ; they are closed up 
 with masonry, affording no entrance but by four narrow doors. In 
 fact, there is no such thing as we should call a street, none being 
 open to the heavens above ; they are narrow, dark, often uneven 
 passages winding under the buildings. The main object in the con- 
 struction seems to have been tq pile the houses compactly together, 
 avoiding exterior openings, which might serve for the admission of 
 an enemy, and crowding as many human beings as possible into a 
 given space. About three hundred men, women, and children, a 
 lymphatic, sickly, scrofulous generation, are huddled together in this 
 ksar. 
 
 Some oases are considerably larger than the one we have described, 
 and some of the buildings are much more extensive ; but this gen- 
 eral plan, both as to the gardens and the dwellings, seems to obtain 
 throughout the northern and western portions of Sahara, where the 
 Berber race are in general the architects and husbandmen. 
 
 The most interesting structures, however, are not the ksour, but 
 the marabets, or sepulchral chapels, which stand outside the walls. 
 These are generally square, and surmounted by a cupola, the whole 
 being of stone or brickwork, executed by artisans brought from 
 Morocco for the express purpose. Sometimes the principal cupola 
 is flanked by four secondary ones, the interior presenting a court, 
 surrounded by a gallery, supported by Moorish arcades. The ostrich 
 egg, instead of a stone or rnetal ball, crowns the summit of these 
 pyramids. The ksourians choose to reserve all the luxury and mag- 
 nificence of their architecture to adorn the .little temples around 
 which they excavate their last resting-places. These are not, like 
 the habitations of the living, subject to the ravages of invading foes, 
 for they are universally held sacred ; and the conqueror, covered 
 with blood, approaches here with reverence, and prostrates himself 
 in lowly worship. Life is so ephemeral when the elements of nature 
 and the arms of the enemy continually threaten its existence, that 
 the ksourian cares not to lavish his wealth on the dwelling in which 
 he may remain but for a day : he reserves all his solicitude for that 
 which will shelter him forever from the storms of life. 
 
 The camel and the date are to the inhabitants of the African 
 deserts what the reindeer and the lichen are to those of the polar 
 regions ; and while many of. the less enterprising nomades live at 
 least two thirds of the year on camels' milk, so in the oases dates 
 
230 THE DESERTS OF AFRICA. 
 
 are the staple article of food, and aged ksourians may be found who 
 have never tasted bread. 
 
 The tree which produces this valuable fruit is the palm, which 
 gives so peculiar and- imposing an aspect to the verdant spots of- the 
 Desert. Its straight and lofty trunk, fifty, sixty, or even one hun- 
 dred feet high, is crowned by a tuft of large radiating leaves or fronds. 
 The calyx has six divisions, and the fruit is a drupe, consider- 
 ably larger than an acorn ; of a full red color when ripe, and en- 
 closing a hard kernel, from which it is easily separated. It is pulpy, 
 firm, esculent, and sweet, with slight astringency. The trees are 
 raised from shoots, which arrive at maturity in thirty years, and 
 continue in full bearing for seventy longer, producing yearly fifteen 
 or twenty clusters, which may weigh from fifteen to twenty pounds 
 each. 
 
 When any one wishes to make a date plantation, or to form a 
 garden, as the natives say, he summons the neighboring proprietors 
 to his assistance, and thus accomplishes his work with economy as 
 well as despatch ; for their services cost him nothing but the obliga- 
 tion to return the like when demanded : the only auxiliaries who 
 receive wages are those who are not proprietors. The whole of 
 the sand requires to be removed to the depth of several feet, in 
 order that the roots may reach the water ; besides, a trench is dug 
 round every stem at a proper distance, and into this, when neces- 
 sary, water is poured, in order that, sinking through the soil, it 
 may effectually reach those fibres that chiefly require it. This irri- 
 gation is generally committed to the women and children by those 
 who have no slaves ; and the precious fluid is carried in skins of 
 animals, or baskets of halfa, plaited so closely as to be water-tight. 
 In most cases canals are cut in every direction, communicating with 
 the springs which supply the oasis ; and where restriction is neces- 
 sary, each proprietor pays so much an hour for the flow of a stream 
 into his garden. In some of the oases, each has the respective right 
 of an hour or two, according to the title-deeds of his estate. The 
 time is measured by a rude chronometer held by the officer who 
 opens and shuts the conduit. 
 
 The mode of preserving dates is very simple. They are merely 
 pressed closely together in large woollen bags, and thus form com- 
 pact masses, which keep for several years. Sometimes a large 
 white worm is engendered in these, but it seems to occasion no dis- 
 gust. Every species of domestic animal in the Desert, even dogs 
 and horses, can make a meal of dates. But this fruit, however 
 valuable, is, as an aliment, very inferior to the cereals ; it is capable 
 of less variety of culinary preparation, and through time it produces 
 
THE DESERTS OF AFRICA. 231 
 
 painful satiety and fatigue of the digestive organs. Where little 
 else is to be had, the ksourian employs various devices to alleviate 
 the monotony of his fare : he cooks his dates with oil or butter, or 
 mingles them with onions and other vegetables, which are usually 
 cultivated in the date gardens. But the favorite ragout, especially 
 in the north, consists of locusts boiled in salt and water. At certain 
 seasons these creatures traverse the air in dense clouds, and fall in 
 numbers to the earth ; they are collected with care, and those which 
 are not used immediately, are dried and reduced to powder, which 
 is kept for times of scarcity. 
 
 The sap of the date-palm furnishes a highly-esteemed beverage, 
 called lagmi. To obtain this, it is necessary to cut off the higher 
 branches, and bore a lateral hole in the* stem thus tonsured ; into 
 this the end of a reed is introduced, and the liquor flows through it 
 rapidly, especially in the morning and evening. It is said that a 
 single tree will yield fourteen or fifteen quarts daily for two succes- 
 sive years, but it would perish in the third if the bleeding were 
 continued. The taste of the lagmi is not unlike sweet barley-water, 
 and by fermentation it may be transformed into an excellent drink 
 resembling cider. 
 
 The wood of the palm-tree is used for building : the trunk, sawn 
 in two along the grain, furnishes the joists and rafters ; the palm or 
 jerid is placed on these to form the lathing, and sometimes above all 
 is placed a layer of saaf or palm-leaf. All articles of carpentry 
 are made of this wood, and where it is very abundant it is even 
 used for fuel ; but more generally the latter consists of the withered 
 bushes which cover the sandy plains, where they are gathered by 
 the nomade tribes of the locality, and carried to the oases. 
 
 Every part of this valuable tree is turned to account. The 
 fibrous net- work which surrounds the branches where they attach 
 themselves to the stem is twisted into strong tough ropes, with which 
 the camels are tethered : the branches, besides the use we have men- 
 tioned, are made into baskets of various kinds, and the stones are 
 pounded, and used to fatten sheep and camels. Thus the date-palm 
 appears to be in Africa what the cocoa-nut is in the islands of the 
 Pacific : the native derives from it food, drink, habitation, and 
 almost every utensil he employs. In those places where money is 
 scarce a certain measure of dates, called a hatia, serves as a kind of 
 currency ; it is at least a usual term of comparison by which the 
 value of various articles of merchandise is estimated, even though 
 the measure varies in different places, and the price of dates rises 
 and falls with the seasons. 
 
 The woollen fabrics, which, with the cultivation of dates, form 
 
232 THE DESERTS OF AFRICA. 
 
 the principal object of Saharian industry, are chiefly burnooses, 
 haiks, and gandouras. The burnoose is the Arab cloak, which is 
 furnished with a hood ; the haik is a long rectangular piece of cloth, 
 which the men wrap round their heads, allowing the ends to fall 
 down over the body, while the women use it as a shawl, covering 
 the head and face with it, especially in cold weather. The gan- 
 doura is a kind of blouse, which reaches down to the feet. Through- 
 out the Desert the manufacture of these fabrics is devolved entirely 
 on the females, the men considering it enough if they attend, and 
 that but partially, to the husbandry ; the produce of the two occu- 
 pations proves in the market of about equal value ; and it is certain 
 that the merit of a wife in the Sahara is estimated by her dexterity 
 in weaving rather than by her personal charms. The northern 
 oases produce the finest goods ; but in every part of the Desert the 
 women make some attempt at manufacturing ; even those of the 
 nomade tribes weave the coarse stuff which forms their tents and 
 the sacks for loading their camels. The material used is a mixture, 
 variously proportioned, of the hair of camels and goats; the former 
 raises the price, as it is considered more impervious to rain. The 
 color of the tents is that by which the great noinade tribes, when 
 encamped, distinguish each other from afar, the darkest being the 
 most aristocratic. 
 
 The Arab dress is used both by nomades and ksourians. They 
 shave the head, preserving only the lock of which the Angel of 
 Death is to lay hold and carry them up to paradise. This religious 
 belief has set a peculiar stamp on all the nations of Islamism ; and 
 if the disciple of Mohammed makes a point of decapitating his 
 already lifeless foe, it is not for the sake of committing a wanton 
 outrage on the corpse, but in order to make him feel, even in another 
 world, the weight of his vengeance ; for a headless body is doomed 
 to rot on the ground, and the soul that animated it to wander for- 
 ever far from the happy gardens promised in the Koran as the 
 eternal residence of the faithful. 
 
 A white woollen ha'ik, a kind of frock without sleeves, Morocco 
 slippers, and a silk girdle, compose the dress of the wealthier female 
 Saharians. Necklaces, bracelets, and rings, complete the toilet of a 
 woman of quality, who besides stains her eyelashes black, and gives 
 a yellow color to her nails, the palms of her hands, and the instep 
 of her foot, with a decoction of lausonia inermis. Tattooing, the 
 indelible and economical adornment both of rich and poor, consists 
 4 only of small and scattered designs the Saharian population being 
 in this respect far behind the great artists of New Zealand. They 
 go unveiled, and seem under less restriction than is usual in most 
 
, THE DESERTS OF AFRICA. 233 
 
 other communities of Islamism. Polygamy is freely indulged with- 
 in the limits prescribed by the Koran. 
 
 Indolence seems to be the besetting sin of all the tribes of the 
 Sahara : when not travelling, they will sleep in the open air twenty 
 hours out of the twenty-four ; yet, when excited by any serious oc- 
 currence or important interest, they are capable of acting with con- 
 siderable energy, and sustaining great fatigue. On the whole, how- 
 ever, they seem better adapted for patient toil and endurance than 
 for vigorous and enterprising activity. Pride and ostentation are 
 distinguishing features of their character ; and on the other hand 
 are the patriarchal virtues of reverence for parents, obedience to all 
 constituted authority, and cordial hospitality towards strangers. 
 That, however, which strikes a stranger perhaps most of all, is their 
 unparalleled resignation to what they believe to be the divine will ; 
 that " it is decreed," seems to reconcile them to the severest suffer- 
 ings, and not a murmur escapes from their lips. Nor must we omit 
 to mention the fertile imagination, of which the Arab has lost noth- 
 ing by being translated from the deserts of Asia to those of Africa : 
 every spot has its legend, every rock its marvellous tale ; a good 
 story-teller is welcomed and feasted under every tent, where the 
 family, squatting in a circle, listen with avidity to tales, in which 
 the Deity is continually represented as revealing himself to man by 
 miraculous interferences. 
 
 Within the last few years considerable light has been thrown on 
 the social condition of the northern tribes, arid interesting particu- 
 lars have been collected respecting their periodical migrations. The 
 nomades pass the winter and spring in the open Desert, where, dur- 
 ing this part of the year, they find both water and vegetation ; but 
 they sojourn only three or four days in one spot,- and strike their 
 tents as soon as the pasture is consumed. Towards the end of 
 spring they visit the oases where their goods are deposited, load 
 their camels with dates and woollen cloth, and proceed northward, 
 taking with them the whole nomade city, including women, children, 
 dogs, flocks, and tents. Now, the waters of Sahara are drying up, 
 and the plants are withering, while in the Tell the grain is ripening. 
 They arrive in the season of harvest, when the price of corn is low, 
 and the juncture is doubly favorable for abandoning the now sterile 
 Sahara, and finding the markets of the Tell overflowing with cereals 
 Here, then, they spend the summer months in the activities of com- 
 merce, exchanging their dates and woollen goods for barley, raw 
 wool, sheep, and butter. Now, also, the lands of the Tell are vacant, 
 the harvest having been gathered in; and the soil is improved 
 rather than injured by their cattle, which are permitted freely to 
 
234 THE DESERTS OF AFRICA. 
 
 browse upon it. The close of summer is the signal for departure 
 a summons hailed with joy, as announcing the time for returning 
 to their native country. Again loading their camels and striking 
 their tents, the moving cities turn towards the south, and make their 
 way into the Desert by short journeys as they came. They arrive 
 at the oases just when the dates are ripe that is, toward the end 
 of October; a month is required, even with their assistance, to 
 gather and house them ; another is spent in exchanging their corn, 
 barley, raw wool, &c., for the dates which have been gathered, and 
 the woollen fabrics which have been produced during the year by 
 female industry. These are now carefully deposited in the maga- 
 zines, and the nomade tribes retire from the oases, conducting their 
 flocks from pasture to pasture in the open country, till the return 
 of summer demands a repetition of the same journeyings and the 
 same labors. During the date harvest, a load of corn in the 
 Desert is worth two of dates ; while in the Tell, at the corn harvest, 
 a load of dates is worth two of grain. This general rule is subject 
 to little variation ; so that if a grower conducts his traffic without 
 any intermediate agent, he realizes a profit of three hundred per 
 cent. 
 
 The extensive tract of country which lies between the line from 
 Agabli to Timbuctoo, and that from Gadamis to Kashna, is the 
 principal though not the only range of the Touarik.^ They constitute 
 not a tribe merely, but a great nation, divided into several sections, 
 of which each has its sultan and subordinate chiefs. It is impos- 
 sible to form any correct estimate of their numbers. A large pro- 
 portion are pastoral tribes, feeding their flocks in the desert wastes ; 
 the rest are engaged in commerce and piracy. Several large towns 
 and numerous villages along the frontiers of Soudan and in the 
 Hogger Mountains serve them as depots. The Touarik are a white- 
 skinned race, and supposed to be a branch of the Atlas family, older 
 and purer than the Berber: their language is a dialect of that 
 spoken by the Berbers of the Tell and the northern oases, but 
 characterized by a roughness which has led to its being called by 
 Europeans the " German of the Desert :" it seems to approximate 
 most to the language of the Gouanches, the aborigines of the Canary 
 Islands. 
 
 Placed between the white race and the black, the Touarik are the 
 terror of both, and appear now with savage ferocity to avenge them- 
 selves on the descendants of those who drove their fathers into the 
 Deserts. That section of them which is found along the borders of 
 
 * The singular is Targhee. 
 
THE DESERTS OF AFRICA. 235 
 
 Soudan is said to be in the highest degree sanguinary and faithless. 
 To ambush in the neighborhood of the little towns inhabited by 
 negroes to rush upon them at dead of night to seize them, throw 
 them on their meharees, and fly with the swiftness of the wind 
 such is the principal branch of industry pursued by these formi- 
 dable robbers. When they have formed a sufficient collection of 
 hapless victims, they repair to the market of Ghat or Ghadamis, 
 and sell them to the merchants of the north who frequent those 
 towns. Sometimes, after having delivered to the purchasers all that 
 they obtained in the " razia," as negro-hunting or stealing is called, 
 they set out again, waylay the caravan of their customers, and bear 
 away the slaves whom they have so recently sold. The merchants 
 may, if they please, return to the market, purchase them a second 
 time, and take care to hire a strong enough escort before undertak- 
 ing the journey again. 
 
 Along the route from Demergon and Kashna to Ghadamis, the 
 various Touarik act as convoys to merchant-caravans ; but in every 
 other direction, and especially on the frequented lines between Tim- 
 buctoo and the oases of Twat, they plunder without mercy. Though 
 they wander through every part of Central Africa and the Desert, none 
 of them can be prevailed on to visit the coast ; and the inhabitants 
 of Morocco, Algeria, and Tripoli, know them only by the report 
 of the Arab tribes who traverse the northern portions of Sahara. 
 
 It is worth while here to remark the errors that attach to hear- 
 ing only one side of a story, especially with reference to regions so 
 imperfectly known. The more recent English travellers, as Andney, 
 Clapperton, and Richardson, having entered the Desert by Tripoli, 
 and pursued the route which the Touarik keep under their exclusive 
 control, found them much less formidable than they anticipated ; but 
 they speak of the Shanbah as banditti of the most ruthless and 
 reckless character, who, having no stake like the Touarag in the 
 commerce of the Desert, have been celebrated from time immemo- 
 rial as the robbers and assassins of Sahara. " To be a brigand," says 
 Mr. Richardson, " is with them a hereditary honor ; and they are 
 the dread of the people of Wad-reklah, as well as of foreign mer- 
 chants and caravans^ They have a well scooped out in the sandy 
 regions where their tents are pitched ; and here they live in horrid 
 security, defying all law and authority, human and divine. Around 
 them is an immensity of sandy wastes, and none dare pursue them 
 into their dens. Horses would be useless, and it would require, 
 says the Ghadamsee Rais, two hundred men, with four hundred 
 camels, eight hundred water skins, and provisions for two months, 
 
236 THE DESERTS OP AFRICA. 
 
 to make the least impression on them. Their numbers are recruited 
 from various other Arab tribes, whose outlaws join their ranks." 
 
 The French writers, on the other hand, represent the Shanbah, 
 or Cha'ambi, whom it is their interest to conciliate, from their prox- 
 imity to Algeria, as the most industrious and enterprising merchants 
 of the Desert, and the Touarag as the parasites, the corsairs in 
 fact, the only redoubtable enemies to be feared in the sandy ocean. 
 The truth is. that the Touarag and the Shanbah are neighbors, and 
 at the same time deadly, irreconcilable, and national foes ; the latter 
 being pure Arabs, and the former the aboriginal race of the country. 
 Generally, there remains a considerable space between them ; but if 
 the nomade tribes reach at the same time the furthest limits of their 
 respective territories, a collision is inevitable. Plunder is the main 
 object of the Shanbah, and their preparations include means of 
 transport as well as weapons of war. The principal objects of their 
 desire are meharees and slaves, or, if they can get nothing better, 
 camels and sheep. Sometimes, however, they carry off nothing but 
 the killed and wounded : such are the chances of war. Vengeance 
 for these assaults, and a deep-settled abhorrence of the Shanbah 
 tribe, seem to be the great excitements to warfare on the part of 
 the chivalrous Touarag ; and the recital of their adventures is car- 
 ried by each party to their homes the French nation receiving 
 the Arab story with embellishments, through their tributaries, while 
 those who pass by Ghat and Ghadamis hear the other side. 
 
 In the Deserts of Africa, as well as in those of Asia, the hand 
 of the Arab is against every man, and every man's hand against 
 him ; and it is to be feared that throughout the Sahara a stranger 
 and an enemy, a merchant and a robber, are terms nearly synony- 
 mous ; that hostile tribes seldom meet without collision ; and that pil- 
 lage is the unquestioned right of the victor. Yet in the Targhee 
 towns theft is said to be quite unknown, except as occasionally 
 practised by the tributaries or slaves. Fidelity and hospitality 
 seem also to distinguish these rovers : those who commit themselves 
 to their protection will be defended with the last drop of their blood, 
 and nothing is so offensive to the high-minded Targhee as to be dis- 
 trusted. The reader smiles, perhaps, at the very mention of chiv- 
 alry, high-mindedness, and the demand of confidence in connection 
 with the freebooters of the Sahara ; but let him know that through- 
 out the length and breadth of the Desert they carry the letters of 
 the merchants unsealed, yet sacredly inviolable. If an inquisitive 
 European asks to see them, he is peremptorily informed that it is 
 fiaram (prohibited) to read these documents. 
 
 Besides their revengeful and piratical habits, which are indeed 
 
THE DESERTS OF AFRICA. 237 
 
 legitimate causes of dread, the singularity of their appearance and 
 manner combine to render the Touarag objects of terror throughout 
 the Desert. They are tall, some of them even gigantic, and gener- 
 ally slender and nimble ; hence the Arabs give them the appellation 
 of lath or beam beams which become transformed into living 
 catapults when they are animated by the desire either of pillage or 
 vengeance. While the Arab dress is used by all the other inhabi- 
 tants of the Desert, the Touarag maintains a peculiar costume. It 
 consists of wide pantaloons, and a variable number of vestments, in 
 the form of loose gowns or blouses, with wide sleeves. These are 
 made of a cotton cloth called saie, which is brought from the negro 
 country ; it is only a few inches broad, generally of .different shades 
 of blue, and variously striped. Whether in the town or tent, they 
 generally wear at least three of these garments, the outermost of 
 which is ornamented with rich embroidery in gold, forming irregular 
 designs, and particularly heavy on the left breast and right shoulder- 
 blade. When they betake themselves to the open country, they 
 add other two blouses of a dark blue color, and the ha'ik or barracan, 
 which is a long woollen scarf, worn over the shoulders. But the 
 great distinguishing feature of the male Targhee dress is the litham ; 
 a thin piece of cloth wound round the head, and then covering the 
 forehead, the eyes partially, and the mouth and chin. The stuff of 
 which this is composed is varnished with gum, to prevent the adhe- 
 sion of the sand : thus are the mouth and eyes defended from cut- 
 ting winds and drifting sande, arid the wearer can travel several 
 days longer without feeling parched in the absence of water. The 
 Touarag pluck out the beard, contrary to the usage of the Berbers 
 and Arabs, amd'ng whom it is a sacred ornament. A huge spear is 
 carried in the right hand, the dagger is fastened under the left 
 arm, and the sword swings behind. We must not omit to mention, 
 also, that a profusion of talismans are strung round the neck ; and 
 so great is the confidence attached to them, that similar charms are 
 hung round their meharees, to preserve them from the mange, and 
 even on the date trees, to save them from blight. 
 
 " Though professing the Moslem faith," say our French inform- 
 ants, " the Touarag are not considered by any means very scrupu- 
 lous in the performance of its duties." It seems that those who live 
 in or near the negro country mingle the idolatrous rites of Feti- 
 chism with the observances of the Koran ; but the Arabs look upon 
 the whole race as heretics, from the singularity of their language 
 and costume, and especially from the fact that in the shape of their 
 weapons and the designs of their ornaments they manifest a decided 
 predilection for the form of the cross, so abhorrent to those Mussul- 
 
238 THE DESERTS OF AFEICA. 
 
 mans that recognize in it the emblem of the Christian faith. The 
 handle of the Targhee sabre and the front of the saddle take this 
 shape, and the cross is the favorite pattern of the embroidery on his 
 dress. It is doubtless with indignant reference to these departures 
 from orthodoxy that the Arabs of Sahara denominate the Touarag 
 the " Christian of the Desert." Yet our English travellers de- 
 scribe them as spiteful in their religious bigotry, if not scrupulous 
 in their practice. Children scarcely two years old would run out 
 of their dwelling, spitting and crying, " Kafer ! Kafer ! " (infidel !) 
 The wonderful descriptions which these gentlemen gave of European 
 arts, for the entertainment of the natives, were constantly answered 
 by the remark " Christians know everything but God." As Mr. 
 Richardson sat one day in the open court of his house, about an 
 hour and a half before sunset, during the great feast called Rama- 
 dan, a Targhee entered, and standing before him in an erect posture, 
 with kis long spear in the right hand, he stretched the left towards 
 heaven, looked upwards, and addressed him in a solemn, measured 
 tone : " And thou Christian ! thou fastest thus ! Thy 
 father knoweth not God! Thou art a Kafer he is a 
 Kafer and the fire will devour you both at last ! " 
 
 The female Touarag are said to be " fair as Christian women," 
 pretty, coquettish, and saucy. Their dress is very simple, consist- 
 ing merely of a chemise and short-sleeved frock, with a haik. They , 
 wear bracelets, anklets, &c., of painted wood, if they cannot afford 
 the precious metals ; and round their necks are hung talismans, 
 pieces of coral, and occasionally small mirrors. They go unveiled, 
 and seem at perfect liberty ; for here, again, the Targhee character 
 differs from the Arab in the absence of that conjugal jealousy which 
 marks the Mussulman of the East. The perfection of Targhee 
 beauty is not embonpoint, like the Mooresses and Negresses ; but, 
 as the Arabs say or sing, " Slender as the bending rush, or taper 
 lance of Yemen." 
 
 Another point of civilization in which this race are in advance of, 
 both the Moors and Arabs is, that spoons are in very general use 
 among them. These are made of wood, and exceedingly neat a 
 negro manufacture, as we remarked of the cotton cloth. 
 
 Of all the tribes of Africa, the Touarag alone have an indigenous 
 alphabet, and most of them read and write their own characters 
 not indeed on paper or parchment, but on the sand and the dark 
 rocks with which their country abounds. 
 
 Their principal market is Ghat, and their capital Agades. The 
 latter is a fine town, built like Tunis : it is the residence of the 
 sultan of one section of the Touarag. The subordinate chiefs exer- 
 
THE DESEKTS OF AFRICA. 239 
 
 cise much authority ; and, on the whole, the government seems to 
 be a kind of irregular oligarchy. That which renders travelling so 
 dangerous here, as in every part of the Desert, is, that the stranger 
 may place himself under the protection of a convoy at Agades, for 
 example, but his way may be through the territory of a different or 
 even a hostile tribe of the same nation ; and he has no security in 
 case of meeting with a stronger party belonging to it. Timbuctoo 
 is the goal which the European adventurer generally wishes to 
 attain ; but the Touarag who command the route south from Gha- 
 damis will not undertake to protect him westward, because those who 
 surround, and indeed blockade, Timbuctoo, are not amenable to the 
 government at Agades. 
 
 Aheer is another important oasis of the Touarag. Its houses, 
 unlike those of the Berbers, are circular, and stand far asunder, 
 so that they spread over a considerable space. They are built of 
 small stones mixed with red earth ; a dome of thatch forms the 
 roofing ; and, as a security against the wind, each dwelling has four 
 doors, one looking to each point of the compass. The wells are con- 
 stantly supplied with water, and there are cisterns to receive that 
 which falls from the clouds. This neighborhood is the favorite soil 
 of the senna plant. Its flowers are yellow, the leaves very large, 
 and, except at the edges, of a dark purple color. Large quantities 
 of it are sent northward, packed in sacks of palm leaves, which 
 require to be renewed at Ghat. The natives wonder what we do 
 with so much medicine : they have no idea of the millions of Euro- 
 pean population ; still less of the quantity and variety of eatables 
 and drinkables with which we overload and disorder the digestive 
 system. The people of the Sahara use very little physic ; their 
 principal demands on the healing art are occasioned by external in- 
 juries, for which burning, bleeding, and charms are their favorite 
 remedies. To these some add manipulation, and after a severe 
 fall every muscle is stretched, rubbed, and coaxed with the utmost 
 assiduity. 
 
 In all his expeditions, whether honest or dishonest, the meharee 
 is the inseparable companion of the Targhee. It seems to bear the 
 same relation to the common camel that the racer does to the 
 draught horse ; but of all animals it is perhaps that which, from the 
 nature of the country it inhabits, and of the service it is doomed to 
 perform, has been the least made an object of observation and study. 
 The only country that agrees with it is the Central Desert : it can- 
 not live either in the northern part of Africa or in the mountainous 
 country of Nigritia. Even every part of the Desert does not seem to 
 agree equally well with it; for the Shanbah and the Ommadi, 
 
240 THE DESERTS OF AFRICA. 
 
 though very covetous of these animals, rear few if any for them- 
 selves. Nature seems to have appropriated them to the special ser- 
 vice of the Targhee. They are the affectionate companions of his 
 roving life, the docile, intelligent, and disinterested instrument of 
 his piracies. The servant and the master seem to have been cast 
 in the same mould. The meharee is very tall, and, from being of 
 light and slender make, appears to stand considerably higher than 
 the camel. His neck is remarkably long, his legs thin and deli- 
 cate, and his bunch projects but little. His countenance, like that 
 of the camel, is careless and imperturbable ; but, under this sorry 
 aspect and seeming indolence, he conceals qualities which might 
 almost make him the king of beasts a fidelity and gentleness 
 which are proof against every trial, a sagacity resembling that of the 
 dog, and a swiftness far superior to that of the horse. Like his 
 master, he has a physical organization adapted to the region in 
 which his lot is cast in the midst of immense plains, between an 
 arid soil and a burning sun, compelled to travel great distances in 
 search of food, and continually exposed to the sultry breath of the 
 south wind, he is endowed with singular powers of resistance to all 
 these elements of destruction. Accustomed to the scanty herbage 
 afforded by his native sands, the meharee does not seem to feel it 
 any luxury to browse on the richer pastures of the coast ; he is 
 made for the Desert, sterile and ungracious as it is, and can live 
 nowhere else. The Arabs attribute the danger of his expatriation 
 to a poisonous little plant called drias, which does not grow in the 
 Targhee country, but is so like a wholesome one on which the ani- 
 mal is accustomed to feed, that he crops it without perceiving the 
 difference, and perishes the victim of his mistake. However this 
 may be, meharees seldom appear even in the northern oases, except 
 at Metili and Wad-reklah, whither they are occasionally brought by 
 the Shanbah, who have purchased or stolen them from their natural 
 masters. 
 
 As the transport of goods rarely demands great speed, the com- 
 mon camel is almost exclusively used for this purpose, the maharee 
 being reserved for services requiring expedition. He renders val- 
 uable assistance to caravans which, when preparing to set out, gen- 
 erally despatch avantrcouriers, mounted on swift coursers, to recon- 
 noitre the route, and ascertain whether it is supplied with water, and 
 whether beset with any danger. But it appears that the meharee 
 cannot and does not make any companionship with the coast camel. 
 If the two incidentally meet, both show agitation and alarm ; but 
 the camel confesses its inferiority by scampering off as fast as possi- 
 ble The natives divide their meharee, or meharees, into ten 
 
THE DESERTS OF AFRICA. 241 
 
 classes, according to their swiftness ; the lowest comprehends those 
 which can make about twenty-five of our miles in a day, and the 
 highest those which clear eight or nine times that space. It is con- 
 fidently asserted that a good meharee can travel seventy or eighty 
 miles, day after day continuously ; and that, in an extreme case, 
 one of them made the journey from Ghadamis to Tripoli, a distance 
 of about 2GO of our miles, in one day, but the rider expired from 
 exhaustion immediately on his arrival. 
 
 The mode of rearing this favorite animal is curious. As soon as 
 he is born he is plunged to the neck in fine shifting sand, lest hia 
 soft and slender limbs should be bent by supporting the weight of 
 his body ; and for fourteen days he is fed on a diet chiefly of but- 
 ter and milk, the composition and quantity of which vary every 
 day, according to established and well-known rules. At the end 
 of a month he is allowed to run; an iron ring is then passed 
 through his nose, and his education commences. When well 
 trained, the meharee displays remarkable sagacity. If his rider 
 chooses to plant his spear in the ground, in the midst of a rapid 
 course, the animal, attentive to the slightest intimation of his 
 wishes, turns round the weapon, to enable him to regain it, and 
 resumes the course without slackening his pace for a moment. 
 When the warrior falls in battle, the faithful charger stretches him- 
 self on the ground, as if inviting him again to mount his back. If 
 he is able to do so, he bears him gently but swiftly from the scene 
 of carnage ; but if the Targhee remains silent and motionless, the 
 meharee hastens to the town or douar* of his habitation, exhibiting 
 the empty saddle to the bereaved family. The women now com- 
 mence the death-dirge the children set up piercing cries the 
 whole community is thrown into excitement and alarm, and the 
 horizon is watched with anxious solicitude. Some spots appear 
 they increase they approach ; they are other meharees without 
 their rulers mute but truthful messengers of sorrow, confirming 
 the intelligence that the troop has been defeated, and the loved 
 ones are no more. The animals seldom all return, however the 
 victors generally succeed in capturing some of them; and they 
 bring a high price when exposed for sale. A good meharee cannot 
 be had for less than 720 boujous (about* 30 sterling) ; whereas a 
 common camel costs about 50 (.3 15s). It is, therefore, among 
 all the tribes except the Touarik, an unusual and aristocratic means 
 of locomotion. 
 
 Eastward of the route between Fezzan and Bornoo commences a 
 
 * A village of tents. 
 16 
 
242 THE DESERTS OF AFRICA. 
 
 black population denominated Tibboos, and supposed to number 
 150,000. This is a native race, probably of great antiquity, and 
 enumerated by geographers as one of the branches of the Atlas 
 family. Though black, the style of their features is strikingly dis- 
 similar to the negro. They are described as a gay, lively, thought- 
 less race, with all the African passion for the song and the dance, 
 which last they practise with considerable grace. Their occupa- 
 tions are chiefly pastoral, and their principal subsistence is derived 
 from the milk of their camels. Besides, they carry on a small 
 traffic with the north in slaves, which they kidnap in the negro 
 country ; and with the south in the natron and salt, which their 
 country produces in abundance. Bilma is their capital a mean 
 collection of mud hovels, but surrounded by lakes containing the 
 purest salt. A predatory warfare is kept up between the Tibboos 
 and their powerful neighbors the Touarik. In open fight the Tib- 
 boos have no chance ; when invaded, they climb the rocks in the 
 shelter of which their villages are always built, carrying with them 
 whatever they can remove. The Touarik sweep away all that is 
 left, and load their camels with the salt which is so valuable as an 
 article of trade. In return, the Tibboos give considerable annoy- 
 ance by frequent and stealthy incursions into the Targhee country. 
 
 A singular feature in the social character of the Tibboos is said 
 to be the dominance of the female sex in the hut and the tent. 
 The man may be the lord of creation in the open country, where, 
 indeed, he passes two thirds of his time, but at home he is knocked 
 about at the pleasure of his managing spouse. When a caravan 
 for salt is coming from Aheer, the men turn out and betake them- 
 selves to the mountains, with provision for a month, leaving the 
 women to transact the business. 
 
 Throughout the Saharian Desert, an aristocracy seems to attach 
 to the blood of the saints, and some of the Maraboot tribes are 
 among the most wealthy and powerful to be met with. Such are 
 the Shereefs, who, in 1516, overthrew the dynasty of Morocco, and 
 placed on the throne one of their own sheiks, by whose family it is 
 still occupied. By this tribe is conducted most of the commerce 
 of Morocco eastward through the northern states, which they sup 
 ply with their own and European manufactures ; and also to Twat, 
 where they command several oases. The Oulad-sidi-Sheiks are 
 another venerable tribe, who claim descent from a favorite caliph 
 of the Prophet ; and who, by their numbers, nobility, wealth, and 
 sanctity, exercise a powerful influence throughout the date country. 
 In token of their aristocracy, they dwell under tents of black 
 woollen fabric, surmounted with ostrich plumes, of which the size 
 
THE DESERTS OP AFRICA. 243 
 
 varies according to the rank and fortune of each family. By this 
 token they are distinguished from the vulgar population of the 
 Algerine Sahara, which is the land of their habitation. 
 
 Still more remarkable for this incongruous union of the sacer- 
 dotal and mercantile professions are the inhabitants of Grhadamis. 
 To a religious scrupulosity that would tremble at a drop of prohib- 
 ited medicine falling on their garments, they add a spirit of com- 
 merce which is arrested by no difficulty, and daunted by no peril. 
 They plunge into the Desert, eager in pursuit of gain, even when 
 it is known to be infested with cutthroats ; "it is decreed," the 
 moment of their death is registered in the book of fate, and no 
 recklessness on their part can antedate the record. With scrupu- 
 lous exactitude, and with apparent earnestness, too, they pray five 
 times daily while en route, the laws of the Koran allowing them 
 to choose their own time under these circumstances ; yet they make 
 no scruple about buying and selling the unfortunate negro, and this 
 traffic in human flesh is the most lucrative branch of their com- 
 merce. The elder men, who have retired from the activities of life, 
 and indeed all the resident inhabitants of Ghadamis, seem to pass 
 their whole time in formal devotional exercises. Even the women 
 here are admitted to have souls, and are carefully instructed in the 
 Koran, besides being taught to repeat the usual prayers and tradi- 
 tionary legends. 
 
 Unhappily the Turks, having incurred considerable expense in 
 establishing their sovereignty at Tripoli, cast their eyes on this spot 
 as an El Dorado for the replenishment of their exhausted coffers. 
 A pretext was found for levying a heavy tribute ; and, though the 
 holy Maraboot city of the Desert had taken no part in the turmoils 
 of the coast, and though the pacific character of its inhabitants 
 might well have exempted them from interference, yet a Turkish 
 garrison was placed within their walls, the women and children 
 were stripped of their gold and silver ornaments, private dwellings 
 were ransacked to meet the exorbitant demands of the Ottoman 
 Porte, and the city, which had flourished for ages in the pursuit of 
 its peaceful commerce, is now groaning under oppression, and 
 threatened with utter ruin. The Turkish rule has fallen like the 
 lightning's blast, to wither one of the fairest palms of the African 
 Desert. 
 
 The Commerce of the Desert Various Modes of Travelling Best Modes 
 of Exploring these Regions. 
 
 BESIDES the traffic which we have had occasion to mention as 
 carried on by some of the nomade tribes for the supply of their 
 
244 THE DESERTS OF AFRICA. 
 
 immediate wants, there is a regular and extensive system of com- 
 merce across the Sahara, by which the civilized States of Europe 
 are brought into communication with the Negroland of Interior 
 Africa. This commercial system is sufficiently complicated on 
 account of the difficulties attending the transit, and the various 
 and even hostile interests that are engaged in it. The productions 
 of Europe cannot be transmitted, as is commonly imagined, into 
 the populous regions of Central Africa by caravans equipped in 
 Morocco, Algiers, Tunis, or Tripoli. The commerce of Sahara is 
 by no means so simple a matter. For instance, a bale of goods 
 from Tunis, destined for the south, is carried by native merchants 
 to Khabs, the most southern oasis of the Tunisian Sahara. Here it 
 is purchased by merchants from Ghadamis, who convey it to their 
 own city, where it becomes associated with commodities from Trip- 
 oli, Algiers, and Egypt. It proceeds, generally after changing 
 hands at Grhadamis, by the great annual caravan to Ghat, and is 
 there exchanged for the productions of Soudan. Now, under the 
 care of the Touarik, it finds its way to the country of the blacks ; 
 but we have no certain details of their mode of doing business. 
 This is the eastern route. Towards the west, the progress is 
 somewhat similar. Goods from the various towns of Morocco and 
 Algeria are carried by native tribes to Tafilet, Metili, &c. They 
 are poured into the market of El-Golea by the redoubtable Shanha, 
 or the sacerdotal Shereefs. Thence, by the same tribes and the 
 Ommadi, they are conveyed to their respective markets in the oases 
 of Twat ; but from Twat to Timbuctoo they must be in charge of 
 the Khensafa, or the all-powerful Touarik. There are some few 
 individuals who accompany their goods through all their wander- 
 ings; these are generally the merchants of Ghadamis, who can 
 travel the whole of the eastern route under Targhee protection ; or 
 the Shanbah, who may succeed in fighting their way on the west- 
 ern. The commerce presents different characters in these two 
 directions. Tunis and Tripoli export chiefly objects of luxury 
 from Europe as silk, and other articles of mercery; pearls, 
 cloves, cinnamon, perfumery, paper, cloth, &c. Morocco, on the 
 other hand, furnishes objects of more immediate necessity such 
 as grain, sheep, and wool. Placed between the two, Algiers 
 might partake of both, but the ravages of war have turned aside 
 the caravans from her oases. The staple commodities brought back 
 from Soudan are negro slaves, gold-dust, elephants' teeth, senna, 
 ostrich-feathers, buffalo-hides, the blue cotton made in the negro 
 country, gour-nuts for staining the teeth, &c. The two last arti- 
 cles do not reach the northern states, but are disposed of among 
 
THE DESERTS OF AFRICA. 245 
 
 the inhabitants of the Desert ; and it is to be noted that the oases 
 are places of consumption and production, as well as of exchange. 
 They absorb a large portion of the merchandise, both of the north 
 and south, on its way; while to the former they add salt and na- 
 trona, to the latter, dates and fine woollen cloth. 
 
 Each considerable town of the Desert becomes periodically a 
 sook or fair. An English traveller, who witnessed that of Ghat, 
 four or five years ago, states the number of merchants who arrived 
 from various parts to have been about 500 ; the camels 1050 ; the 
 slaves 1000. The value of the slaves, elephants' teeth, and senna, 
 which were the staple commodities from the south, was estimated at 
 about 60,000, which would be doubled on their arrival at Eu- 
 ropean markets. Besides these, there were ostrich-feathers, hides, 
 utensils of Soudan manufacture used in the Sahara, and the dark 
 blue calico which clothes half the inhabitants of the Desert. From 
 Europe there were bracelets, beads, looking-glasses, razors, sword- 
 blades, needles, papers, silks and cottons of gay colors ; but every- 
 thing of the poorest quality. During the sook the place was sup- 
 plied with provisions by frequent caravans from the oases of Fezzan. 
 Very little gold was to be seen. What does come this way is chiefly 
 in the form of female ornaments, rudely fashioned, but of the purest 
 material. These are tied up in filthy pieces of rag, and deposited, 
 during their journeyings, in the bosom or turban of the merchant. 
 But most of the gold which is found in the interior of Africa is 
 carried either to Morocco, or to the European factories on the west 
 coast. 
 
 Most of the traffic of the Desert is effected by barter, and very 
 little specie is used. That which is most circulated in the north is 
 the money of Tunis, which is current as far as the oases of Twat 
 and Fezzan. Further south there is some Spanish money trans- 
 mitted through Morocco, and a few Turkish coins, which naturally 
 find their way from Tripoli ; but the latter are generally disliked. > 
 The reason alleged is, that God taught Christians to make money, 
 because it is a thing accursed, though necessary in the present 
 world ; therefore Mussulmans ought not to engage in this work. 
 In the future state, they say the faithful will have all good things 
 to enjoy without money ; whereas Christians will have melted coin 
 poured down their throats as their torment forever. Among the 
 negro tribes a shell currency is used, known to us under the vul- 
 gar name of cowries. Every year the English pour into this coun- 
 try, by Guinea, nearly a hundred tons of cowries from Bengal, 
 where they bear about one tenth part of the value that they do in 
 Soudan. 
 
246 
 
 THE DESERTS OF AFRICA. 
 
 The means of travelling in this part of the world are utterly 
 different from those which nature and civilization have bestowed on 
 Europe. The largest rivers are unnavigable at a few miles from 
 their mouths ; the highway and the canal, to say nothing of the 
 railway, are things unknown, as are the .vehicles of which they im- 
 ply the use. The Arab roads in the north are mere tracks marked 
 on the sod by the naked foot of man, and the tread of horse or 
 mule. They are so narrow that two persons cannot walk on them 
 abreast ; consequently, if travellers or caravans meet, the one takes 
 to the right and the other to the left, so that two tracks are formed, 
 and the more any particular route is frequented, the more paths 
 may be found, sometimes running parallel, and sometimes crossing 
 each other. If an Arab is turned out of his track for a time, he 
 hastens back to it as soon as possible ; hence the intersections. On 
 the other hand, if a caravan is very large, it divides into two or 
 three files, preserving equal distances ; and hence the parallel paths. 
 As the custom of proceeding in single file has produced these nar- 
 row tracks, so have these in turn perpetuated the custom. In the 
 Tell, the natives may be seen travelling in single file on roads 
 forty-eight feet broad, constructed by their European conquerors, 
 the traces of the national locomotion being thus impressed on the 
 highways opened by civilization. 
 
 But when we come to the sands of the open Desert even these 
 pathways disappear ; the wind soon effaces the footprints of the 
 passenger, and we seek in vain for the long white track which 
 guides the traveller through many parts of Northern Africa. The 
 tuft of a pistachio, a lotus-plant, the white top of a sand-hill, ths 
 summit of a distant mountain, these are the waymarks which 
 guide him across the solitudes. In some of the most monotonous 
 plains the inhabitants have taken the precaution to raise pyramids 
 of stones, whose sharp projections contrast with the bmooth and 
 ^rounded features of the Saharian landscape. These waymarks are 
 called kerkors, and are especially employed to indicate the position 
 of wells. Another kind of monument also is frequently met with. 
 " Travelling one day," says M. Carette, " in company with several 
 Arabs, I was astonished to see them stop, one after another, while 
 each lifted a stone, and still more surprised when they offered one 
 to me. On asking the reason, I was informed that we were going 
 to pass the nza of Bel-gacem ! Though very little the wiser, I 
 took the stone, and in a few minutes afterwards we came to a pile 
 of pebbles about five feet high. Each of my companions cast his 
 stone upon it, exclaiming, ' To the nza of Bel-gacem ! ' Of 
 course I added mine when my turn came. This is the Arab mode 
 
THE DESERTS OF AFRICA. 247 
 
 of raising a monument on the spot where any tragic event has taken 
 place, and it sometimes attains the height of twelve or fifteen feet." 
 Dr. Jacquot obtained the following history of one which he had 
 occasion to pass in the Atlas Mountains : The Ouled-Balaghr occu- 
 pied the country to the west, while the Thouamas fed their flocks to 
 the east. The latter were a pacific tribe, who desired nothing of 
 their neighbors but to be let alone their women to weave, their 
 children to tend the flocks, and the men to doze all day, crouching 
 on the threshold of the tent, or stretching themselves on a grassy 
 mound. But, alas ! the ferocious sheik of the Ouled-Balaghr con- 
 tinually interrupted their enjoyments, and harassed them with war. 
 He delighted in finding the oily coucous ready-baked, and the red 
 piquant sauce smoking in the dwellings of his neighbors ; he pre- 
 ferred the yellow streams of honey which filled the trunks excavated 
 by the Thouamos, to those which he might himself obtain by patient 
 industry. Besides, he had other tastes which still more deeply 
 aggrieved the husbands and fathers of this inoffensive tribe. Mo- 
 hammed espoused their cause ; and, in clear weather, the guardian 
 fairies might be distinctly seen surrounding their protegees in sea- 
 sons of extreme danger. One day, when the terrible sheik crossed 
 the boundary, longing after coucous, honey, and female beauty, he 
 was met by a holy maraboot, bent with age, and leaning on a staff. 
 Raising his decrepit form for an instant, ' ' There is no Glod but 
 Allah," said he, " and Mohammed is his prophet. Hadst thou the 
 wings of our mountain eagles, or the fleet limbs of the antelope of 
 the plain, thou shouldst proceed no further. Return to thy douar, 
 rear bees for thyself, make thy women grind corn and barley, and 
 meditate thou in the Koran ; but let the Thouamas alone, if thou 
 wouldst not perish on this spot as the scorpion which thy beast is 
 treading under foot." But the courser of the sheik was no such 
 pusillanimous animal as Balaam's ass of ancient fame. Urged by 
 'his master's shabeers,* he dashed past the holy man, tossed his 
 mane, and broke into a gallop. He had not gone many paces when 
 he fell ; both the horse and the rider dashed their heads on a jut- 
 ting angle of rock. The little Attila became food for the crows 
 and jackals, but burial was given to the less guilty Horse. Every 
 Arab that passes adds a stone to the heap, and exclaims, "It is 
 decreed ! " 
 
 Level and sandy tracts are always chosen for travelling, when 
 this is possible, which is perhaps the reason that some travellers 
 have supposed the whole Desert to be a sandy plain. The most 
 
 * A kind of spur. 
 
248 THE DESERTS OF AFRICA. 
 
 dreaded part of the route from Twat to Timbuctoo is over the 
 tanezroufle, a plain of stiff red earth, which cannot be crossed in 
 less than ten or twelve days, and throughout which not a drop of 
 water is to be found. In the sand there is at least always a soft 
 dry bed, even after the heaviest rains, where the wanderer may 
 repose his wearied limbs. Here, too, he is more likely to find 
 springs of water than in the clayey or stony tracts. The wells in the 
 neighborhood of oases -are covered with skins, to preserve them from 
 the intrusion of the sand, and furnished with a bucket of plaited 
 halfa, and a cord to reach the water. If this simple apparatus gets 
 out of order, it must be the result of long use or unforeseen acci- 
 dent ; for it is guaranteed against wanton injury, by the respect 
 which all native travellers entertain for these little monuments of 
 public utility. Any misadventure that occurs to them is imme- 
 diately reported to the chief of the oases, who loses no time in 
 repairing it. 
 
 The European adventurer most commonly joins the gafala, or 
 merchant caravan, as it is not only the most expeditious, but the 
 most secure and economical, mode of performing a journey, the 
 expense of an escort being saved. In all the northern oases of 
 any importance, there are fourdouks or caravanserais corresponding 
 with the principal points of commercial intercourse ; and these 
 serve not only as resting-places and hotels, but as rendezvous and 
 starting-points for the caravans which frequent them. If the 
 escorting towns are pretty considerable, the departures are period- 
 ical ; but in all cases the day and hour of starting is intimated 
 beforehand by the chief driver, and, in order to ascertain it, one 
 has only to apply at the proper fourdouk, where all particulars may 
 be obtained. 
 
 The muleteers and camel-drivers form the nucleus of the cara- 
 van, and regulate its movements. The length of a day's journey is 
 variable, depending on the strength of the company, in connection 
 with the nature of the route and the degree of security anticipated. 
 The usual distance is from twenty to twenty-five miles, but it may 
 extend to forty in regions destitute of water or infested by robbers. 
 Travellers who join a caravan are not obliged to submit to any dis- 
 cipline. There is no community except that of dangers to bo 
 escaped, and an end to be attained. If they sustain %,n attack, 
 each one consults his own courage, and does independently what in 
 him lies to repel or escape the enemy. It rarely happens that any 
 regular disposition of force is made either for the attack or the 
 defence ; and occurrences of this nature always produce considera- 
 ble disorder. The gafalas are almost entirely composed of men <* 
 
THE DESERTS OF AFRICA. 249 
 
 whose principal occupation is commerce, but women are not ex- 
 cluded ; and it is no uncommon thing to see widows, having no 
 other means of support, carrying on the traffic of their deceased 
 husbands. 
 
 Another species of caravan is the neja, or migration of a tribe ; 
 and this presents a much more lively scene than a gafala. The 
 latter is a concourse of men who have little acquaintance with each 
 other ; its march is grave, and often silent and monotonous. The 
 neja, on the contrary, is the tribe with its women, its dogs, its tents, 
 and all the apparatus of nomade life. It is not composed of iso- 
 lated individuals, but of families ; or rather it is one great family 
 on the tramp. There is, therefore, nothing more lively and pleas- 
 ant than to join a neja. " The barking of the dogs, the bleating 
 of the sheep, the shouting of the men in charge of them, the crow- 
 ing of the fowls, and the squalling of the children ; all this variety 
 of noises," says M. Carette, "forms a rural harmony which is 
 quite charming in the otherwise lonely and silent wastes, and the 
 traveller finds a novel source of amusement in witnessing the pri- 
 vate labors of domestic economy, simple enough, but wearing a 
 strange character, when it is remembered that they are all conducted 
 on the back of the camel." 
 
 Suddenly this noisy march becomes silent and pensive the 
 cavaliers of the advanced guard perceive in the horizon the ap- 
 proach of another tribe. They give notice of it to the sheik, and 
 immediately the ranks close in. The gafala carries no standard, 
 for it fears no enemy save the freebooter ; but each neja is in alli- 
 ance with one or other of the great parties that divide the Desert, 
 and regard as enemies all the tribes that favor the opposite cause. 
 As the two companies near each other, conjectures are forming as 
 to whether this is to be a greeting of friends or a collision of 
 foes. When they come within reach of the voice, the demand is 
 made, "Who are you?" If they prove to be allies, they 
 continue their journey apart, on exchanging a salam ; but if the 
 name uttered is that of a hostile tribe, they reply by blows, and a 
 conflict ensues. The battle never continues beyond sunset, which 
 is the signal for the suspension of hostilities. If one of the par* 
 ties is confessedly worsted, it avails itself of the night to disappear ; 
 but if the issue is doubtful, the belligerents encamp on the field of 
 battle, and renew the conflict in the morning. The Arabs manifest 
 much more animosity in these collisions than in any skirmishes they 
 have with their European invaders, as none are more exasperated 
 than brothers, if they happen to be enemies. In war against the infi- 
 dels, they make prisoners ; but no such thing is known in the mu- 
 
250 THE DESERTS OF AFRICA. 
 
 tual warfare of tribes. In the latter case, if an Arab becomes mas- 
 ter of a living foe, he slays him without mercy, and hastens to lay 
 the gory head at the feet of his wives, who welcome it with insults 
 and imprecations. 
 
 The only exception to these barbarous usages is in favor of three 
 classes of people : maraboots are spared out of respect for their 
 sacred character ; Jews and blacksmiths from mere contempt. We 
 have not been able to learn the origin of this feeling towards the 
 trade of a blacksmith ; but certain it is, that if a man be sur- 
 rounded by enemies, and despairing of escape, he has only to 
 wrap his head in the hood of his burnoose, and work with his arms, 
 as if beating iron. They will not stain their hands with the blood 
 of so abject a wretch. 
 
 It rarely happens that a traveller, joining a neja, has occasion to 
 carry his own tent and provisions. If he has any acquaintance in 
 the tribe, he receives hospitality as a guest, and shares the tent and 
 koukous * of his host. This position secures to him all the respect 
 and protection to which the family entertaining him are entitled. 
 Among the strangers who join either a gafala or neja, there are gen- 
 erally found some destitute creatures who, on the day of departure, 
 know not how the bread of to-morrow is to be obtained ; but they 
 are under no disquietude they trust in Providence, and not in 
 vain. Scarcely has the cavalcade started, but they find opportu- 
 nities of making themselves useful, either in loading or guiding 
 the camels, for which little services they receive their daily food ; 
 and it is all they desire. Thus they accomplish a long journey 
 without either expense on the one hand or privation on the other. 
 It is in this way that numbers of poor husbandmen and laborers, 
 not finding their toil sufficiently remunerated in the oases, make 
 their way to the coast, where they form the most intelligent, the 
 most industrious, and the best conducted portion of the community. 
 
 One cannot compare the habits and the wants of one of these 
 camel-drivers of the Desert with those of a European wagoner, 
 without being struck with the contrast. The latter requires, as 
 every night closes in, a roof to shelter him, should it be only that 
 of a hovel, and a bed, though but of straw ; he needs nourishing 
 food to support his strength, and this necessity is rendered more 
 imperious by the use of alcoholic liquors. But the Arab camel- 
 driver asks no bed but the sand no roof but the sky ; a fountain 
 of pure water is his most luxurious tavern ; his sustenance is moist- 
 
 * Cakes made of meal mixed with various ingredients, according to th 
 circumstances of the eater. 
 
THE DESERTS OF AFRICA. 251 
 
 ened meal ; and for these he offers thanks to Heaven. Five times 
 a day he prostrates himself on the ground, laying his forehead on 
 the sharp stones of the Desert, if such be the paving of his route, 
 and pours out his prayers to his heavenly G-uide, Protector, and 
 Provider. What an example for the well-fed bishops of Christen- 
 dom ! 
 
 Neither merchant-caravans, nor those of migrating tribes, travel 
 at all times or in all directions, so that isolated journeying is fre- 
 quently necessary. It is generally unsafe for a stranger to attempt 
 this without the protection of either a professional or amateur guide, 
 belonging to a tribe whose territory is to be crossed. He is 
 acquainted with the safe hiding-places and the good springs. He 
 knows when it is necessary to remain concealed, and when he may 
 proceed by daylight ; and he has friends along the route from whom 
 he obtains for his companion the same hospitality that is extended 
 to himself. 
 
 The provision for a journey consists of rouina, dates, and butter, 
 if one is desirous of luxury; otherwise, the only article of food is 
 rouina. This is simply grain (generally barley) roasted, ground, 
 and pressed into a mezoued, which is a sheep's skin tanned and 
 dyed red. Another skin called a shenna is required for water ; it 
 preserves its hair outside, and receives a coat of tar within. Water 
 may be carried in it for ten days without becoming the least spoiled. 
 With the mezoued slung like a wallet on one shoulder, and the 
 shenna on the other, the Arab often travels immense plains alone 
 and on foot, without meeting human habitation for days together, 
 and this at the rate sometimes of forty miles a day ; for he walks 
 from the rising till the setting of the sun. When he wishes for a 
 repast, the table is soon spread. He sits down beside a spring of 
 water, if the place affords one, and lays on the ground a flap of his 
 burnoose, which serves both as dish and table-cloth. He throws 
 into it a handful of rouina, which he moistens with water, makes 
 into a paste, and eats without further culinary process. He then 
 puts his hands together to form a cup, drinks, and pursues his way. 
 A mezoued full of rouina will support him twenty-four days. 
 
 It must be confessed that our knowledge of the deserts, as well 
 as of the interior of Africa, is still very imperfect; and, while we 
 render due homage to the courage of those martyrs to science who 
 have from time to time ventured into the trackless wastes, and have 
 in few instances lived to return, it must be admitted that the field 
 is too wide and too ungenial to be explored by any such individual 
 and partial researches as have yet taken place. It is to be appre- 
 hended that in some, perhaps in many, cases, general inferences 
 
252 THE DESERTS OF AFRICA. 
 
 have been drawn hastily and incorrectly from particular facts ; and 
 the sufferings which Europeans have undergone in their venturous 
 excursions, may have led them to view things through a distorted 
 medium, and to represent them in such a manner as rather to mag- 
 nify than diminish the distance which divides us from them. It is 
 not enough to be courageous. We should endeavor to turn our 
 courage to good account by directing it in wisdom ; and, before 
 throwing ourselves into a region where so many lives have been 
 sacrificed, it would be well to know so much about it as to make 
 our progress safe, and our observations intelligent and useful. It 
 has been suggested by some who have become personally and inti- 
 mately acquainted with the Northern Sahara, or Land of Dates, 
 that among the natives themselves might be found useful explorers 
 to prepare the way for European adventure. In Tunis, Tripoli, 
 and Alexandria, the points in which terminate three of the great 
 commercial arteries of Interior Africa, there are always to be found 
 Arabs who have traversed in every direction the whole country 
 between Egypt and Guinea. We might send such as these into 
 the heart of Africa, to collect all the particulars which it is desira- 
 ble to obtain. They are naturally enterprising travellers and acute 
 observers of natural phenomena ; and their native instincts, prop- 
 erly directed, might yield us an immense fund of information at a 
 very trifling cost. They might be commissioned to bring specimens 
 of all the natural productions, first of the Northern Sahara, then 
 of the Central, and, lastly, of Interior Africa ; of the plants, the 
 grain, the shells, the stones, the fruit of different kinds, and stuffs 
 of various fabrics. They might be instructed to count the houses 
 of a town, the tents of a tribe, the camels of a caravan ; and thus 
 should we have accurate data on the strength of the population and 
 the progress of commerce. They might be directed to count the 
 paces from one oasis to another, to follow the course of a stream, to 
 measure a basin; and thus we should have geographical details. 
 
 "I was curious," says M. Carette, "to ascertain by experiment 
 how far these rovers of the Desert might be transformed into deputy 
 travellers, and the result even surpassed my expectations. I gave 
 a scientific commission, for a distant part of the Date Country, to 
 an intelligent but illiterate Arab belonging to one of those Saharian 
 tribes which make the most extensive circuit in their annual migra- 
 tions. His instructions were confined to objects of natural history, 
 geography, commerce, and statistics. But the child of the Desert 
 spontaneously became an archaeologist. Having met with a Horaan 
 inscription, he copied it as faithfully as he could, supposing, 
 
THE DESERTS OP AFRICA. 253 
 
 ing to the traditions of his country, that it contained some impor- 
 tant revelation which I should be able to expound." 
 
 If it be asked whether the veracity of such agents could be 
 depended upon, it is answered that they would at least be as 
 worthy of credence as the generality of European travellers ; that 
 is, quite as little prone to perversion or exaggeration, and somewhat 
 less liable to mistake or deception ; but we could easily verify their 
 testimony by despatching two successively on a similar mission. 
 If Europeans who understood the language of the Arabs, and knew 
 how to humor their peculiarities, would take up their position about 
 the skirts of the desert, and employ themselves in directing native 
 explorers, and then collecting and comparing their reports, instead 
 of plunging themselves into the pathless wastes, where their 
 religion is abhorred, their motives suspected, and their lives consid- 
 ered fair game, we might soon have such a programme as would 
 open a well defined field for European enterprise, whether commer- 
 cial, scientific, or religious. 
 
LIFE II 41 C 
 
 MY first sea-voyage was made in the Weatherly, Captain Courtly ; 
 she was a remarkably fine old teak ship, of about 1500 tons bur- 
 then, built in Bombay fdr the East India Company, and so con- 
 structed as to be equally well adapted for trading or for war. 
 
 I joined the vessel as a midshipman (so called), on the 30th of 
 November, 184-, while she was lying in the river off Gruvesend, in 
 the berth usually allotted to outward-bound Indiamen, just abreast 
 of Tilbury Fort. I recollect that it was one of those dull, drizzling 
 days so prevalent during an English November, and so peculiarly 
 disagreeable in the neighborhood of London. I found everything 
 on board in what I, in my ignorance, looked upon as irremediable 
 confusion : the salt provisions and the cuddy-stores were being 
 hoisted on board from a lighter alongside, and the deck was encum- 
 bered with casks and cases, which were deposited there previously 
 
 (254) 
 
LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 255 
 
 to being lowered into the hold, and finally stowed away. A day or 
 two prior to the date of my joining, a quantity of bar-iron, shot, 
 and shell, had been received on board, the rust from which pervaded 
 everything in a most extraordinary manner : this, combined with 
 the mud brought from shore by boatmen and visitors, and the cease- 
 less drizzling rain, rendered the decks filthy beyond description. 
 Everybody was bustling to and fro, apparently with some definite 
 object in view, whilst I, lost and bewildered, although most anxious 
 to be useful in some way, and to learn what was the nature of the 
 duties which I should be called upon to perform in my new station, 
 was pushed here, there, and everywhere, as if I was merely an 
 incumbrance ; for, . being myself unemployed, I contrived to place 
 myself so as to incommode everybody else. At length, one of the 
 officers noticing, I presume, my lackadaisical appearance, sent me, 
 more by way of joke than from any absolute necessity, with a 
 message to an officer who was employed in another part of the ship, 
 and it was then that my difficulties may be said to have commenced ; 
 for although, while standing upon the upper deck, I could distin- 
 guish the .stem from the stern of the ship, I candidly confess that I 
 was sorely puzzled when ordered to deliver a message in the After 
 Orlop. However, burning with a desire to show myself smart, I 
 dived down to the gun deck, and roamed from the stern cabins to 
 the manger without discovering any locality bearing that name : all 
 my inquiries as to its whereabouts were answered by a broad grin, 
 a horse-laugh, or a careless oath ; and when I meekly asked where 
 the officer of whom I was in search was most likely to be found, I 
 was informed, in a perfectly serious tone, that in all probability he 
 was skulking in the cook's coppers, covered over with a ladle, or in 
 the larboard binnacle, hidden by a spoon, or, perhaps, which was 
 most likely, stowed away in the till of the captain's shaving-box. 
 At length, by dint of untiring perseverance, I found the person 
 sought, and had the satisfaction of being well laughed at, the 
 message having been delivered by another mid' just an hour before. 
 My total ignorance of the manners and customs on board ship 
 (for I was fresh from an inland country town), and of the usual 
 daily routine, exposed me to an infinite number of practical jokes ; 
 among others, I was sometimes despatched in a great hurry to the 
 carpenter, to ask him for the loan of his circular square, or some 
 other unheard-of and impossible instrument ; the old carpenter, who 
 was up to the joke, always looked as grave as a judge, and sent back 
 his compliments, and he was sorry that the tool had been unfortu- 
 nately mislaid. When I was sent on similar " goose's " errands to 
 the boatswain, I generally received a thorough quizzing, and the 
 
256 LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 
 
 advice to be a little more wide-awake in future. It was some con- 
 solation to me to observe that I was not the only one who was thus 
 made sport of, for all the first voyagers, or greenhorns, were more 
 or less imposed upon in proportion to their good-nature and credulity : 
 and in the end I am sure it proved to our advantage, as it made 
 us keep a " weather-eye " open in self-defence, and might therefore 
 be looked upon as the rudiments of our nautical education. 
 
 Akone o'clock all hands went to dinner, and I groped my way 
 to the mess-room, which had been previously pointed out to me. 
 Here I found the fifth mate and two midshipmen (old stagers) 
 eagerly swallowing a mixture of greasy water and cabbage leaves, 
 called vegetable soup, of which they invited me to partake, and 
 helped me very liberally ; but, seeing that I did not make much 
 progress with it, they recommended me to try some of their Jelicious 
 "sea-cake," at the same time handing me a seaman's biscuit of the 
 roughest description, very different from those really excellent 
 octagons which are supplied to the royal navy. After soup, came 
 a large dish of beef-steaks and onions a most savory mess, and 
 highly inviting in appearance ; but, alas ! it was all outward show, 
 for the beef defied mastication, and from that day to this I have 
 nourished a strong aversion to beef-steaks. I found them to be the 
 standing dish in harbor, for even in Bombay buffalo steaks, consist- 
 ing of skin and gristle, appeared regularly every morning on our 
 breakfast-table. Small-beer, called by my messmates " swipes," 
 was to be had merely for the fetching, there being a large cask of it 
 on deck for the indiscriminate use of all hands ; and I can confi- 
 dently assert that the midshipmen's mess had the lion's share, 
 consuming, probably, as much as all the rest of the ship's company 
 put together ; fortunately, as the wine merchants say of their claret, 
 there was not " a headache in a hogshead of it," so that there was 
 no fear of inebriation. The meat having been removed, long clay 
 pipes were filled and lighted, and a few whifis taken by way of a 
 digestive ; soon after which the boatswain's call summoned all to 
 their respective stations. 
 
 After night-fall I was sent down into the hold, where a gang of 
 men were employed, under the third mate, in stowing away cases, 
 &c. ; my duty was to hold a candle, and show a light when required. 
 This employment always devolves upon the midshipmen, so that 
 those in the East India Company's service were known by the nick- 
 name of " Company's Candlesticks." By our constant attendance 
 in the hold whilst the cargo was being stowed, we had an opportunity 
 afforded us of gaining much practical information as to the best and 
 safest mode of arranging cargo of various descriptions a science 
 
LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 257 
 
 of no mean importance. "When the stowing was completed, the 
 men scrambled hand-over-head up a greasy rope to the deck above, 
 a distance of about twenty feet, -r- and I was expected to do the 
 same ; but gymnastics never having formed part of my education, I 
 made many violent and unsuccessful struggles, amid the laughter of 
 the lookers-on, before I could gain the orlop deck. After a little 
 practice, however, I overcame this difficulty ; and I think I should 
 now stand a very fair chance of winning the leg of mutton sur- 
 mounting a greased pole at a country merry-making. 
 
 Whilst I had been buried in the regions below, the live-stock had 
 arrived, consisting of some hundreds of fowls, ducks, geese, and 
 turkeys, besides a large number of sheep, pigs, a cow and a calf. I 
 never heard such a Babel of sounds as was produced by these unfor- 
 tunate creatures : by their cries, one would have thought that they 
 had a presentiment of thorough weather they were doomed to encoun- 
 ter, and their ultimate ignominious death. The pigs were especially 
 uneasy no doubt, with that sagacity for which they are famed, 
 they saw the wind coming. The geese had an annoying habit of 
 raising a simultaneous cackle .every half hour : I have since noticed 
 that these birds are capital judges of time, for, as regularly as the 
 half-hour expires, they raise their voices in a loud chorus, even 
 before the striking of the bell. This, methinks, is a curious fact 
 for the naturalists ; I am ready to vouch for its correctness ; 
 indeed, it is not difficult to believe, when we consider that the 
 watchfulness of the geese saved the Roman capital. The odor aris- 
 ing from such a congregation of animals was worse than I had ever 
 met with in the worst-appointed farm-yards ; but on the gun-deck, 
 where the midshipmen's hammocks were slung, the noise and smell, 
 though of a different character, were infinitely more disgusting. 
 The air was loaded with the perfume of bilge-water, fresh paint, gin, 
 and beer, mingled with the fumes of tobacco, which issued from the 
 forecastle, where our tars lived. As the ship was to sail shortly, 
 they were allowed the privilege of having their wives, sweethearts, 
 and female relatives, on board : both men and women were, with 
 few exceptions, half intoxicated ; and laughing, singing, swearing, 
 and even fighting, accompanied with language of the most revolting 
 character, were kept up throughout the greater part of the night; 
 and all this within a yard of the midshipmen's hammocks. Under 
 these auspices I commenced slinging my hammock, and having suc- 
 ceeded in so doing, I vaulted in very dexterously, considering that 
 it was my first attempt of the kind ; but no sooner did I jump in 
 on one side than I fell out at the other, and came with a violent 
 concussion on the muddy deck, whilst the bed and bedding were: 
 17 
 
258 LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 
 
 strewed over and around me. After many attempts, with the like 
 ill success, I at length found out the way of getting in properly ; 
 but with so much smoke and noise, and sometimes jostled by drunken 
 females, sleep was altogether out of the question. However, I 
 thought I should at least be allowed to rest my limbs for a few 
 hours ; but I had not been in my hammock half an hour, before I 
 was informed by a brother mid' that it was my watch on deck, and 
 that he would advise me to relieve him quickly, as it was raining 
 hard ; so I turned out, excited and feverish, went on deck, and took 
 my share of drenching. The oldsters were in the habit of shifting 
 nearly all their night-watches upon the first voyagers, sometimes by 
 bullying, and sometimes by trickery of course without the knowl- 
 edge of the officers ; so that the juniors frequently spent half the 
 night shivering on deck, not daring to leave their post until relieved. 
 Such is a sketch of my first day and night on board, and such, I 
 believe, is the usual state of an outward-bound Indiaman off 
 Gravesend. 
 
 The mess-room was of very moderate dimensions ; so much so, 
 that when all our chests were stowed therein, with the mess-table in 
 the middle, it was only by close packing that we could all find sitting 
 room. Of the disgusting nature of the conversation which was 
 daily carried on in this little Pandemonium, I will not say more 
 than that it was far less refilled than any that I ever heard among the 
 seamen in the forecastle ; for in our choice assembly, if one of the 
 young gentlemen, rather more sensible or better educated than the 
 rest, happened to make use of a word which was not often employed, 
 or tried to give the conversation a decorous or instructive turn, he 
 was cried down as a " walking dictionary," or somebody would ex- 
 claim, " Ah, there's Johnson again ! " If a word was not under- 
 stood, the speaker was interrupted with the question of " What 
 ship's that ? " So that all rational intercourse was immediately put 
 an end to. He who volunteered an indecent or blasphemous story 
 always found plenty to listen and applaud. In other respects our 
 mess-berth was anything but a paradise. There was, for instance, 
 no privacy ; we all washed and dressed in the same berth, placing 
 our basins upon our chests, or, if there were not room for us all, 
 some would go out on the gun-deck, and there perform the operations 
 of the toilet the admired of all beholders. The looking-glasses, 
 razors, arid other little knick-knacks with which the first voyagers 
 were invariably furnished by their accommodating outfitters, were 
 always laid claim to as a matter of right by the oldsters, who never 
 brought anything of the kind to sea themselves, shrewdly surmising 
 that in every midshipmen's mess it was probable there would be one 
 
LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 259 
 
 or more greenhorns to prey upon. The motto with these unscrupu- 
 lous gentry was this : " What 's yours is mine, and what 's mine is 
 my own," a principle they always kept in mind and acted up to, 
 in spite of all remonstrances. Among other things which my out- 
 fitter had put in my chest, were a japanned candlestick and its 
 appurtenances, three pounds of wax candles, and two or three cod- 
 lines and hooks. Finding the candlestick take up too much room 
 in my chest, I placed it on a shelf in the mess-room. It was soon 
 discovered, seized, tossed from hand to hand amid many jokes, and 
 at length, battered and bruised, was quietly passed overboard as a 
 useless piece of furniture. I must confess that I could never assign 
 any other reason for its being included among my necessaries of 
 outfit than that it might appear in the bill. The wax candles were 
 begged, borrowed, or stolen so fast, that they all vanished in about 
 a week ; and the cod-lines, being of a handy size for making lan- 
 yards for knives and clothes-bags, were wheedled from me by some, 
 and bullied out of me by others. My looking-glass was smashed 
 before the expiration of a month, and my pewter basin squeezed 
 into the shape of a cocked-hat. The general habits of the " young 
 gentlemen," to say the least of them, were disgusting. Smoking 
 was permitted at meal-times, with its usual accompaniments. It 
 was usual after tea (or supper, in nautical language) to pelt each 
 other with the remaining grounds, the principal share of which 
 always fell to the weakest. 
 
 When the oldsters were inclined for a little recreation, they fast- 
 ened a rope's-end to the great toe of one of the unfortunate first 
 voyagers, and by means of a bolt in the deck, triced his heels up, 
 so that his head should trail on the deck. This was done with the 
 intention of bringing him under proper discipline, as they termed it. 
 By the by, this mode of coercion was never practised upon me, 
 although I often saw it put in force upon poor Hodges, an incorri- 
 gible youngster, who, certainly betimes, allowed his tongue too great 
 a license. The culprit was always kept in this unpleasant position 
 until he asked pardon for the offence which had been alleged against 
 him. The caterer of the mess was a very dexterous hand at throw- 
 ing the carving-fork, by which means he preserved order and deco- 
 rum when necessary. The punctures from this instrument were 
 more sharp than agreeable, and few who had once been wounded were 
 desirous of a second infliction, as I can testify from personal expe- 
 rience. It will be seen, from what I have here written, that our mode 
 of proceeding was much the same as is to be met with in large 
 schools, or in any place where boys are congregated. It is the 
 nature of man, I fear, for the strong to take a delight in tyrannizing 
 
260 LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 
 
 over the weak ; yet these little roughs and rubs undoubtedly wrought 
 considerable improvement in my character, and instead of hardening 
 me, rendered me better able to appreciate and sympathize with the 
 sufferings of others. 
 
 Our voyage commenced with squally weather, and my sufferings 
 were for the first fortnight intense. During this time there were 
 incessant rain, squalls, and that terrible rolling motion which is 
 caused by a confused sea. For three days and nights I stowed my- 
 self ought of sight, in a dark corner near the pumps on the gun- 
 deck, where I remained unnoticed, in a pool of rusty water, more 
 dead than alive, receiving no nourishment, and wishing for death to 
 come and release me. Being discovered, I was peremptorily ordered 
 on deck, and told that nothing but active motion was required to 
 cure me, although my messmates affirmed that nothing in the world 
 would hasten my recovery so much as a lump of fat pork. From 
 that time I always went on deck when the hands were turned out, 
 was drenched with rain, pushed rudely about, and was ever and 
 anon entangled in coils of wet ropes, or breaking my shins over some 
 other impediment, and being thrown by the roll of the agitated ship 
 into the lee scuppers. On one of these occasions, in the vain hope 
 of saving myself, I tried to catch hold of one of the sailors, who was 
 standing near me ; but unfortunately I only succeeded in obtaining 
 a firm grip of the brim of his straw hat, which giving way, I pur- 
 sued my impetuous career with the fragment fluttering in my hand, 
 until I was fairly laid sprawling upon my back to leeward. And 
 yet, amid all this discomfort I may say actual misery I could 
 not help smiling at the disconsolate appearance presented by the 
 few passengers who, weary of the confinement of their cabins, now 
 ventured to show themselves upon deck, and brave the fury of the 
 elements. I have seen a group of five or six sliding from side to 
 side in a sitting posture, utterly unable to help themselves, amid 
 roars of laughter from those who had had the good fortune, or rather 
 the good sense, to lay hold of a rope or belay ing-pin. 
 
 When I had found my " sea legs " and sea appetite, and knew the 
 names of the ropes and spars, I really began to feel an interest in 
 what was passing around me : until that time all appeared to me 
 like a very wild and oppressive nightmare. I was also changed in 
 other respects ; for before and during my sea-sickness the smell of 
 rum was so distasteful to me as almost to produce nausea, and I was 
 glad to give my daily dram to any of my messmates who asked for 
 it ; the smell of tobacco was also very offensive, and I often left the 
 mess berth in order to escape from the dense fumes which frequently 
 commenced before I had finished my dinner : but when I began to 
 
LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 261 
 
 recover strength, and experience the reaction of health, I summoned 
 courage to sip my grog, and found the stimulus thereby afforded 
 grateful, if not beneficial ; and before we had rounded the Cape, I 
 could tip off a " raw nip " (neat spirit) with somewhat of the un- 
 flinching nonchalance of a forecastle man. By that time I had also 
 become a smoker, having at first merely taken up a pipe in self-de- 
 fence ; nor can I deny that I had very cautiously commenced the 
 practice of chewing having been told that it was an indispensable 
 accomplishment for a sailor beginning with minute quids, and 
 gradually increasing, until, at length, my check exhibited a goodly 
 protuberance ; so easy is it for youngsters to acquire bad habits, 
 especially when encouraged by example, and liable to be constantly 
 jeered at for their abstinence. 
 
 We passed the islands of Palma and Ferro at a great distance ; 
 after losing sight of them, we were blessed with a moderate trade- 
 wind and fine clear weather, and made some very good days' runs. 
 The ship improved much in appearance ; the decks were beautifully 
 clean ; the crew were in good order and discipline ; the passengers, 
 of whom we had forty the greater proportion of them young ladies 
 going out on a well-known speculation commenced promenading 
 the quarter-deck ; the weather grew perceptibly warmer, blue cloth 
 jackets and trousers were discarded, and linen and duck worn in 
 their stead. On Christmas-eve we were 16 degrees north of the 
 equator. 
 
 Christmas-Day. Divine service was performed in the cuddy 
 by Captain Courtly, attended by many of the passengers, a portion 
 of the crew, and all the young gentlemen. At one o'clock the mids 
 dined in their own mess-room, and the dinner was really a capital 
 one : the captain had made us a present of several bottles of beer 
 and wine, and a shoulder of mutton ; this, in conjunction with pot- 
 ted meats and bouilli from our own stores, and a plum-pudding, or 
 " duff," as sailors call it, made a very substantial banquet. Every- 
 thing was conducted with wonderful propriety and decorum, con- 
 sidering the wild character of the guests, and we finished by drink- 
 ing to the health of all " absent friends/' 
 
 On the evening of the 26th we had a variety of games, also fid- 
 dling and dancing reels, in which all the officers and midshipmen 
 joined. This was the first day on which I had seen any flying fish, 
 and now I saw them in hundreds ; they appeared to be about the 
 size of pilchards. When a whole flight of them drop into the water 
 after their brief aerial tour, they produce a sound as if a shower of 
 pebbles had been cast inro the sea from a considerable height. 
 
 Dec. 29^. Becalmed. Many stormy petrels seen. These 
 
262 LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 
 
 graceful birds resemble swallows both in shape and manner of flying, 
 but are somewhat smaller ; they are better known by the name of 
 Mother Carey's chickens. A shark was seen prowling under our 
 stern, as is generally the case when a ship is becalmed in these 
 latitudes. 
 
 B\st. Light breezes. Lai, at noon, 40 north. A few minutes 
 after sunset we were all startled by hearing a tremendous voice 
 hailing the ship from some unknown quarter, in the following man- 
 ner : " Ship ahoy ! what ship 's that ? " Captain Courtly, who 
 was willing to amuse his passengers, and seemed to enter with zest 
 into the fun, answered through his speaking-trumpet, in his usual 
 clear tones, " The Weatherly -." " Where are you from ? " was the 
 next question of the invisible voice. " From the port of London." 
 " Where are you bound ? " " To Bombay," was the reply. " Have 
 you any of my children on board ? " " Yes." " Then I shall come and 
 claim them to-morrow," said the stranger ; and having thus notified 
 his intentions, he was a moment afterwards seen floating astern in 
 a blazing tar-barrel. This was old Neptune himself, who seldom 
 allows a vessel to approach his grand boundary line without a 
 visit of this nature. 
 
 January \st was an important era in my life, for on that day I 
 first crossed the line, and was initiated into the mysteries of Nep- 
 tune's court. A holiday having been previously granted to all 
 hands, a grand procession was formed early in the forenoon, headed 
 by the sailmaker, a humorous old man, who often made us laugh 
 with his droll stories a sad, drunken reprobate withal ; he per- 
 sonated Neptune, in a fine spreading wig of tow, and, seated on a 
 gun-carriage by way of throne, flourished a three-pronged grainse, 
 which was supposed to be his trident. By his side was a bulky, 
 swarthy-faced man, wearing a woman's cap and shawl, whom Nep- 
 tune introduced with much gallantry as his wife ; and, to complete 
 the classical group, one of the ship's boys, decked out in cast-off 
 female finery, was placed behind them as their hopeful daughter. 
 The old sailmaker, whose pleasantries were never offensive, passed 
 a number of jokes upon the assembled passengers, paid handsome 
 compliments to the pretty faces of the smiling ladies, and then for- 
 mally requested the captain's permission to perform the customary 
 rites ; a request which was courteously granted as far as shaving 
 the midshipmen was concerned, but any interference with the pas- 
 sengers was strictly and positively interdicted. The ship's company 
 goon after went to dinner : we had scarcely finished that meal, when 
 a strong body of sailors, calling themselves Constables, came down 
 to our berth, singled out us novices, blindfolded, and led us upon 
 
LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 263 
 
 deck, where a large tub, full of water, was prepared for our recep- 
 tion. On the edge of this we were seated, one by one, in turn, and 
 questions were propounded to us by Neptune's head physician 
 respecting the state of our health, our age, and length of service. 
 Upon our opening our mouths to answer his interrogatories he im- 
 mediately thrust in a large bolus, composed of materials of a most 
 nauseous description, collected from the cow-house, hen-coops, pig- 
 sties, &c. This having been done amid awful sputterings from the 
 victim, the barber was ordered to step forward and commence his 
 important operations, which he did, nothing loth ; and, by way of 
 preliminary, smeared over our smooth cheeks a lather of coal-tar, 
 blended with other still more objectionable articles, and then 
 roughly scraped it off again with a rusty fragment of iron hoop. 
 The shaving being completed, we were tipped backwards into the 
 tub of water, and allowed to struggle out as we best could under a 
 shower of water which descended from all quarters, even from the 
 fore and main tops. The bandage was then removed, and we were 
 at liberty to join in the fun of drenching others as much as we 
 pleased. The baker and two apprentices were the only persons 
 besides the mids who were consigned to the tender mercies of Nep- 
 tune's myrmidons. The boatswain's call was soon after heard, sum- 
 moning all hands to "splice the main brace" a summons which 
 was readily and cheerfully attended to, sailors being generally ready 
 for a glass of grog. The festivities having thus closed, my atten- 
 tion was forcibly directed to my head, which was beginning to 
 smart from the effects of the new-invented pomatum with which 
 my hair had been so liberally bedaubed. My first act was to 
 ask the advice of an old quarter-master, whom I had engaged as my 
 hammock-man and shoe-blacker, as to the readiest means of clearing 
 my locks of the abominable nuisance. He smiled, and answered 
 that he was acquainted with an excellent remedy, adding that mine 
 was not the first case of anointing he had seen, as he had crossed 
 the line scores of times in the course of his life. He went, therefore, 
 to the cook's galley with a handful of oakum, which he plunged 
 into the slush-cask (slush is the skimmings of the coppers in which 
 the fat salt pork is boiled for the ship's company), and, returning to 
 me, commenced rubbing the rancid, greasy mixture among my hair, 
 and upon every part of my neck and shoulders where he perceived 
 any blotches of coal-tar ; the effect of this was to decompose the 
 latter, so that it could be removed by the application of soap-and- 
 water and a rough towel ; and yet, in spite of all my exertions, my 
 hair remained in a very unpleasant condition for a long time after. 
 Before leaving this subject, I may as well mention, as a warning 
 
264 LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 
 
 to others, that myself and two other youngsters were prevailed 
 upon, under false promises of being " let off easy 1 ' (that is to say, 
 spared the infliction of the bolus and the coal-tar), to pay the sum 
 of one guinea each to Neptune ; and after this, by a base breach of 
 faith, we were forced to undergo the ceremony in its most disgusting 
 form. But 1 laughed, at the time, at the idea of having been so easily 
 imposed upon, and I have laughed often since when I have thought 
 of it. The fact was, that from the moment we first joined the ship 
 at Gravesend, we heard nothing else talked of but crossing the line ; 
 and even the men were always joking us about the terrible ordeal 
 we should then have to pass through : with these exaggerated 
 accounts always dinning in our ears, can it be wondered at that we 
 gladly jumped at the chance of escape, or at all events of ameliorar 
 tion, offered by the payment of a few shillings ? We must all pay 
 for our experience, and many, perhaps, have paid dearer than 
 we did. 
 
 When to the southward of the line, we met with light, variable 
 breezes for many days, during whicn time we did not average more 
 than three miles an hour, and were constantly exposed to pitiless 
 torrents of rain. I was placed in the same watch with the senior 
 midshipman, a rough, bullying fellow, who had particular orders to 
 do all in his power to make me acquainted with the different parts 
 of the ship, names and uses of ropes, &c. When in a good humor, 
 he would show me the different ropes, and explain everything per- 
 taining to them in an agreeable manner ; but, in return for this 
 condescension, he always insisted upon some concession on my part, 
 such as my day's grog, the loan of some article of outfit, or that I 
 should keep his watch while he skulked below, and be ready to call 
 him instantly if he was missed and inquired for by the officer' of the 
 watch. When he was in a sulky mood he would send me aloft, 
 generally choosing a time when the wind was high and the sea 
 rough, and tell me to go out on each yard-arm, and point out to 
 him the topsail and top-gallant sheets, and follow them up to their 
 junction with the sails which they assisted to spread ; and if, when 
 I came down, I did not answer him satisfactorily, he ordered me up 
 again with such a hurricane of maledictions, that I was glad to 
 spring into the rigging. By a repetition of these practical lessons. 
 I rapidly gained the necessary knowledge, and became less dependent 
 upon others ; indeed, by the time the ship had reached the line, I 
 had recovered my spirits, and enjoyed excellent health, with the 
 exception of a tendency to skin eruptions, produced by the change 
 of living. 
 
 I do not recollect when I first went aloft to assist in reefing the 
 
LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 265 
 
 mizzen-topsail ; but I well remember that it was before I had thor- 
 oughly recovered from my sea-sickness, and that I was almost 
 bewildered by the hurry and noise attendant on the movements of a 
 hundred and twelve sailors, all pulling, hauling and bawling ; the 
 thunder of the sails as they shook in the wind preparatory to reef- 
 ing, and the fierce roar of the angry wind itself as it rushed through 
 the rigging. However, not willing to appear backward, I scrambled 
 up to the mizzen-topsail-yard awkwardly enough; and, although I 
 had not strength to be of the least assistance, I hung on desperately 
 with the reef-points whipping my ankles most cruelly, and watched 
 the proceedings of the reefers as well as the darkness of the night 
 would allow. My cap and shoes very soon left me, and went spin- 
 ning away to leeward into the sea ; and, to make matters worse, the 
 first attempt I made to haul the wet and heavy canvas upon the 
 yard cost me the ,whole of my finger-nails, which, being rather 
 long, were torn off to the quick by a sudden jerk of the sail, causing 
 the blood to flow freely. After this severe lesson, I never went to 
 reef or furl with my nails projecting beyond the ends of my fingers ; 
 and I also took the precaution of securing my cap with a rope-yarn, 
 and leaving my shoes upon deck. Before the feet become hardened, 
 it is very painful to ascend the ratlins without shoes ; but after a 
 few months the soles assume a horny quality, and are entirely 
 devoid of feeling, and shoes are discarded with contempt, as useless 
 incumbrances. 
 
 4ith. We were delighted at meeting with a homeward-bound 
 vessel, which proved to be the French bark Gaspar, from Guaya- 
 quil to Bordeaux, by which conveyance we sent a bag of letters. 
 
 ~LQth. Whilst divine service was being performed on the quar- 
 ter-deck, and nearly the whole of the passengers were, or appeared 
 to be, absorbed in their devotions, a sharp crack was heard, as of 
 something giving way aloft, followed by a tremendous crash. All 
 started to their feet the passengers rushed into the cuddy, per- 
 haps thinking that the ship had struck ; the sailors looked up to 
 the masts, and it was soon evident to an experienced eye that the 
 mischief arose from the main-royal backstays having been carried 
 away, and this had caused both the fore and main top-gallant masts 
 to break short off. I never saw a more complete wreck ; the sails 
 were all set at the time of the accident, so that they were dangling 
 and flapping about in a most ludicrous manner. There was very 
 little wind at the time, so that we could only account for the mis- 
 hap by laying the blame on the rottenness of the backstays. Not 
 a moment was lost ; Bibles and prayer-books were thrown aside, the 
 boatswain piped " All hands clear wreck ! " the men ran and took 
 
266 LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 
 
 off their clean Sunday clothes, and in a few minutes the rigging was 
 swarming with human beings. So actively did they work, that in 
 a few hours the old broken stumps were down on deck, and new 
 masts sent up in their place, the yards re-crossed, and the sails 
 re-set. 
 
 12th. Fine weather. A variety of games in the evening, of 
 an athletic nature " Sling the monkey," " baste the bear," and 
 " high kokolorum," all of the roughest, and attended with many 
 hard blows and bruises ; but they tended, as Jack says, to keep the 
 devil out of our minds. Regularly, after work was over, in these 
 fine-weather latitudes, the boatswain piped " All hands to skylark ;" 
 every soul on board then considered himself at liberty to amuse 
 himself as he thought best. The men generally congregated in the 
 waist, and played at " leap-frog," " hunt the slipper," or one of the 
 elegant games before mentioned, or would gather aft and look on at 
 the feats of the quarter-deck heroes. The officers and midshipmen 
 made a tolerably large party by themselves, and often danced reels 
 to the sound of the fiddle, until compelled to desist by sheer exhaus- 
 tion, and this with the thermometer at 70 degrees. The passengers 
 would occasionally have a quadrille, and the ladies . were nothing 
 loth to have a smart young officer as a partner. There was a great 
 deal of promenading after sunset, and tittle-tattle, and flirtation, 
 when the young cadets were uncommonly killing, in their own 
 estimation. 
 
 ~L4:th. A most delightful day. Passed the group of islands 
 called La Trinidada, scarcely visible from the deck. 
 
 IQth. Sutepecting, from the quantity of nearly fresh water 
 brought up by the pumps, that there must be considerable leakage 
 from the water-butts, examined those stowed in the forehold, and 
 made the unpleasant, though timely discovery, that no less than 
 seven thousand and forty gallons had leaked out from the second tier, 
 which was wholly owing to the weakness and inferiority of the butts 
 supplied by some rascally contractor. In consequence of this dis- 
 covery, the allowance of water, which had been scanty enough 
 before, was further reduced, so that we had only one quart per man 
 daily. This was to serve for washing and drinking, for soup, tea, 
 and coffee. We suffered intensely from this deprivation ; so much 
 so, that we took every opportunity of stealing water from the stew- 
 ard's cask when he incautiously left it unlocked. In our night- 
 watches we often contrived to open a cistern in which rain-water 
 was collected for the use of the live-stock ; and, although the bev- 
 erage was far from being clean or palatable, we took such ample 
 draughts that the roguery was detected, and the lid of the cistern 
 
LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 367 
 
 fitted with a stout padlock. Having lost this invaluable resource, 
 we hailed with delight a heavy shower of rain, which, being caught 
 in the hollow of a tarpaulin, was greedily sucked up in spite of its 
 tarry flavor. An old soldier, who, with his wife and family, were 
 quartered in the berth adjoining our mess-room, sometimes took 
 pity on us, and gave us a portion of his own small allowance, in 
 return for which we supplied his family with the refuse from our 
 table. I often used to think of the wasteful manner in which I 
 had seen the servant-maids in England rinsing down the door-steps 
 and pavement with nice sparkling spring water on Saturday nights, 
 and the thought of it only made my thirst the more unbearable. 
 We could have obtained water by putting into the Cape, but. the 
 captain did not think the emergency sufficiently great to warrant 
 his thus delaying the voyage. 
 
 21th. A dead calm. The surface of the sea moving in long 
 undulations, but undisturbed save by a wandering zephyr or occa- 
 sional cat's-paw. A boat was lowered, and a party sallied forth to 
 shoot whatever might come in their way. They were successful in 
 bringing down a fine albatross, which they brought on board, 
 together with some masses of broad, ribbon-like sea-weed, which 
 they had found floating on the surface, covered with venerable 
 barnacles. 
 
 Z&tk. Quite an event. After long dallying with t the bait, a 
 shark swallowed the hook, and was triumphantly dragged on board 
 amid the cheers of the sailors, both white and colored. The watery 
 savage struggled tremendously, and lashed h*is tail about with such 
 force, that we were glad to give him a wide berth, for the blow 
 of a shark's tail is sufficiently heavy to break a man's leg. When 
 he was at length dead, the backbone was saved for a walking-stick, 
 and the jaws and head were cleaned by the fifth mate, to take home 
 as a chimney ornament. I. tasted some of the flesh when cooked, 
 and thought it hard in texture, and rancid in flavor ; and yet it 
 might be considered delicate, after the golden-hued pork to which 
 we had been so long accustomed. An albatross was caught on the 
 same day by means of a hook baited with a morsel of fresh meat. 
 These birds are frequently captured in this manner. 
 
 SIst. One of our steerage passengers struck a porpoise with 
 the grainse, an instrument which bears a considerable resemblance 
 to the trident of Neptune, consisting of three barbed prongs fixed 
 at one end of a staff, the other end of which is loaded with lead, not 
 sufficiently heavy to sink the staff entirely, but enough to immerse 
 it a few feet below the surface, thus flinging the barbed extremity 
 into the air. We made a bargain for this fish, and had some steaks 
 
268 LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 
 
 of it broiled for our supper. The flesh was of as dark a red as 
 beef, and resembled that meat in .coarseness of texture, but was very 
 deficient in flavor and juiciness. 
 
 February 2. The weather being very fine, and the wind nearly 
 at rest, Mr. Smart, the chief officer, thought it would be a good 
 opportunity to give the young gentlemen a little lesson in practical 
 seamanship. So, at nine o'clock, the midshipmen, boys, and idlers, 
 were all ordered aloft to practise reefing and furling the mizzen- 
 topsail. This was very hot and fatiguing work, but of course it was 
 calculated to do us great service. We had to go through the whole 
 of the operations several times before the task was executed with 
 sufficient smartness to give satisfaction. The only thing complained 
 of was the excessive thirst produced by working so many hours 
 under a tropical sun, for we well knew that the water-bucket in our 
 berth was as dry as a bone, and that the fowl-cistern was under 
 key and padlock. 
 
 4th, 5th, 6th. Calm, sails flapping heavily against the masts, 
 in consequence of a long continuous swell, which caused the vessel 
 to roll lazily from side to side, a movement by which the rigging 
 was much strained, and the masts and yards kept constantly work- 
 ing, producing far more wear and tear than a gale of wind. A 
 long-continued calm tries the patience of all on board, but more 
 especially the captain, for, whether there be wind or not. at four 
 o'clock every day there are forty passengers clamorous for their 
 dinner, eating and drinking being the grand business of the day 
 with them ; and the ingenuity of the steward is put to a great test 
 in providing a sufficient number of dishes. Nay, dishes there are, 
 in plenty, but, generally speaking, their contents are most ridicu- 
 lously scanty. The poultry had died off by scores, the sheep were 
 running short, pigs, too, were scarce ; so that, in spite of the inge- 
 nuity of M. Antoine, the French cook, salt beef, from the harness- 
 cast, in all its native ugliness, was a standing dish, a veritable 
 piece du resistance. 
 
 The passengers, too, were getting weary of the ship and of each 
 other ; a newspaper was set on foot, but speedily given up by com- 
 mon consent, on account of the personalities which crept in, and the 
 scandal which was circulated through the medium of its columns. 
 
 Stories were circulated of ships which had been detained in the 
 same spot for upwards of six weeks, neither moving backward nor 
 forward one inch; and we all confessed, with lengthened faces, 
 that, from the general appearance of the weather, such was very 
 likely to be our own case. At length a cat's-paw was seen the 
 yards were trimmed ; from the cat's-paw sprang up a steady breeze, 
 
LITE IN AN INDIAMAN. 269 
 
 and one that seemed likely to increase. Towards evening it had 
 drawn aft, and surely, though gradually, freshened to a gale. 
 
 I shall never forget my first night off the Cape, in a north-wester. 
 Our cargo was principally bar-iron and shot ; and a few dozen of 
 the latter, from some little oversight in the stowage, got adrift about 
 midnight, and were bounding and dancing over the bars, and rush- 
 ing from side to side, at each roll of the ship, with a roar like thun- 
 der. It would have been almost certain death to venture into the 
 hold, in order to check these missiles in their mad career, so the more 
 prudent course was adopted of throwing down a number of bales of 
 hay, which checked them, and deadened their velocity sufficiently 
 to enable us to secure them one by one, and stow them in places 
 from whence they could not escape. It was my first watch, that 
 is, from eight p. m. to midnight ; when it was over, I gladly turned 
 into my hammock, and, in spite of the roaring of the wind, the 
 creaking of the bulk-heads, and the smell of rotten cheese, (arising 
 from a private speculation of the carpenter's, whose storeroom was 
 abreast of my hammock,) I fell asleep. At about three o'clock in 
 the morning, the head lanyard of my hammock either broke, or was 
 cut by some malicious person, and I found myself, quite unexpect- 
 edly, sprawling upon my back, upon the chain cable, which was 
 ranged on the deck, immediately under my hammock. The back 
 part of my head had come in contact with the iron-bound corners of 
 a sailor's chest, and was bleeding profusely from a deep triangular 
 wound. When I had somewhat collected my scattered senses, and 
 comprehended my situation, I jumped up, ran into our berth, bound 
 a handkerchief tightly round my head, and then commenced re-sling- 
 ing my hammock, standing meanwhile barefooted in the rusty water 
 which flooded the deck, and groping in darkness for the blankets 
 and pillow, which, when found, were dripping wet. While thus 
 occupied, I heard the boatswain's shrill call, followed by his hoarse 
 voice, rolling along the gun-deck, " All hands reef topsails. Bear 
 a hand here, young gentlemen. No time for tying up your gartejs 
 when the ship 's overboard ! " Half-stunned as I was by my late 
 blow, I went up with the rest, and the first thing that met my eye 
 to windward was a large water-spout, apparently bearing rapidly 
 down towards the ship. One of the quarter-deck guns was loaded, 
 and pointed in the direction of the advancing column ; but just as 
 the order was about to be given to fire, it dispersed, being at that 
 time about a quarter of a mile distant. Scarcely an hour had 
 elapsed, during which we were employed in shortening sail, when a 
 whirlwind was seen smoking along, which appeared to be large 
 enough in circumference to swallow us up with ease. Every eye 
 
270 LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 
 
 gazed on it with some anxiety, as it came swiftly onward, the waters 
 whirling and boiling with inconceivable velocity, and all felt greatly 
 relieved when it passed ahead of us, although not more than twenty 
 yards from our jib-boom end. 
 
 The topsails having been reefed, I went below again, and requested 
 the doctor to examine my cranium. Having cut away some of the 
 clotted hair, and probed the wound, he declared that the skull was 
 intact, (although I imagine, judging from the scar which remains 
 to this day, that the bone was considerably indented,) and dismissed 
 me with a strip of adhesive plaster, not even offering to apply it for 
 me ; so I went to the galley, and, with the assistance of the captain's 
 cook, the ingenious Antoine, mended up the gap in a very secure, 
 if not in a very scientific, manner. The cutting down of hammocks 
 is a common practical joke, but then it is usually done upon the 
 humane system of cutting the foot lanyard, which is not dangerous. 
 In the midst of this rolling, confusion and bloodshed, we rounded 
 the Cape of Good Hope. When dinner-time arrived, as the rolling 
 was still incessant, we found thfet nothing could be persuaded to 
 remain in a state of quiescence for a single moment upon the mess- 
 table, notwithstanding forks were stuck into it in every available 
 position ; so, acting upon the ingenious suggestion of our caterer, we 
 turned our table legs upward, placed the soup tureen and plates 
 inside, and then squatting down upon the deck, took a mouthful 
 whenever a convenient opportunity offered, each man of course help- 
 ing himself, and looking out to keep his own plate on a proper bal- 
 ance. The soup having been disposed of, some on the deck, and 
 some down our throats, the pork was brought in ; and as no dish 
 could be expected to live through such a gale, it was placed for 
 safety in the tureen, and then, holding biscuits in our hands, by 
 way of platters, we each cut off a portion with our pocket-knives ; 
 the mess knives and forks had mostly rolled underneath the chests, 
 and were consequently smothered in tobacco-ashes, &c. This was 
 all done amid much laughter and merriment ; many ludicrous up- 
 sets took place, generally ending in the smash of some article of glass 
 or crockery which we could but ill spare. It would be difficult to 
 form an idea of the fun which a scene of this kind creates ; whilst 
 one is laughing at his neighbor's disaster, he gets his own lapful of 
 pease-soup, and another finds himself rolling amid a shower of plates, 
 tin pannikins, pork bones, and other debris upon the sloppy deck. 
 
 Just opposite to the door of our berth, (we had been removed fur- 
 ther aft during the passage,) which now looked out on the square of 
 the main hatchway, the third mate slung his cot ; and, sitting astride 
 on this, with their dinner between them, he and the fourth mate 
 
LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 271 
 
 were congratulating themselves upon the cleverness of their manoau- 
 vre. Just at this moment, the ship's bell, weighing about one hun- 
 dred weight and a half, which was hung on a hook, as is usual, at 
 the fore part of the mainmast, having been unhooked by a loose 
 rope, descended the hatchway like a meteor, chipped the steps of 
 the ladder, grazed the cot upon which our worthies were discussing 
 their viands, passed within an inch of both of them, and then 
 alighted on the deck, making a very deep indent in the teak, to 
 mark the spot where it fell. As nobody was injured, we all laughed 
 heartily at the adventure, but it was really a narrow escape for the 
 officers. 
 
 8th. More rolling and reefing. Immense destruction of crock- 
 ery in the mess-room. 
 
 27th. Poor old Daniels, A. B., departed this life. The doctor 
 pronounced the cause of his death to be old age and diseased lungs. 
 He was a quiet, inoffensive old man, and had latterly been so imbe- 
 cile and helpless that he was not much missed. We buried him 
 next day with the usual ceremonies. The body was stitched up in 
 a hammock, with two or three cannon shot at the foot to sink it ; it 
 was then laid at the gangway upon a grating, the whole decently 
 covered with a Union- Jack. All hands were called to " bury the 
 dead ;" the crew were ranged in order along the deck, the officers 
 grouped around the captain, who, when all were bareheaded and 
 attentive, read the service in a distinct voice ; the grating was 
 sloped, and the lump of canvas, still retaining a ghastly resemblance 
 to a pallid, swollen corpse, slipped off, and, plumping into the sea, 
 was immediately out of sight. That dull, heavy plunge haunted 
 me for many hours afterwards, I know not why, save that it was a 
 sound which had never before struck my ear. Since then, I have 
 seen so many poor fellows, soldiers and sailors, passed over the gang- 
 way, that the sound leaves now but a momentary impression. 
 
 From this time forward until Good-Friday (April 9), which em- 
 braces a period of about five weeks, we had a wearisome succession 
 of calms and light winds ; the latter being fortunately in general 
 from a favorable quarter. We still continued upon the short allow- 
 ance of water before mentioned namely, one quart per diem for 
 all purposes ; and had it not been for the assistance of these fair 
 breezes and smooth sea, which enabled us to slip along at an average 
 rate of three miles an hour, we should inevitably have been placed 
 in the disagreeable dilemma of having only a pint. As it was, we 
 were beginning to think such a catastrophe far from improbable, and 
 it was with great joy, therefore, that on Good-Friday we saw two 
 native vessels, which, from the course they were steering, we judged 
 
272 LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 
 
 had lately sailed from Bombay. We hailed these vessels, and upon 
 their heaving to, sent a boat on board with an officer to ask them if 
 they had any water to spare. The poor fellows, although their stock 
 was but small, and they had a long voyage before them, willingly 
 gave us a portion. Their joint contributions, however, did not 
 amount to more than eighty gallons ; but as we might now hope, 
 with a moderate breeze, to reach Bombay in a few days, and we yet 
 had a little of our old stock remaining, this small addition removed 
 all anxiety upon the subject. 
 
 On nearing Bombay, it was pleasing to mark the joy which ani- 
 mated the countenances of the Lascar portion of our crew. Many 
 were the questions eagerly put as to the latitude and longitude at 
 noon, and the probable time of arrival. Their love of country must 
 be stronger, I think, than that which exists in the breasts of us 
 phlegmatic Europeans ; or, if this be not the case, their ardent and 
 earnest manner of expressing themselves would naturally lead one 
 to suppose so. 
 
 About a week before sighting our destined port, a holiday was 
 allowed to the Lascars, in order that they might have an opportu- 
 nity of duly celebrating a religious festival, known to us by the 
 name of Obson Jobson. On this grandj and to them solemn occasion, 
 they all attired themselves in their smartest scarlet turbans (varie- 
 gated cotton skull-caps embroidered with gold) and robes of snowy 
 whiteness ; and in the afternoon went through a variety of strange 
 uncouth dances, accompanied by much stamping of the feet to a 
 certain slow measure, with a wild and yet not unmusical song, in 
 which at certain intervals all joined in chorus. From the darksome 
 recesses of the fore-orlop (the part of the ship appropriated to the 
 use of the Lascar crew) arose clouds of incense, and there were per- 
 formed many mysterious rites, of which the Europeans were not 
 allowed to be witnesses : indeed, our men had previously received 
 strict orders not to give needless offence by impertinent intrusion. 
 I gathered from some of the Lascars afterwards that each man had 
 to pass through some kind of sword ordeal, the exact nature of 
 which I could not precisely comprehend ; .but it appeared to me 
 that it was resorted to in order to discover whether any of them had 
 proved unmindful of their religious duties since the last Obson Job- 
 son festival. Towards night they danced upon deck in rings to the 
 sound of tom-toms, and their own monotonous and melodious chant, 
 at the same time flourishing naked cutlasses kindly supplied by 
 the captain for the nonce and long poles decorated with red 
 streamers. This amusing and to me perfectly novel spectacle was 
 at length put a stop to by darkness. 
 
LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 273 
 
 April 1(M to I2th. A strong breeze ; 
 ress, and every heart beating in joyous anticipation of seeing land. 
 A number of bets were now made amongst the passengers as to the 
 probable day, and even hour, of our arrival at Bombay. A fifteen- 
 pound- lottery was also established, tickets five shillings each ; on 
 each ticket was written a certain day and hour, and the fortunate 
 holder of that ticket upon which was written the exact time that 
 the ship came to an anchor, became the winner. When the captain 
 happens to be the holder of the prize-ticket, there are always many 
 most uncharitable insinuations made to the effect that he has re- 
 tarded or accelerated the speed of the vessel by his management of 
 the sails, in order to insure his own success. 
 
 13^. One of our colored crew, a Seedy, or native of Madagas- 
 car, died after a short illness this morning, and in the afternoon was 
 thrown overboard by his messmates, without any religious ceremonies 
 that I was aware of. 
 
 This day we were favored with a strong breeze on our quarter, 
 which was undoubtedly our best point of sailing. With every stitch 
 of canvas spread, our ship was truly a magnificent sight. I have 
 often seated myself upon the waist hammock-nettings, on a clear 
 moonlight night, and looked aloft with feelings of intense admiration 
 at the mighty cloud of swelling canvas above me, and inwardly ex- 
 claimed that, of all the works of man, a gallant East Indiaman of 
 the olden time is one of the most beautiful to look upon. The water 
 was very smooth, notwithstanding the freshness of the breeze, and 
 we bowled cheerily along at the rate of ten miles an hour. In 
 another day we expected to see the land, and you may imagine that 
 I was all impatience to gaze upon the sunny shores of glorious Ind. 
 
 Having now brought the good old Weatherly within about a day's 
 sail of the much-desired haven, I purpose devoting a few pages to 
 miscellaneous matters mostly connected with the manners of living 
 and the daily routine of existence on board an Indiaman. The times 
 appropriated to meals are as follows : Breakfast at eight ; dinner 
 at noon ; supper at half-past five or six. Our allowance of meat 
 was the same as that of the men namely, salt beef and salt pork 
 on alternate days. Upon Thursdays and Sundays, which were beef 
 days, a certain quantity of flour and suet was served out, in order 
 to make a pudding, the mixing of which was performed by our mess- 
 boy, one of the apprentices. The beef had been so long in pickle, 
 and had consequently grown so uncommonly hard, that a very 
 small portion went a great way. It was so destitute of fat, that I 
 have seen two mids, who had hitherto been on the best of terms, 
 18 
 
274 LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 
 
 become the most bitter enemies, merely from the circumstance of 
 one purloining a fragment of fat from the plate of the other. I 
 have heard people declare that capital durable snuff-boxes have been 
 made of this salt-junk, or salt-horse, as it is usually called. Upon 
 pork days we had pea-soup, which, in the way it is made at sea, is a 
 very nice thing. I believe the only ingredients are soft water and 
 peas enough peas should be used to make the soup of the consis- 
 tency of thin paste. On board ship, when the peas do not mash up 
 readily, from the hardness of the water, a little soda is added ; and 
 occasionally the cook puts a round shot into the coppers, which, from 
 the constant motion of the vessel, acts as a sort of crushing machine. 
 Sometimes a few lumps of fat pork are boiled up with the soup,, at 
 others a red herring, which enhances the flavor greatly. Peas-pud- 
 ding (alias dog's body) is often allowed upon pork days, which is 
 serviceable in counteracting the greasiness of the meat. 
 
 Our . pork itself was as destitute of lean as the beef was of fat, 
 and, from the effects of age, had become so rusty, as to be as yellow 
 as a guinea. But the biscuit, or, as we called it, sea-cake, was per- 
 haps the worst article supplied ; from age and dampness it had con- 
 tracted a very musty taste, and was literally moving with weevils 
 and their grubs the latter much resembling their cousins the nut 
 maggots. Eefore eating it, we were forced to give it several sharp 
 raps on the table, in order to dislodge the little strangers from their 
 snug retreats. The water, which was from the bosom of old 
 Thames, and which is notorious for going through seven separate 
 stages of putrefaction before it is in a fit state for use, had, during 
 the latter part of the passage out, become so inky in hue, so odorous 
 from the quantity of sulphuretted hydrogen it contained, that, had 
 it not been for excessive thirst, we should have cast it from us with 
 disgust. As it was, we were always fain to strain it through a 
 towel or piece of rag before we could make it available for drinking. 
 When it was my turn to go down into the forehold, and take care 
 that the candle was safely placed while the water was being served 
 out, I have seen a blue flame playing around the hole when the bung 
 was removed. On one occasion, when ihe cooper took out the bung, 
 and stooped down to smell the water, in order to ascertain its condi- 
 tion, he inhaled some foul gas, and went staggering from cask to 
 cask like a drunken man. Notwithstanding the indifferent nature 
 of our provisions, which were certainly worse than I have ever met 
 with since, we always made a hearty meal ; for our exposure to the 
 open air gave us enormous appetites ; besides, we had a few little 
 dainties in our own mess-store, towards the purchasing of which each 
 man had paid down 15 at Gravesend. These stores were of course 
 
LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 275 
 
 used very sparingly. They consisted chiefly of hams, tongues, 
 pickled tripe, Normandy pippins, cranberries, pickles, and cheeses, 
 with a few tins of bouilli. We generally had our cranberry pud- 
 dings boiled in a deep pewter washhand basin, of the Mambrino's 
 helmet form. Sunday was the day for the appearance of some of 
 these dainties, when we also mounted a nice clean tablecloth, and 
 tried to make as respectable an appearance as possible ; but, curi- 
 ously enough, we seldom ate our Sunday dinner in peace. Some- 
 times a squall came up, which rendered it necessary to take in the 
 royals ; at others a vessel was in. sight showing signals, which we 
 were called upon to answer. 
 
 One fine Sunday during this passage we were sailing pleasantly 
 along on the starboard tack, with a moderate breeze and a lively 
 jumping sea; divine service had been duly and decorously per- 
 formed ; all the mids were in their best togs blue jackets, white 
 ducks, and glossy pumps ; the boy had laid the tablecloth, and 
 displayed to the best advantage our rather diminished stock of 
 glass, crockery, and Britannia metal ; the soup was brought in a 
 splendid mess of preserved bouilli ; then came the second course 
 salt-horse ; the caterer commenced carving ; we were all watching 
 him with hungry eyes, when a mighty green wave came rushing in 
 at the open port-hole, and washed caterer, mids, beef, plates, knives, 
 forks, spoons, and all, out at the cabin-door ; and, worse still, as the 
 very climax to our disaster, the boy was just entering with the 
 plum-duff, and, coming face to face with the watery intruder, was 
 taken off his legs, whilst the unlucky duff went rolling into the lee- 
 scuppers. The man at the wheel had luffed up the vessel rather 
 suddenly, which was the cause of the mishap ; but as it happened 
 two or three times, we suspected that it was done intentionally, by 
 way of joke, perhaps by the orders of the fourth officer, who dearly 
 loved a lark. Of course, after this, our dinner was a scramble ; the 
 beef was not injured, and the duff was just eatable. By dint of 
 energetic baling and swabbing, we got the berth dry again in an 
 hour. In spite of this inconvenience, we always preferred running 
 the risk of shipping a sea to keeping the port closed, in which case 
 we had no light save that afforded by a small swinging lamp, which 
 never could be coaxed into brightness. 
 
 Besides the amusements before mentioned of dancing and athletic 
 games, we seldom found anything to divert its, or to relieve the 
 monotony of a sea-life, so that any circumstance which afforded a 
 little fun or excitement was hailed with delight. One incident of 
 this kind is so fresh in my recollection, that I am tempted to record 
 it. After we had been at sea a few weeks, the young cadets who, 
 
276 LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 
 
 at the commencement of the voyage, suffered awfully from the " mal 
 du mer," got their sea-legs, and at the same time recovered their 
 usual conceit arid self-sufficiency. Consequently, when they saw 
 the mids clambering aloft every day like so many monkeys, they 
 felt a lively ambition to do the same. One afternoon, when it was 
 nearly, calm, several of the young militaires issued out from their 
 dinner in high and vinous spirits, and burning to distinguish them- 
 selves in the eyes of the ladies by some remarkable achievement. 
 Ere many minutes had elapsed, a few of the most active and enter- 
 prising were seen plodding their way up the mizzen rigging. Now 
 it is a long-established custom, and, in my opinion, a very excellent 
 one, to secure hand and foot all such landsmen and novices as shall 
 venture aloft for the first time, and not to release them until they 
 have either paid their footing in coin of the realm, or made a solemn 
 promise so to do if released. Accordingly, our young adventurers 
 were no sooner three parts up the rigging, than half-a-dozen fine 
 active young fellows of our crew, who had been slyly watching their 
 opportunity, sprang forward, each provided with a stout lashing. 
 The cadets, who, it is to be supposed, had some notion of the custom 
 before named, beholding these formidable preparations, now strained 
 every nerve to escape; and a chase commenced which kept all 
 hands in a perfect roar of laughter. Young Hoppner, however, a 
 six-foot youth, afforded the finest sport. A sailor had caught hold 
 of one of his feet, upon which he with much dexterity slipped off 
 his boot, and again scrambled upwards until intercepted by the 
 futlock rigging beneath the mizzen-top. Whilst endeavoring to 
 struggle through lubber's hole, his nimble pursuer grasped his other 
 foot, and was again left with the same booty as before. The inde- 
 fatigable Hoppner, having wriggled into the top, jumped from ratlin 
 to ratlin of the topmast rigging, but without his boots, he found the 
 pain so unbearable to his tender soles, that he seized one of the 
 backstays, and slid like lightning to the deck, thus escaping from 
 the disappointed tars, who were quite astonished to see such spirit 
 and agility displayed by a "lanky lubber of a landsman." Poor 
 young Hoppner had evidently been aloft before, but I doubt whether 
 he had ever before slipped down a backstay, for the whole of the 
 skin was stripped, or rather burnt, from the palms of his hands, 
 which generally happens to inexperienced persons making a rapid 
 descent of this nature. Whilst this exciting and amusing chase 
 was being carried on, the other cadets had been captured, and 
 tightly lashed, hand and foot, to the shrouds ; nor were they re- 
 leased until they had consented to pay a liberal footing. They 
 had all the good sense to look upon the whole affair as a capital 
 
LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 277 
 
 joke, and I believe their captors were very well satisfied with the 
 ransoms obtained. 
 
 The second mate usually assists the captain in his navigation. 
 He and the third mate keep alternate watches, and, while on deck, 
 are responsible for the safety of the ship, and the proper manage- 
 ment of the sails as the wind varies. Great vigilance is required 
 in watching the changes of the weather, which are sometimes very 
 sudden, and show no warning of their approach. The third mate 
 messes with the fourth, and, as I have before said, has charge of a 
 watch, at which he is equally responsible with the second mate for 
 the well-being of the vessel, and must always be careful to keep his 
 weather-eye open. Sleeping while on watch is one of the greatest 
 crimes of which an officer can be guilty, and is punished accordingly. 
 The fourth mate is not usually permitted to take charge of a watch, 
 but does duty on deck with the chief mate, remaining forward, and 
 attending to the trimming of the head-sails, under the direction of 
 his superior. If, however, any of the other mates are ill, the cap- 
 tain can appoint him to do their duty if he thinks him competent 
 and trustworthy. The third and fourth mates are respectively 
 invited to dine with the captain once a week. The fifth mate 
 messes with the midshipmen, and is their caterer. He assists the 
 second mate in his watch in the same manner as the fourth assists 
 the chief mate. Some of the largest-sized East Indiamen carry a 
 sixth mate ; the Weatherly did not, therefore I scarcely know what 
 are his duties, but I presume that he was placed in the same watch 
 as the third mate, to render him such assistance as lay in his power. 
 
 The boatswain and carpenter of our ship were personages of very 
 considerable importance", as is probably the case in all vessels of 
 equal tonnage; but our carpenter was held in especial respect, 
 being a remarkably shrewd, clever, and well-educated man; not 
 only a perfect master of his own craft, but a proficient in the sci- 
 ence of navigation, and well-informed upon all useful topics ; in 
 fact, he was competent, in case of any great emergency, of taking 
 charge of the ship. He, as well as the boatswain, had been in the 
 East India Company's service ; and some of the raids hearing them 
 say that they still had their old Company's uniform coatees in their 
 chests, coaxed them, with much difficulty, to wear them one Sunday 
 at muster ; but such was the universal laughter produced by the 
 appearance of their ridiculous little bobtails, that the abashed war- 
 rant officers speedily dived, vowing that from that day forward they 
 would never again be made fools of by a set of boys. The uniform 
 of the superior officers was, on the contrary, very handsome and 
 becoming ; swords were worn by them, and dirks by the midshipmen. 
 
278 LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 
 
 One day I was ordered by the captain to send the /carpenter to him 
 instantly, he having discovered a leak just over one of his book- 
 shelves ; I hastened to perform his bidding, and going boldly to 
 the "carpenter," said, "Carpenter, the captain wants you in his 
 cabin directly." The person thus addressed looked at me with a 
 quiet, and perhaps somewhat contemptuous smile, but not deigning 
 to take any further notice of me, he calmly resumed his labor. I 
 repeated my message, and insisted on the urgency of the case, 
 when the " carpenter," as I had unwittingly called him, who was a 
 tall, noble-looking old man, drew himself up to his full height, and 
 eaid, in a deliberate manner, " Young gentleman, I am the carpen- 
 ter of this ship, but my name is not ' Carpenter,' but Mauley; and 
 you will further understand that I have a handle to my name : you 
 will therefore please to address me, in future, as Mr. Mauley;" 
 saying this, and smiling kindly, he hastened to obey the captain's 
 summons, leaving me " taken aback," but not offended, at his just 
 and plain-spoken rebuke. I found on inquiry that both himself 
 and the boatswain were entitled, by usage immemorial, to insist 
 upon the addition of "Mr." to their surnames, and I never again 
 gave offence on that score. In every ship where proper discipline 
 is maintained, these matters, trifling as they appear, are strictly 
 attended to, and with good results. In the next ship which bore 
 me to the East, a craft of about 700 tons burthen, the carpenter, a 
 rough, hardy Swede, rejoicing in the name of Burstrome, was not 
 offended in the slightest degree at being called " Chips," even by 
 the black cuddy servant ! 
 
 The midshipmen are divided into watches, according to then* 
 number, two or three in each watch. Sometimes they are appointed 
 to keep the same watches as the mates, so that each mate may 
 always have the same mids in his watch. This is very pleasant 
 for the mids when they are upon good terms with the officer to 
 whose watch they belong. We were made to keep watch and 
 watch, (which is four hours on duty, and four hours off, alter- 
 nately,) until after we left St. Helena on our homeward passage, 
 when we were indulged with three watches. 
 
 The midshipmen are invited, two and two, by turns, to dine in 
 the cuddy. We all disliked this ceremony very much on account 
 of the inconvenience attendant upon dressing in our wretched dark 
 and dirty den. The ale and wine we were allowed on those 
 occasions were declared by some to be the only redeeming points. 
 Conversation there was none ; the passengers appeared to view us 
 with contempt, and the captain seldom condescended to speak to 
 us except in a jeering manner for his own recreation. When I 
 
LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 279 
 
 received my first invitation to dine in the cuddy, I was considerably 
 agitated, and naturally asked my messmates a few questions as to 
 the usual etiquette practised upon such occasions ; and they, always 
 ready for a joke, told me that it was necessary, upon my first enter- 
 ing the cuddy, to make a formal bow to the captain, and then to 
 make another, equally ceremonious, to the chief mate. I followed 
 these instructions literally, and I have no doubt that my bows were 
 preeminently graceful, for I could see both gentlemen smile approv- 
 ingly as they returned the salutation ; but why they should sud- 
 denly turn away their heads, and smother their faces in their hand- 
 kerchiefs, I could not at the moment conceive. With my white 
 kerseymere waistcoat, blue swallow-tailed coat, with tremendous 
 double-gilt East India Company's buttons, stockings of immacu- 
 late whiteness, and polished dancing-pumps it is scarcely possible 
 that they could have found food for laughter in my personal appear- 
 ance. Be this as it may, experience maketh wise ; and from that 
 time henceforward Captain Courtly never received any more polite- 
 ness from me than was actually required by the discipline of the 
 ship. 
 
 Place a landsman on the quarter-deck of a first-class Indiaman 
 after she has been two months at sea ; let it be on a fine Sunday 
 forenoon, just before the hands are turned out to muster, and when 
 every rope is belayed to its proper pin, and the spare ends arranged 
 carefully on the deck in Flemish cheeses, fakes, and figures of 
 eight ; when the hammocks are neatly stowed in the nettings, and 
 the deck is so smooth and clean that it seems a sin to tread upon it, 
 and that landsman will say, " Everything is perfect, everything 
 complete, everything in its place ; there is nothing in the world to 
 do, so we may put our hands in our pockets and rest contented for 
 a while." But the chief mate, that unwearying taskmaster, knows 
 better, as will be best shown by the following rapid outline of the 
 employments of men and midshipmen during one day, which may 
 be taken as a specimen. 
 
 At four o'clock in the morning the chief officer's watch com- 
 mences. The watch scrub, wash, and sometimes holystone the 
 decks. The midshipmen and apprentices scrub and wash the poop, 
 and then swab it> up dry, taking a laudable pride in having their 
 deck whiter than any other ; but, by the by, teak decks, owing to 
 the natural color of the wood, never look white, however clean they 
 may be, although the tint is very pleasing, and affords relief to the 
 eye in a glaring sun. The midshipmen are expected to pump all 
 the cisterns full communicating with the quarter galleries, which is 
 never less than an hour's job, and very severe exercise. At seven 
 
280 LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 
 
 bells (half-past seven) the hammocks are piped up ; and then, will 
 ye nill ye, every man who possesses a hammock must jump up, lash 
 it neatly, and take it on deck. When all are brought up, they are 
 carefully stowed in the nettings by the quartermasters, under the 
 superintendence of two young gentlemen who are called up from 
 their watch below for the purpose. If any of the hammocks are 
 lashed in a slovenly manner, or merely bundled up in what is called 
 a " midshipman's roll," the owner is punished by stoppage of grog, 
 and made to secure it in a more ship-shape manner. Another 
 midshipman of the watch below is turned out at six o'clock, to go 
 down in the hold and act as a candlestick, whilst the cooper pumps 
 the water into buckets for the use of the ship's company during the 
 day. I often used to drop asleep whilst holding the candle, much 
 to the annoyance of the poor cooper. The purser, whose duty it is 
 to see that the water is properly measured out, sits in an easy-chair 
 upon the gun-deck, close to the hatchway, with his legs crossed, and 
 smoking a Manilla cheroot, or sipping his coffee, with the air of an 
 Eastern prince. Our purser, who had risen from the situation of 
 cooper, looked with extreme contempt upon the poor midshipmen, 
 and openly expressed his anger when he saw that our names had 
 the precedence of his own in the ship's articles. He would have 
 been very friendly and obliging towards us if we had once admitted 
 his superior rank, but this was a concession which we never felt any 
 inclination to make. 
 
 At eight o'clock, pipe to breakfast : half an hour is allowed for 
 that meal. After breakfast the watch on deck are set to work un- 
 der the boatswain, repairing defects in the rigging, putting on 
 Scotchmen, that is, chafing battens made of split bamboo, 
 making spunyarn, sinneth, gasketts, mats, robands, &c. The me- 
 chanics by which are understood the armorer, carpenter and his 
 mate, the cooper all set about their proper occupations. The 
 sailmaker and two or three expert workmen repair and alter sails 
 as necessary. The midshipmen of the watch on deck run errands, 
 or sit down and paint ropes, or, if squally, clue up and furl the 
 mizzen topgallant sail, or royal, and, when the squall is over, 
 set them again. Of course, in case of a shift of wind, the whole 
 watch is required to haul upon the braces; and the mids, al- 
 though not compelled to pull, are always ready enough to lend a 
 hand; indeed, he must be an incorrigible lazy one who could 
 stand and look on without a desire to "pull his pound." Time 
 slips away quickly thus employed. When a midshipman's watch 
 on deck is over, his watch below, as it is called, commences, and 
 he gets but little time to himself, as it is usual for him to keep 
 
LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 
 
 281 
 
 watch in the hold when the hatches are taken off for the sake of 
 Tentilation. I have spent many hundreds of melancholy hours in 
 this gloomy employment, with no other companions than rats and 
 cockroaches ; no sound save the monotonous rippling of the water 
 against the bends ; no smell save the odoriferous exhalations of the 
 bilge -water, and no sight save dingy casks and cases, bar-iron, shot, 
 and small coal. At noon the boatswain pipes to dinner. One 
 hour is allowed the men for this meal ; the mids only get half an 
 hour, as they have to relieve each other (I allude to those who 
 have the watch on deck) ; the oldsters are very apt to take the 
 lion's share of this hour, and leave only ten minutes for their unfor- 
 tunate messmates or watchmate. In such cases retaliation in the 
 same coin is generally resorted to, which ultimately brings the sub- 
 ject under the notice of the officers, who insist upon justice being 
 done. 
 
 After dinner the jobs of the morning are resumed. At five the 
 gailmaker stows his sails away; the spunyarn, mats, &c., are put in 
 the boatswain's locker ; and the boys get their brooms, and give 
 the decks a clean sweep fore and aft. At half-past five, or there- 
 abouts, the crew are sent to supper, for which half an hour is 
 allowed. After supper the hammocks are piped down ; all hands 
 come on deck, and each fixes on his own "dreaming bag;" mid- 
 shipmen are stationed to preserve order and regularity ; at a signal 
 from the officer of the watch, the boatswain "pipes down," which 
 is done by a peculiarly prolonged stridulous whistle ; away dart the 
 men simultaneously, and tumble one over the other down the fore 
 and main hatchways, laughing and jumping like so many boys just 
 escaped from school. Thus ends the working-day. The amuse- 
 ments and skylarking after working-hours have already been de- 
 tailed. 
 
 On Sunday, when the weather was fine, and there were no 
 squally appearances to windward, we had divine service performed 
 upon the quarter-deck, which, together with the poop, is covered by 
 a stout canvas awning, and shaded by curtains of the same material. 
 The capstan is decorated with an ensign, surmounted by a cushion, 
 a Bible, and a prayer-book, and thus serves as a reading-desk for 
 'the captain, alongside of whom stands the doctor or purser, to make 
 the responses. All the cuddy chairs are set round for the use of 
 the passengers, whilst the crew are seated upon capstan bars, with 
 either end resting upon a bucket : when the ship is lively in her 
 motions, these rickety seats cause a corresponding liveliness in the 
 sitters, who sometimes go, half-a-dozftn at a time, sprawling to lee- 
 ward. When the weather is wet, and the wind unpleasantly strong, 
 
282 LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 
 
 the service is performed in the cuddy, when all the men are at lib- 
 erty to attend, but the majority prefer passing the time in their 
 hammocks. During the first few Sundays of the voyage, Captain 
 Courtly also read evening prayers in the cuddy, and insisted upon 
 the attendance of all the young gentlemen. At these times he 
 favored us by reading a discourse out of some old sermon book ; 
 but his choice unfortunately was bad, for the lecture was so long, 
 and so purely doctrinal, as to set the whole of his congregation 
 a-yawning. 
 
 Sunday is a day of rest as far as wind and weather will permit, 
 but in the course of my experience I have seen more squalls and 
 gales, and reefing and furling, on Sundays than on any other day 
 in the week. The crew are all dressed in their cleanest white 
 clothes, and lounge about, pipe in mouth, on the forecastle. Those 
 who can read, eagerly devour everything they can lay hands 
 on in print, and drawl it out aloud for the benefit of a group of at- 
 tentive listeners. The variety of their recreations is rather amusing : 
 I have heard one man reading aloud from the " Quaver," a collec- 
 tion of 1000 songs, toasts, and sentiments ; another spouting some 
 modern melodrama ; another engaged in a thrilling penny romance ; 
 whilst here and there, apart from the rest, was a solitary old gray- 
 beard quietly reading his Bible, with a short black pipe or dudheen 
 between his teeth. 
 
 April 15^. At half-past six, in the last dog-watch, the loom 
 of high land was seen bearing from the ship north-east by east a 
 welcome sight for the poor mids, who w'ere now at their wits' end 
 for clean linen ; many of them had been in most awkward dilemmas 
 for want of a decent shirt, especially when invited to dine with the 
 captain. The steward was instructed to invite the young gentle- 
 men, each in his regular turn, which he accordingly did ; but when 
 the party invited happened to be short of clean linen, he would 
 swear positively that it was not his turn, or be suddenly seized with 
 a violent headache ; and the poor steward after being bandied from 
 one to the other, would indignantly leave it to be settled amongst 
 themselves merely hinting that, out of respect to the captain, 
 somebody must come ; so that he who had best economized his 
 wardrobe at the commencement of the passage, dined most fre- 
 quently in the cuddy towards the sequel : a circumstance which, 
 even if noticed by the captain, would have been a source of amuse- 
 ment to him, rather than of displeasure. I have often, when awak- 
 ening on a Sunday morning, burst into a cold sweat, and my heart 
 has sunk within me when the consciousness broke upon me that I 
 had not a clean shirt wherein to make my appearance at muster. 
 
LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 283 
 
 Frequently the loan of three, or even four colored shirts was offered 
 for the temporary loan of one white one : and still more frequently the 
 contents of the dirty clothes-bag were examined, and the cleanest 
 of the dirty ones selected for use. Etiquette forbade the use of 
 colored shirts at the cuddy table. We were not so awkwardly cir- 
 cumstanced with regard to trousers, for those which were made of 
 canvas or duck could be rendered beautifully white by merely being 
 washed in salt water ; while the blue-cloth garments, if greasy and 
 tarry, wore restored to their original gloss by immersion in pea-soup 
 a plan which, incredulous as I was at first as to its merits, I am 
 now convinced is a very excellent one. 
 
 At half-past seven, Bombay Lighthouse reported to be in sight 
 from the mast-head, and soon after it was visible from the deck. 
 Fired guns and burned blue lights. Stood in for the land. At 
 half-past nine passed the Fairway Buoy, and anchored in eight 
 fathoms, with best bower, and furled sails; During the night a 
 pilot came on board, and at daylight we hove up the anchor, stood 
 in for our final lying-ground, and having there moored ship, at once 
 commenced landing the passengers and their baggage. From the time 
 we began heaving up until the final mooring of the ship, the young 
 gentlemen were employed upon the gun-deck as messenger-men; 
 which employment consists in " lightening along" or lifting a heavy 
 hawser called a "messenger," which is the purchase used for weighing 
 the anchor by the capstan, and which, in the present instance, was cov- 
 ered with a thick coat of very greasy clay, bespattering and bedaubing 
 us until we bore a strong resemblance to Thames mud-larks. Of 
 course, under these circumstances, no leisure was allowed for looking 
 at the scene around us ; therefore my first impressions of Bombay 
 Harbor were not at all agreeable. 
 
 My duties upon the gun-deck being at length brought to a con- 
 clusion, I hastened to the upper deck, and there, for the first time, 
 the beautiful harbor of Bombay, almost landlocked by fertile 
 islands, presented itself to my admiring gaze, bright and joyous in 
 the rays of the morning sun, under a perfectly cloudless sky of in- 
 tensest blue. Hundreds of stately ships, many of them the finest mer- 
 chantmen in the world, were at anchor around us ; and our own good 
 ship, with all her yards exactly squared by lifts and braces, masts 
 well stayed, and every rope hauled as tight as a harp-string, floated 
 as proudly as any. Then there was the town, divided into the 
 White and Black towns : the former consisting chiefly of two-storied 
 houses, with well-chunammed green verandas, and roofs covered 
 with pantiles ; laying no claim, certainly, to architectural beauty, 
 but still appearing suitable to the climate. The basement story is 
 
284 LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 
 
 arched and appropriated to merchandise, the dwelling rooms being 
 all on the first floor. The Black Town is composed entirely of huts, 
 embosomed in cocoa-nut, banana, and other trees, which cause it to 
 look very picturesque at a distance ; but it is found to be squalid 
 and filthy on a nearer approach. 
 
 While I was gazing in mute admiration at the beautiful land- 
 scape, a group of the oldsters, who were gathered together on the 
 poop with a telescope, which passed rapidly from hand to hand, 
 were discussing in purely nautical language the merits of the vessels 
 within sight, finding fault with some, and praising others, with so 
 solemn an air, as they turned their quids in their mouths, that even 
 I, young and green as I was, could not refrain from laughing in 
 my sleeve at their assumption of knowledge : unfortunately, they 
 never agreed in their opinions, and great was the wrangling in con- 
 sequence. " Yon bark has made a snug stow of her sails," said 
 one. "Do you call that a snug stow? that shows what you 
 know about it ! Why, an old collier would furl her sails better than 
 that ! " " Yonder is the Berkshe ; I know her by the cut of her 
 gaffs." " No, it is n't : I '11 bet any money that it is the Clarence. 
 But see what an awful steene she has in her bowsprit, and how 
 badly her yards are squared what can the lubbers be thinking 
 of?" and so on. But I have omitted the oaths with which these 
 oracular responses were rounded. Then followed an argument 
 as to whether Yankee or Scotch vessels were in the habit of carrying 
 the longest poles in harbor ; an argument that was carried on with 
 so much heat, that two of the young gentlemen nearly came to 
 blows. If my opinion were now asked upon this highly-important 
 subject, I should say that the practice was most in vogue among the 
 Yankees, they being notorious for aspiring to pierce the clouds with 
 their moonsail poles ; but in one particular instance 'I saw a ship 
 from Glasgow which aspired higher still, the altitude of whose fine- 
 weather sticks was absolutely marvellous. My respect for the 
 opinions of the second-voyagers had gradually diminished ; for al- 
 though I had at first looked upon them with a species of awe, as 
 persons who had seen great wonders and undergone many hard- 
 ships, a feeling which they seemed anxious to keep alive by their 
 marvellous stories, as I grew older and wiser, I began to suspect 
 that half their adventures were fictitious mere children of the im- 
 agination. 
 
 The Weatherly was soon surrounded by dingees, (the native 
 boats ;) and the decks became crowded with doby wallahs, or wash- 
 ermen, soliciting the favor of our patronage, and bringing forth the 
 thumb-worn certificates which they had obtained from former em- 
 
LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 285 
 
 ployers. Upon reading some of these I found that they were far 
 from complimentary ; indeed, some certified that the bearer was the 
 greatest rogue under the sun, and contained a friendly warning not 
 to have any dealings with him. One of these doby wallahs insisted 
 on his right to have my washing, having, as he said, washed for me 
 last voyage ; the rogue even congratulated me upon my appearance 
 since he saw me last ! Then came a host of shoemakers, tailors, 
 and barbers; the services of the latter were soon put in requisition, 
 and I well remember having my smooth face shaved all over, 
 merely because of the novelty of being scraped by a native artist ; 
 my hair certainly required a little arrangement, for the last person who 
 cut it was the snip's cooper, who did not trim it exactly in the newest 
 London fashion. But the most welcome of our visitors was old 
 Abraham, the bum-boatman, who, with his son Isaac, were engaged 
 to attend the ship, as they had done for many voyages past, while 
 she should remain in port. I cannot describe the eagerness with 
 which we pounced upon his soft Uick, (bread,) milk, butter, eggs, 
 and fruit, or with what delight we quaffed his foaming toddy. A 
 four months' passage really makes one truly appreciate the good things 
 of this earth : we had had little else but maggoty biscuit, rancid 
 salt meat, musty suet, and putrid water, since we left Gravesend ; 
 and now we saw spread before us a profusion of white bread, eggs, 
 and milk, besides bananas, mangoes, water-melons, and other lus- 
 cious products of the glowing East. 
 
 In consequence of having sailed in the same ship with Lascars, I 
 was not so much struck with the dress and language of the natives 
 as I should otherwise have been ; and yet there was much that 
 was novel and interesting for my senses to dwell upon. The gro- 
 tesque build of the native craft, the numbers of turkey buzzards 
 which hovered among the shipping, the voices of the fishermen in 
 their frail canoes, clustering under the bows, crying mutchee (fish) 
 in a prolonged and plaintive tone, the tall cocoa-nut trees among 
 the houses on shore, the very odor of the smoke produced by 
 burning teak or cocoa wood, all were different from anything I 
 had before experienced. We now set to. work in good earnest dis- 
 charging our cargo, the most disagreeable portion of which was the 
 bar-iron. It was the duty of the young gentlemen to remain in the 
 hold, and keep a correct tally, or account of each bar as it was 
 passed up ; and in the same way with the shot and shell a most 
 tedious and unintellectual avocation, during which we were exposed 
 to the full annoyance of the dense clouds of rust. Our work always 
 commenced at daylight, and sometimes, but not invariably, ceased 
 at sunset. But we were not now exposed to the horrors of hope- 
 
286 LITE IN AN INDIANA]*. 
 
 less thirst : water was plentiful, so that those employed in the hold 
 always had a bucketful mixed with lime-juice and sugar a most 
 refreshing beverage, but one which must be used with caution in a cli- 
 mate where the slightest excess of this nature will induce dysentery. 
 The water, which was supplied to us from the shore, was decidedly 
 unwholesome when used alone ; and in consequence of this being the 
 latter end of the dry monsoon, when the tanks are nearly dried up, 
 it was thick and muddy, of a deep yellow color, and had a most un- 
 pleasant earthy taste : in short, it was nothing else than puddle 
 water. From this cause, and perhaps from too free an indulgence 
 in fruit, especially pine-apples, which are always dangerous, two of 
 my messmates had very severe attacks of dysentery, while I myself 
 did not wholly escape. The life of one of the patients was at one 
 time despaired of; and he scarcely recovered from the effect of his 
 illness during the whole of the return voyage. 
 
 I will now try and give some idea of the great irksomeness of 
 harbor work, which was so disagreeable as to cause us to rejoice 
 when we saw Blue Peter flying at the fore, and heard the orders 
 given to weigh the anchor, make sail, and stand out for sea. But 
 before this consummation we had much to endure. I may as well 
 mention here, among other harbor nuisances, the swarms of mosqui- 
 toes which buzz around one's hammock, almost preventing sleep, and 
 nearly blinding him with their venomous bites ; they used to punish 
 me most cruelly. They are formed like an English gnat, but are 
 only half the size ; the body is variegated, black and white ; the 
 sting produces violent itching and inflammation ; if the wound is 
 rubbed, and the skin broken, it immediately festers, and spreads 
 rapidly, as I found from sad experience, in a subsequent voyage. 
 
 23cL Busily employed in discharging cargo. Received the 
 first boat-load of cotton, and commenced stowing. As, with the 
 exception of Sundays, I was in the hold every day from this time to 
 the day when the ship left Bombay namely, June 5 (about six 
 weeks) I will at once give a sketch of a midshipman's life in har- 
 bor: 
 
 At five o'clock in the morning the hands were turned out, and 
 each person had a quart of rice gruel, flavored with sugar, and a 
 gill of rum or arrack, which is recommended by the doctors as a 
 very excellent mixture to prevent dysentery in a hot climate ; it is 
 very palatable ; and from what I have myself experienced, and what 
 I have observed in others, I should certainly pronounce it to be 
 highly beneficial. At six o'clock lanterns are brought forward, 
 candles lighted, and stowing cotton begins. The sole duty of the 
 midshipman is to look after the lights, to keep them trimmed, and 
 
LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 287 
 
 to see that they are not put in dangerous situations. There are 
 three gangs of stowers, under the superintendence of the second, 
 third, and fourth officers these are the European ship's company ; 
 the chief mate overlooks and directs the whole. Besides the Euro- 
 peans, there are several gangs of hired Seedys a very powerful 
 race of men, I believe from Madagascar or the adjoining mainland, 
 who are under the guidance of a superintendent of their own nation. 
 These men work well ; and it is astonishing to see with what ease 
 they throw about the closely-compressed and heavy bales of cotton, 
 and work the massive screws which are made use of in stowing. 
 Every bale is driven so close to its neighbor that sixpence could not 
 be insinuated between them. The Seedys never work without a 
 great deal of noise, which, having some resemblance to a tune, and 
 being furnished with a chorus, must, I suppose, be dignified with the 
 name of singing. When well treated that is to say, treated like 
 men they will work cheerfully ; but if an attempt is made to 
 impose extra hours upon them without equivalent pay, they manifest 
 a great deal of independence. The heat down in the hold while 
 cotton-stowing is intense ; but apparently not injurious to health, if 
 a person upon coming up does not expose himself suddenly to the 
 cooler air, while the perspiration is upon him. Flannels are univer- 
 sally worn, and prove a great safeguard against too rapid evaporation. 
 We only came up to our meals, and then down we plunged into the 
 hold again ; and often did not cease stowing until eight or nine at 
 night ; but six was the proper hour for " knocking off." 
 
 The reader will, no doubt, agree with me, that this was but a poor 
 six weeks' amusement for a youngster. One day the men on the 
 upper deck commenced hurling the bales down into the hold without 
 giving any previous notice to stand from under, and I, happening 
 to be just then passing under the hatch-way, escaped by a miracle : 
 the rope with which the bale was secured had grazed my shoulders 
 slightly, but no other injury was done save my being stunned for a 
 few moments by the suddenness of the concussion. The Seedya 
 raised a yell, to warn those on deck to avast heaving, and removed 
 me from the place of danger, evincing the greatest solicitude fbr my 
 safety ; nor would they believe that I was unhurt until they saw 
 me walking about again as usual. Poor fellows ! they, too, had kind 
 and feeling hearts, uncouth, uncivilized niggers as they were termed. 
 
 May Zlst still found us fully employed in stowing cotton; but 
 we had by this time brought our cargo within a short space of the 
 hatchways, which was very fortunate, as the weather now became 
 Oppressively hot, as is always the case at this time of the year. 
 
288 LITE IN AN INDIAMAN. 
 
 Heavy stormy appearances were observed daily, with light, variable 
 winds, and sometimes rain, thunder, and lightning. 
 
 June 5^, Left Bombay for England, with light westerly 
 breezes, and fine weather, but a heavy swell from the south-west, 
 which proved that it had been blowing hard from that quarter, and 
 showed us but too plainly what we might reasonably expect when 
 we got outside. It is perhaps needless to remark here, that June is 
 the month in which the change of the monsoons, or periodical winds, 
 takes place from north-east to south-west upon this coast, and that 
 they invariably blow with terrific violence at their first setting-in, as 
 well as at their termination. 
 
 6^. Moderate breezes at noon, with heavy masses of black 
 clouds, and constant thunder. Towards evening, variable winds, 
 with strong pufis, and much rain. I noticed on this day that, 
 although we were several miles from the land, the ship was swarm- 
 ing with butterflies and sphinges, which seemed to have taken shelter 
 from the hurricane which their instinct taught them was brewing. 
 
 1th. Forenoon, light breeze and rain. Afternoon, breeze in- 
 creasing rapidly, with very severe squalls, until it blew a heavy 
 gale, with still stronger squalls, and a tremendously high sea run- 
 ning. 
 
 Sth. The sea had now risen to a fearful height ; the squalls 
 were so heavy, as to threaten us not only with the loss of our sails, 
 but of our spars also. We were, in fact, in a very awkward predica- 
 ment, being on a lee-shore, and unable to show any canvas to the 
 gale, on account of the crankness of our vessel. At three A. M., the 
 horizon to windward looked blacker than ever, and I, being on watch 
 at the time with the third mate, ignorant as I was of tropical phe- 
 nomena, thought that there was mischief coming ; and scarcely had 
 this thought passed through my mind, when a blast of wind struck 
 the ship, so as to lay her very nearly on her beam-ends, and she 
 was yet heeling over still more, insomuch that she would inevitably 
 have " turned turtle," as sailors say, had not the mainsail fortunately 
 split, with a roar like thunder. You can form no idea of the up- 
 roar which was caused by the huge fragments of heavy canvas flap- 
 ping in the gale : it was harsh, strange, and deafening. The blast 
 passed over, but the gale itself freshened. The hands were turned 
 out, the remaining shreds of the mainsail secured, the topsails treble 
 reefed, and the foresail hauled close up. At four A. M., finding the 
 squalls increase in severity, and that the ship was drifting bodily, 
 at a rapid rate, towards the land, moreover lying nearly on her 
 beam-ends under snug canvas, we sent down the top-gallant yards 
 and masts, scuttled all the water-butts which were stowed in the 
 
LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 289 
 
 waist on the upper deck ; and at six A. M., finding the ship still drift- 
 ing very fast towards the shore, the captain held a consultation with 
 the chief and second officer and carpenter, and after due considera- 
 tion of the danger of the ship's position, being then within a few 
 miles of an iron-bound coast, where, in the event of striking, 
 destruction would have been inevitable, and also considering the 
 threatening aspect of the weather, it was determined to throw over- 
 board part of the gun-deck cargo. This was accordingly done with- 
 out delay, to the extent of upwards of one hundred bales of cotton 
 and wool, in addition to which, one of the quarter-deck carronades 
 was launched out at the gangway. At ten A. M., another mainsail 
 was with difficulty bent ; the treble-reefed topsails, which had been 
 lowered to the cap, were hoisted ; and at noon we ventured to set 
 the foresail and reefed mainsail. At the time of throwing the cot- 
 ton overboard, \he sea was running what the song-books call moun- 
 tains high which, by the by, is not an inappropriate, though hack- 
 neyed simile. The cold rain drenched us to the skin, and five 
 planks of the upper deck were under water, so much was the vessel 
 heeled over. Solid green seas kept bursting over us, in such pon- 
 derous masses, that the poor half-drowned doctor (the usual name for 
 the cook) could not get his fire to burn in the caboose, so that we 
 were forced to make a meal off raw pork and biscuit, which, how- 
 ever, was not so very unpalatable when washed down with a goodly 
 dram of arrack. 
 
 I will leave the reader to imagine how glad we were to see the 
 black rocky coast gradually growing more and more indistinct. If 
 the gale had not slightly moderated towards the afternoon, as I have 
 mentioned, I should not now, in all probability, be living to tell the 
 tale. Our mess-room needed but this adventure to put the finish- 
 ing stroke to its wretchedness and discomfort. The plate-racks had 
 come down, nearly all the crockery and glass were demolished, our 
 chests were adrift (mine, especially, in which a bottle of mango 
 chutnee was smashed, and the contents soaked into my stock of 
 clean white shirts), the legs of the table broken, our oil-can had 
 sprung a leak, and the lamp-oil was dripping into our jar of moist 
 sugar ; and for the remainder of the voyage we were glad to drink 
 our tea out of tin pots called pannikins, and eat our dinners off 
 pewter no great hardship certainly, but a much humbler way 
 of dining than we were accustomed to at the commencement of the 
 voyage. 
 
 9th. Although, fortunately, the gale moderated sufficiently to 
 allow of our gaining a secure offing, it soon renewed its bitterest 
 fury ; but all apprehensions for our safety were now over ; we had 
 19 
 
290 UFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 
 
 a fine ship, as tight as ever floated, a good crew, and smart officers, 
 so that with good sea-room we knew we could weather many a hard 
 gale yet. 
 
 The gale had been increasing towards midnight of the 8th, and 
 on the morning of the 9th we were forced to heave-to under small 
 canvas. At half-past ten it blew with tenfold fury, or, as Jack 
 says, " there was a fresh hand at the bellows." The squalls were 
 even more violent than on that fearful night when we lost our new 
 mainsail ; we therefore shortened sail yet more. 
 
 13th. Frequent light squalls, accompanied with rain. At 
 night, two whirlwinds were seen, which, from their phosphorescence, 
 appeared like immense revolving globes of fire. 
 
 14:th. While washing decks in the morning watch, I saw a 
 tremendous -fish under the quarter, with two heads on its shoulders; 
 it was broad and flat, like a skate, and might have' been ten feet 
 long and eight feet broad. It was a hideous-looking creature ; I 
 was told that the common name for it was the Devil-Fish. 
 
 We now learned that we were bound to the Isle of France (the 
 Mauritius) for water ; for, as I have before had occasion to state, 
 we were obliged to scuttle all the water-bulks which were stowed on 
 the upper deck, in order to ease the ship of her top weight. 
 
 18^. Crossed the line during the night. From this day until 
 the 30th, not a day or night passed without squalls and heavy chilly 
 rain, so that dry clothes were absolutely at a premium. 
 
 July 1st. A pleasant day. The trade, and fine, clear weather. 
 
 2c?. The island of Roderigo was seen from the mast-head ; but 
 from the prevalence of light winds and calms, we did not get to the 
 Isle of France before Tuesday, July 6. At eleven A. M. on that 
 day we anchored a cable's length outside of the Bell Buoy. I had 
 no opportunity of going pn shore here, but I was very much struck 
 with the beauty of the island as seen from the roads ; it appeared to 
 be a succession of mountains and ravines, interspersed with fine 
 patches of table-land, which were highly cultivated, the light-green 
 yellow of the sugar pieces and the dark hue of the coffee ridges 
 presenting to the eye a pleasing diversity of color. 
 
 7th. Crew employed hoisting in water. 
 
 8th. Blowing fresh ; anchor dragged ; veered out chain to one 
 hundred and ten fathoms. Very severe gusts off the land. A lady 
 and gentleman left the vessel, to remain in the island; and this 
 reminds me that I have entirely forgotten to take notice of our 
 homeward-bound passengers. These, with the exception of the pair 
 now mentioned, consisted of a veteran sun-browned major, his young 
 wife, and two lovely flaxen-haired boys ; the widow of a captain, 
 
LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 291 
 
 with her little girl ; and several natives in the service of these par- 
 ties. There was thus in our ease, as in all others, comparatively 
 few returning from a land which, while the field of easy fortune to 
 some, becomes the grave to thousands of the brave and beautiful of 
 our countrymen and countrywomen. 
 
 At nine A. M., weighed and loosed sails. The anchorage at the 
 Isle of France is one of the worst known ; as a proof of which, I 
 may mention that when we got our anchor to the bows, we found 
 that both flukes were gone. These latitudes are all liable to terrific 
 hurricanes in the months of March, April, and May. 
 
 From the Mauritius to the Cape of Good Hope we had a strange 
 medley of fine and bad weather, light winds and fair, followed by 
 squalfs, thunder, lightning, and rain. The young gentlemen were 
 constantly exercised in sending up and down yards and masts. 
 
 2Sth and 29th. We experienced an entire calm. We were 
 then off Cape Francois, on the Aiguilhas or L'Agulhas bank. A 
 scene now commenced which, I fear, will prove too much for my 
 powers of description. Fish of all sizes were caught with hooks by 
 hundreds ; anybody who could procure a few fathoms of twine and 
 a rusty old fish-hook, baited with the smallest possible morsel of 
 pork, was certain of a bite. I caught twenty or thirty with very 
 inferior tackle, whilst those who were better provided pulled them 
 in as fast as they could drop their baits into the water. It was the 
 most amusing sight I ever witnessed, and seemed to partake of the 
 character of a fantastic dream. Every soul in the ship was a fisher- 
 man that day, from the captain seated on the taffrail, with his beau- 
 tiful line and polished hooks, to the little apprentice at the jib-boom 
 end, with his tangled twine (stolen from the sailmaker) and crooked 
 pin. I did not know the names of any of the fish, but the sailors, 
 as usual, found names for them all. There were some which, from 
 their scaliness and peculiarity of form, were called Cape salmon, but 
 in flavor they differed entirely from our fish of that name ; others, 
 with enormous heads and wide mouths, were called Cape cod ; these 
 were obtained of great size ; one of the largest weighed sixty-four 
 pounds. There were many other smaller species; all, without 
 exception, proved to be excellent eating. Having now a great deal 
 more fish than we could eat whilst fresh, we cut them open, and, 
 sprinkling them with pepper and salt, hung them up in the air to 
 dry. Our mess-boy had his hands full enough of work. 
 
 A breeze springing up, we saw Table Mountain on Friday, July 
 30th ; and after much baffling with light breezes, about the 7th of 
 August we fell in with a tolerably steady south-easterly wind, which 
 is in those parts called the trade-wind. The south-east trade is^said 
 
292 LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 
 
 oy the old sailors never to have been so steady since the East India 
 Company resigned their charter as a commercial body. We found 
 it blew true enough to the point ; the sea was smooth, the sky cloud- 
 less, and the moonlight nights were absolutely enchanting ; the stars 
 were numerous and brilliant, and the air bewitchingly soft and 
 balmy. The sails being once set, and the yards laid square, we had 
 nothing to do but make all the ropes fast, and go to sleep in the 
 night, whilst during the day we painted and beautified the ship both 
 internally and externally ; indeed, we required a little rest, after 
 the months of rude buffeting among gales and squalls which we 
 had lately experienced. 
 
 Sleeping upon deck is called, I know not why, " calking ;" and 
 there is no doubt that the midshipmen are more practised " calk- 
 ers " than any others on board. During the trades, the youngest 
 midshipman regularly came on deck to keep his night-watch, stag- 
 gering under the weight of his " calking-irons " by which the 
 reader is to understand that he brought up five greatcoats, whether 
 his own or his messmates he was not very particular about. I ritever 
 knew such a boy for sleep, nor one who did it so systematically ; he 
 had one coat on his back, another for a pillow, one to lay under 
 him, and two to lay over him ; and, thus furnished, he slept for two 
 hours as comfortably as if swinging in his hammock. When there 
 were two midshipmen in a watch, they agreed to divide the four 
 hours between them, each taking two hours' sleep, and two hours to 
 keep awake and strike the bells. The officers of the respective 
 watches, knowing that young people require rest, good-naturedly 
 acquiesced in or rather winked at this pleasant arrangement, which, 
 if it had been faithfully carried out, would have succeeded admira- 
 bly, and given satisfaction to all parties ; but, unfortunately, nine 
 tunes out of ten, the lazy young vagabond, who ought to have been 
 on the alert, was found in a deep slumber by the side of his watch- 
 mate whose turn it was to sleep. The call for '.' young gentlemen " 
 was unanswered, and then the incensed officers insisted upon both 
 walking the deck for the whole of the four hourg the most dread- 
 ful punishment that could well be invented for these sleepy-headed 
 youngsters. I have myself fallen fast asleep whilst sitting on a 
 bucketful of water before commencing to wash decks, and been 
 rudely aroused by the capsizing of the bucket, caused by the ship's 
 motion, and found myself sprawling in a pool of water ; and yet .1 
 was always considered to be the most wakeful in the mess. 
 
 We passed several ships whilst running up the trades, and ex- 
 changed numbers occasionally. 
 
 On the morning of Sunday, August 15, at 7.40 A. M., saw the 
 
LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 293 
 
 island of St. Helena rising like a huge precipitous rock from the 
 ocean. The duty of the ship that is, preparing to come to an 
 anchor prevented the performance of divine service. At 11.30 
 anchored in James Town Roads in nineteen fathoms with sheet- 
 anchor. We found lying here the most beautiful model of a vessel 
 that can be imagined ; she was a long, low, clipper-built craft, one 
 of the slavers captured by our indefatigable though useless cruisers. 
 Captain Courtly and others went on board, and they said she was 
 quite a picture all her belaying-pins of highly-polished brass, 
 ring-bolts grafted over with the greatest neatness, mahogany fife- 
 rails, &c. ; and the chief cabin was furnished in a style of positive 
 luxury. The slaves, with which the vessel was found to be crammed 
 when taken, were still detained on board, on account of their having 
 some contagious disease, of which they were daily perishing by 
 scores, and which rendered it imprudent to land them. During our 
 short stay we procured several sacks of water-cresses, which, after 
 our long-continued salt fare, were an inestimable luxury ; knowing 
 how" wholesome they were under our peculiar circumstances, we 
 devoured them in enormous quantities medicinally. 
 
 Jarnes Town has a pretty appearance from the anchorage, lying 
 as it does embowered in trees in a sort of valley or large ravine, with 
 the high and barren rocks rising around it, the summits of which 
 are strongly fortified and bristling with cannon, some of which are 
 placed in such positions as to make the gazer wonder how they could 
 have been got there. We could see a clump of dark trees on an 
 eminence behind the town, rather to the left, which we were told 
 was the estate of Longwood, of Napoleon celebrity. The island to 
 seaward generally presents to the view a perpendicular wall of 
 gloomy rock of immense height. 
 
 August 16^. At four, p. M., we left St. Helena, and made all 
 sail with a good trade-wind for England. 
 
 October 6th. At 11.30, p. M., saw the Start Light, and on 
 Wednesday, the 6th, passed the Isle of Wight. 
 
 1th. Took a pilot on board. Passed Dover. 
 
 9th. In the river. It being a drizzly, disagreeable morning, Mr. 
 Smart determined upon giving the young gentlemen a final benefit. 
 He ordered them all to come on deck and wash the poop ; but some 
 of us having only come off watch at four o'clock, others having no 
 inclination to get a wet jacket, and all feeling a spirit of indepen- 
 dence now they were in England, we flatly refused to obey his sum- 
 mons ; long did he bellow down the main hatchway in furious tones, 
 and long did we sit and mock at his fruitless rage. But fear of the 
 consequences at length made us creep up one by one, and then we 
 
 
294 LIFE IN AN INDIAMAN. 
 
 were called up for punishment. Every one of the mutineers was 
 mast-headed. I was sent to the mizzen-topmast-head, and ordered 
 to scrape sundry spots of grease and tar from off the paintwork of 
 the cap and masthead. I remained there four hours ; and as the 
 job which I had to do was merely nominal, I passed that time most 
 delightfully, in watching the manoeuvres of the hundreds of vessels 
 which constantly crossed the river. It was amusing, from my 
 elevated position, to watch the swift little steamboats dexterously 
 threading their way amongst the groups of dingy-looking coal brigs, 
 and to see our men at work washing the decks, looking like so many 
 pigmy automata. This was the first mast-heading I ever had for 
 punishment, and the last also; as it was not for a very heinous 
 offence, I am not ashamed of giving it a place in this faithful narra- 
 tive. At eight o'clock we were all ordered to come down. We ate 
 our breakfast. with a keen appetite, as was proved by the rapid dis- 
 appearance of several quatern loaves, with butter to match, which 
 we had purchased alongside. 
 
 10th. Passed Gravesend during the night, in tow of two steam- 
 tugs, and brought up off Purfleet. 
 
 12th. Arrived in Blackwall import-docks was dismissed 
 took a long, last, lingering look, with a somewhat moistened eye, at 
 the gallant old craft which so well had done her part, and went up 
 by the Blackwall railway to London. 
 
TIE BEALEB IS WISBOI, 
 
 WHEN you place yourself under the hands of a barber, he usually 
 chatters politics : in the East, he tells you a story. While I was 
 having my head shaved in Cairo, the operator told me the following 
 tale: 
 
 In the city of Cairo, near the Bab el Fontonah, once dwelt a 
 man, a saddle-maker, named Radawan, who had a young wife and 
 one son. He was of a timid disposition, and was much respected by 
 his neighbors. The great delight of his heart was, on returning 
 from his shop precisely at sunset, to find his house set in order, a 
 sleek black servant lad ready to open the door ; a fat black cook 
 giving the last turn, with a wooden spoon, to the stew ; his plump 
 little wife half-way down the staircase to meet him ; and his chubby 
 little baby gnawing his fists in an old carved cradle in one corner of 
 the leewan. Then did Radawan feel that he was a little prince ; 
 that he had his dominions and his subjects more obedient than those 
 of many a mighty monarch ; and that he was looked up t to with 
 love, not unmixed with a spice of awe ; for, like many timid men, 
 Radawan liked sometimes to fancy himself fierce and tyrannical. 
 
 We are going to introduce him in one of his most overbearing 
 moods. He entered, one evening, the little courtyard of his house, 
 imitating, as far as his placid countenance would allow, the awful * 
 glance which he had observed on the visage of the head of the police, 
 as he rode through the bazaars, that day, preceded by criers, offering 
 mighty rewards for the discovery of certain robbers and murderers 
 who had lately been exercising their dreadful trade with impunity. 
 The sleek boy, being no physiognomist, received him with familiar 
 welcome ; the fat cook bawled out from the kitchen door that the 
 kababs were done to a nicety. But his assumed sternness did not 
 relax, and he ascended the stairs with a slow and stately step. As 
 usual, he met his plump little wife in the dark, and his dignity was 
 half disturbed by a girlish embrace. Yet he only slightly swept the 
 offered cheek with his compressed lips, and, continuing to ascend, 
 
 (295) 
 
296 THE DEALER IN WISDOM. 
 
 entered the saloon, pretending not to glance at the cradle, sitting 
 down, in a rigid attitude, in his accustomed corner of the divan. 
 
 Ayesha did not care a fig for these grand airs ; and busied her- 
 self in preparing the supper, without so much as asking her lord 
 what ailed him. Radawan began to feel uneasy ; he perpetually 
 shifted his position, called for a pipe- in a tone intended to be author- 
 itative, and looked very hard at the little clenched hands which he 
 saw fighting with the air close by. Still, he had determined to play 
 the tyrant that evening ; and, in trying to look awful, twisted his 
 meek face into so many grimaces, that Ayesha, as she tripped by, 
 could not forbear laughing. 
 
 "Why laughest thou, woman?" said Radawan, succeeding, at 
 length, in curving his brows into a real frown. " Where is the 
 respect due to my beard ? " 
 
 " Thy beard, master ! " cried the impudent little woman, twist- 
 ing one of her hands in that sacred appendage, and putting the other 
 round his neck. "When have I ever wanted in respect to it? 
 especially since, by the advice of thy neighbor Saad, thou hast let it 
 grow until it is as long as little AH there." 
 
 " woman ! " replied Radawan, trying to repulse her. " Scoff not 
 at the advice of neighbor Saad ; but listen to what he has told me 
 to-day. He says it is absurd for a man of my standing to be con- 
 tent with one wife, and has offered me his daughter a sweet virgin, 
 straight as a wand, with eyes like gazelles, a nose like a pillar of 
 silver, a mouth like a rosebud but, what aileth thee, woman ? " 
 
 Ayesha started back, and remained standing before her husband 
 with a countenance so charged with anger, a form so trembling with 
 emotion, that, had he observed it, he would certainly have been 
 frightened out of his wits. It was some time before Ayesha could 
 speak ; but at length she said : 
 
 "And did he tell thee all this of his daughter? Why, I have 
 ^seen her at the bath she is pale, one-eyed, flat-nosed, big-mouthed, 
 crooked, and thin (here she glanced at her own somewhat fully 
 developed form). Never mind, however, Radawan. Marry as 
 many wives as you please ; only remember, if you bring them home 
 here, I will kill them all, then kill you, then kill myself, and then 
 yes, then I will kill baby ! " 
 
 At this terrific threat Radawan became very white, murmured 
 that he was only joking, as, indeed, he was, in a way ; and soon 
 afterwards found his beard in the hands of that identical little 
 offspring whose life one must suppose to have been saved by a prom- 
 ised abstinence from polygamy. Unfortunately for him, his skin 
 was remarkably tender ; and the affectionate tugs to whieh he was 
 
THE DEALER IN WISDOM. 297 
 
 subjected, but of which, under the circumstances, he dared not com- 
 plain, brought the tears into his eyes, and produced a variety of 
 facial contortions, which the baby innocent thing ! believed to 
 be made wholly and solely for its especial amusement. Ayesha, who 
 understood the case better, and had not quite suppressed her indig- 
 nation, smiled maliciously at the punishment her lord was under* 
 going ; and fairly danced with delight when, unable any longer to 
 endure the pain, Radawan roared to be released. 
 
 After this they supped comfortably : Ayesha pretending, at first, 
 humbly to serve the great-soul ed Radawan ; but at length, with an 
 audacity not common among Muslim women, she sat down by his 
 side. They had become quite merry, when, suddenly, a loud shriek 
 disturbed them, and the fat cook rushed in. "0 master! 
 mistress ! " she cried ; " there is a dead man a murdered man 
 in the court." For some time the husband and wife could neither 
 speak nor move. At length, however, each taking a light, they went 
 forth into the gallery; and, looking down, beheld, sure enough, the 
 corpse of a man, with a large wound in the forehead, lying in the 
 very centre of the court. At the same moment loud knocks were 
 heard without, lights flashed in through the windows, and numerous 
 stern voices called aloud to open. 
 
 Radawan lost all presence of mind, and thought of nothing but 
 flight ; by no means an absurd expedient ; for in the East, the fact 
 of a dead body being found in the house would infallibly condemn 
 him, especially as so many criminals had lately escaped with impu- 
 nity. Hurriedly embracing his wife, Radawan rushed up to the 
 roof of his house, expecting to be able to pass along to that of a 
 neighbor, and through that to make his way to the street. In his 
 hurry, he had forgotten that he had himself caused a lofty strong 
 paling to be erected, in order to prevent people from stealing his 
 fowls. After vainly endeavoring to break through this, he returned, 
 scarcely knowing what he did : and, happening to glance over the 
 parapet, saw that the street was filled with soldiers, and that the 
 Head of the Police himself was there. This sight gave him the 
 courage of despair. A narrow street separated him from a house 
 somewhat less lofty than his own. He cleared it at a bound ; and, 
 as he alighted in safety, heard the crash of his own door ; it was at 
 length burst in. Fear winged him. He ran along the roofs like a 
 cat, reached a ruin through which he scrambled down into the 
 street; and, hastening through several narrow dark lanes, reached 
 the city wall. With wonderful energy for him, he untwisted the 
 linen of his turban, tied it fast to a projecting stone, let himself half- 
 
 
298 THE DEALER IN WISDOM. 
 
 way down, then dropped ; felt a little stunned ; but, recovering, took 
 to his heels, and found himself in the city of tombs. 
 
 The Arab story-tellers say, perhaps in their love of the marvel- 
 lous and the supernatural, that Radawan fell asleep in one of the 
 ruined tombs, and was found by the genius of the place, an ugly 
 whimsical monster, by whom he was transported in a second to the 
 gates of Damascus. Perhaps it was so ; perhaps Radawan joined a 
 caravan he observed next morning starting for Syria ; any how, at 
 the chief city of Syria he arrived, without encountering any partic- 
 ular adventure's. 
 
 It happened that the saddler's entire stock of cash consisted of 
 the proceeds of his day's sales. When this was exhausted, he took, 
 with the resignation peculiar to the East, to begging, and might have 
 remained a beggar all his life, had he not one day entered a spacious 
 
 nsion situated in the suburbs of the city. He cried out as he 
 advanced, " I am hungry, Lord ! " but seeing no living soul to 
 interrupt him, continued to penetrate into the house. At length he 
 came to a retired apartment, where he saw an old man absorbed in 
 meditation, surrounded with ancient books and strange instruments. 
 Two or three times Radawan repeated his cry, each time in a louder 
 key, before his presence was noticed. The old man at last looked 
 up and said: 
 
 " My son, who art thou ? " 
 
 Radawan explained that he was a beggar, and had found the 
 house deserted. 
 
 " Thus it is," said the old man. " Whilst I meditate, my ser- 
 vants, knowing that I shall not watch their movements, either go 
 forth to amuse themselves or sleep." 
 
 " master ! " quoth Radawan, boldly, " may I suggest to thee 
 a remedy ? " 
 
 " You may." 
 
 " Appoint, then, a wise, prudent, honest, stern man to be the 
 supervisor of thy servants one who uniteth benevolence with fierce- 
 ness of disposition ; one who will be generous to reward, but swift 
 to punish ; and by the terror of whose looks alone obedience may be 
 enforced." 
 
 " Where, stranger, may I find such a treasure ? " asked the 
 
 " Lo ! " cried the saddler with astonishing courage, " such a man 
 gtandeth before thee ! " 
 
 The old man laughed much at those words ,- for Radawan had 
 grown so humble-looking and meek in adversity, that a turtle-dove 
 
THE DEALER IN WISDOM. 299 
 
 would scarcely have been alarmed at his aspect. The old man 
 replied : 
 
 " Thou art a strange fellow. Sit down, and tell me thy story." 
 
 Radawan did as he was desired ; and the host, having listened 
 attentively, said, " It is well. I will appoint thee supervisor of my 
 servants ; but I pray thee," he continued, smiling, " endeavor to 
 moderate the ferocity of thy appearance ; for my servants have been 
 accustomed to gentle treatment, and the severity, pride, and majesty 
 of thy looks might too much appal them." 
 
 Radawan was delighted at the success of this interview, and 
 promised to manifest his native fierceness as little as possible. He 
 succeeded so well, that the servants, who had first been disgusted 
 with the appointment, soon found that they led an easier life than 
 ever ; for the venerable Abou Kasim, relying, or pretending to rely, 
 on the vigilance of the supervisor, shut himself up for whole weeks 
 in his room to meditate alone. 
 
 A year passed. What with presents and salary, and some little 
 speculations he had made, Radawan found himself master of six 
 thousand pieces of gold. He now began to think of his plump little 
 wife, and his chubby little baby, and longed to return, even at the 
 risk of his life. One day, therefore, he broke the subject to his 
 master, who replied : 
 
 " My son, I have conceived a great affection for thee, although I 
 do not find thy ferocity of the avail that I anticipated. I would 
 willingly keep thee with me ; but thy reasons for returning are 
 strong, and I do not think thou hast now much to fear." 
 
 So Radawan determined to return to Cairo; but before he went, 
 he desired to satisfy his curiosity about his master ; for he had never 
 been able to learn who he was, or whence he derived his wealth. 
 With an assurance, therefore, derived from his simplicity, he stated 
 what he desired to know. Abou Kasim was not offended, but 
 replied : 
 
 " I cannot relate to thee my story. It would be too long. I 
 will tell thee, however, my occupation ; I am a Dealer in Wis- 
 dom." 
 
 " Is wisdom of ready sale ? " inquired Radawan, a little puzzled. 
 
 " Not very ; and therefore I am obliged to sell it at a high price. 
 I charge a thousand pieces of gold for every maxim." 
 
 " Master," replied Radawan, " I have six thousand pieces of gold. 
 Take one thousand and sell me a maxim." 
 
 Abou Kasim took the money, and answered 
 
 " Avoid bye-roads. 1 ' 
 
300 
 
 THE DEALER IN WISDOM. 
 
 Then the fierce supervisor put another thousand pieces of gold 
 into his hand, and received in return this saying 
 
 "Ask only about what concerns thee." 
 
 A third thousand purchased the following sentence 
 
 " Think before acting." 
 
 " Now," said Radawan, " I have invested half my capital in wis- 
 dom ; the rest I will keep for my necessities." 
 
 At parting, Abou Kasim, instead of giving him a handsome pres- 
 ent, as he expected, put into his hands a large loaf of bread, on which 
 he told him to make his first supper, on arriving at his home. How- 
 ever, Radawan was grateful for the kindness he had received, kissed 
 his master's hand at parting, and went his way rejoicing in his newly 
 acquired wisdom, which he was very anxious of an opportunity for 
 practising. He thought it best to journey in part by sea, so he 
 embarked at Jaffa, and, after a stormy passage, arrived at length in 
 the city of Alexandria. 
 
 Having rested one day, he resolved to start immediately for Cairo, 
 by way of Rosetta and the Nile, then the regular route. Some 
 travellers advised him strongly to go all the way by land ; and as 
 they showed that the journey could be thus performed more rapidly 
 than by water, he was about to consent, when he remembered the 
 first maxim he had bought "Avoid bye-roads." So he refused 
 the proposition, and, carrying out his original plan, reached Cairo in 
 safety one evening after the closing of the gates. On turning away 
 to seek for a place of rest for the night, he met a man in rags. He 
 soon recognized him to be one of the travellers who had tried to 
 persuade him to accompany them ; and learned that the overland 
 party had been attacked by robbers, who had seized everything they 
 had, and slain all except this one. Radawan silently turned his 
 face to the East, and uttered a short thanksgiving, saying, " I thank 
 thee, Prophet, (whose name be exalted,) for the wisdom thou hast 
 sent me by thy servant, Abou Kasim." 
 
 Then the two went their several ways, seeking for a place in 
 which they might sleep. The traveller, having nothing to lose, lay 
 down under a tree ; but Radawan, who had not left his money in 
 the boat, wandered about until he saw a mansion standing in a fair 
 garden. He approached, and knocked at the door, which, after a 
 little time, was opened by a tall man of stern aspect ; who, however, 
 on hearing what he required, bade him enter and make himself at 
 home. When the door was closed, Radawan's heart misgave him. 
 He feared he had entered a robber's den ; for the man was armed 
 with a sword and pistols, and there was no sign of any other person 
 living in the house. However, it was new too lato to retreat, and he 
 
THE DEALER IN WISDOM. 301 
 
 followed his host into a large apartment, around which were ranged, 
 to his dismay, a long row of grinning human heads. A momentary 
 impulse urged him to inquire what they meant; but the sage's sec- 
 ond maxim " Ask only about what concerns thee " checked 
 him, and he continued in the steps of the stern man until he came 
 to an elegant chamber, where a supper was laid out. He was now 
 invited to sit, and presently there appeared to attend on him a beau- 
 tiful maiden, who was blind ; not by the decrees of nature, but evi- 
 dently by the violence of man. Radawan was now racked by intense 
 curiosity ; but he suppressed all outward sign of it, and ate and 
 drank with his host as if nothing remarkable had met his eyes. 
 Thus they passed an hour, after which Radawan spent the night 
 comfortably ; and, rising early next morning, prepared to depart. 
 
 As he was about to go, the master of the house called him back 
 and said, " Verily thou art a wise man ; and thy .wisdom hath saved 
 thy life. Know that all those heads which thou hast seen are the 
 heads of impertinent questioners, whom I received hospitably, and 
 who could not control their curiosity respecting the maiden with her 
 eyes put out. Thou shalt know all because thou hast been silent. That 
 maiden is my sister. I saw thee look with pity on her ; but if thou 
 knewest her horrible wickedness, thou wouldst loathe her and pity 
 me." Here the barber grew again tedious, in telling the story of 
 the blind maiden. It is too revolting for repetition. At its con- 
 clusion, the mysterious brother said : " Go now, Radawan ; and it 
 will be some comfort for thee to know without asking that which 
 thou shouldst have known if thou hadst asked, because, in this latter 
 case, after I had told my story, I would have slain thee without 
 hesitation." 
 
 Radawan accordingly went forth rejoicing from that house ; and, 
 turning to the East, he again blessed the Prophet, saying, " I thank- 
 thee, Prophet, (whose name be exalted,) for the wisdom thou hast 
 sent me by thy servant, Abou Kasim." 
 
 He then hastened to the city gates. They had long been open, 
 and a busy crowd were pouring in and out. His first thought was 
 to proceed at once to his own house ; but he reflected that possibly 
 great changes had taken place it might even be that Ayesha had 
 forgotten him, or, supposing him dead, had taken another husband. 
 So te first went to the shop of a barber in the neighborhood, and, 
 being much changed by travel, was not recognized. Here he man- 
 aged to draw the conversation, by degrees, to the subject that so 
 much interested him, and learned, to his great surprise, that his 
 absence had been unnecessary. The dead man that had frightened 
 him away was one of a band of robbers, who had been surprised by 
 
 

 
 302 THE DEALER IN WISDOM. 
 
 *_ 
 
 the guard, wounded and chased. Finding that he could not out- 
 strip his pursuers, he had been seen to turn into the first open door 
 that appeared ; and was supposed to have drawn the bolts, and then 
 gone to lie down and die in the court. 
 
 " However," added the barber, maliciously, "-the young wife of 
 the runaway was probably delighted with the accident. Radawan 
 was a pompous little fool, and must have teased her prodigiously. 
 I am told she has several admirers." 
 
 The barber would no doubt have said a great deal more ; but 
 Radawan, keeping his lips very close together, got up and walked 
 away. He next went into a coffee-house, where the master told 
 him that Ayesha was regularly visited by a lover ; that the death 
 of Radawan had been reported, and that a marriage would shortly 
 take place. The poor husband, all the while burning with love for 
 his plump little wife, was sorely perplexed by the idle stories, and 
 many others much worse; and seriously reflected whether it was 
 just in him to come to life again in that sudden manner. Having 
 meditated alone for an hour or so, he resolved to disguise himself as 
 a beggar, and thus penetrate into his own house. It was, perhaps, 
 inconsistent with his milder reflection, that he concealed a sword 
 under his rags ; but he determined not to use it, unless something 
 very abominable met his eye. In dilapidated garments he reached 
 the house, and managed to slip into the court, and up stairs into the 
 gallery, without being observed. Suddenly he heard a voice from a 
 dark room, saying, in a tender tone, " Wilt thou come back soon ? " 
 The only answer seemed to be a shower of kisses. The world became 
 black before Radawan's face. He laid his hand on the hilt of his 
 sword, and, really ferocious for the first time in his life, prepared 
 to rush in, and inflict summary vengeance. He had taken the 
 first step, when the third maxim came to his aid, " Think, before 
 acting ! " and he restrained himself.' Advancing cautiously, he 
 raised the corner of a curtain that covered the entrance of the room, 
 and looked in. At first he could see nothing ; but his eyes becom- 
 ing accustomed to the obscurity, he soon distinguished his wife, a 
 little less plump and a little paler than of old, sitting with her baby, 
 now a stout, sturdy fellow, on her lap, by the side of a black scaf- 
 folding which he knew represented his tomb. He rushed in, revealed 
 himself to his plump little Ayesha, and a medley of embracing, 
 dancing, laughing, crying, ensued, which it would be ridiculous to 
 attempt to describe. Ayesha held on by his shawl, that he might 
 kiss the chuckling boy for the fiftieth time. It was a scene of 
 intense joy. After the perpetration of a thousand absurdities, they 
 
THE KEY OF THE STREET. 303 
 
 were about to sit down to sup together, when Radawan turned his 
 face to the East, and said, 
 
 " I thank, thee, prophet, (whose name be exalted) for the wis-, 
 dom thou hast sent me by thy servant, Abou Kasim." 
 
 More kisses, more hugging of the boy ; and they sat down to sup. 
 Radawan broke the loaf given by Abou Kasim, and, lo ! precious 
 stones of immense value fell from it. 
 
 THE KEI Of Til STHiET, 
 
 
 IT is commonly asserted, and as commonly believed, that there 
 are seventy thousand persons in London who get up every morning 
 without the slightest knowledge as to where they shall lay their 
 heads at night. However the number may be over or under-stated, 
 it is very certain that a vast quantity of people are daily in the 
 above-mentioned uncertainty regarding sleeping accommodation, and 
 that when night approaches, a great majority solve the problem in 
 a somewhat (to themselves) disagreeable manner, by not going to 
 bed at all. 
 
 People who stop up, or out all night, may be divided into three 
 classes : First, editors, bakers, market-gardeners, and all those 
 who are kept out of their beds by business. Secondly, gentlemen and 
 " gents," anxious to cultivate a knowledge of the " lark " species, or 
 intent on the navigation of the " spree." Thirdly, and lastly, those 
 ladies and gentlemen who do not go to bed, for the very simple 
 reason that they have no beds to go to. 
 
 The members of this last class a very numerous one j are 
 said, facetiously, to possess " the key of the street." And a remark- 
 ably disagreeable key it is. It will unlock for you all manner of 
 caskets you would fain know nothing about. It is the "open 
 sesame " to dens you never saw before, and would much rather 
 never see again, a key to knowledge which would surely make 
 the learner a sadder man, if it make him not a wiser one. 
 
 Come with me, luxuriant tenant of heavy-draped four-poster 
 basker on feather bed, and nestler in lawn sheets. Come with me, 
 comfortable civic bolster-presser, snug woollen nightcap wearer. Come 
 with me, even workman, laborer, peasant sleeper on narrow pallet 
 
304 THE KEY OF THE STREET. 
 
 though your mattress be hard, and your rug coarse. Leave your 
 bed bad as it may be and gaze on those who have no beds at 
 all. Follow with me the veins and arteries of this huge giant 
 that lies a-sleeping. Listen while with " the key of the street " I 
 unlock the stony coffer, and bring forth the book, and from the 
 macadamized page read forth the lore of midnight London life. 
 
 I have no bed to-night. Why, it matters not. Perhaps I have 
 lost my latch-key, perhaps I never had one ; yet am fearful of 
 knocking up my landlady after midnight. Perhaps I have a caprice 
 
 a fancy for stopping up all night. At all events, I have no 
 bed ; and, saving ninepence, (sixpence in silver and threepence in 
 coppers,) no money. I must walk the streets all night ; for I can- 
 not, look you, get anything in the shape of a bed for less than a 
 shilling. Coffee-houses, into which seduced by their cheap ap- 
 pearance I have entered", and where I have humbly sought a 
 lodging, laugh my ninepence to scorn. They demand impossible 
 eighteen-pences unattainable shillings. There is clearly no bed 
 for me. 
 
 It is midnight so the clanging tongue of St. Dunstan tells me 
 
 as I stand thus, bedless, at Temple Bar. I have walked a good 
 deal during the day, and have an uncomfortable sensation in my 
 feet, suggesting the idea that the soles of my boots are made of 
 roasted brick-bats. I am thirsty, too, (it is July, and sultry,) and, 
 just as the last chime of St. Dunstan's is heard, I have half-a-pint 
 of porter and a ninth part of my ninepence is gone from me for- 
 
 %ver. The public house where I have it (or rather the beer-shop, 
 for it is an establishment of the "glass of ale and sandwich" 
 description) is an early-closing one ; and the proprietor, as he serves 
 me, yawningly orders the pot-boy to put up the shutters, for he is 
 "off to bed." Happy proprietor ! There is a bristly-bearded 
 tailor, too, very beery, having his last pint, who utters a similar 
 somniferous intention. He calls it "Bedfordshire." Thrice happy 
 tailor ! 
 
 I envy him fiercely as he goes out, though, God wot, his bed- 
 chamber may be but a squalid attic, and his bed a tattered hop-sack, 
 with a slop great-coat from the emporium of Messrs. Melchisidech 
 and Son, and which he has been working at all day for a cover- 
 lid. I envy his children, (I am sure he has a frouzy, ragged brood 
 of them,) for they have at least somewhere tq sleep; I haven't. 
 
 I watch, with a species of lazy curiosity, the whole process of 
 closing the " Original Burton Ale House," from the sudden shooting 
 up of the shutters, through the area grating, like gigantic Jacks-in- 
 a-box, to the final adjustment of screws and iron nuts. Then I bend 
 
THE KEY OF THE STREET. 305 
 
 my steps westward, and at the corner of Wellington street stop to 
 contemplate a cab-stand. 
 
 Cudgel thyself, weary brain, exhaust thyself, invention, tor- 
 ture thyself, ingenuity, all, and in vain, for the miserable acqui- 
 sition df six feet of mattress and a blanket ! 
 
 Had I the delightful impudence, now the calm audacity of 
 my friend, "Bolt, I should not be five minutes without a bed. Bolt, 
 I verily believe, would not have the slightest hesitation in walking 
 into the grandest hotel in Albermarle street or Jermyn street, asking 
 for supper and a bootjack, having his bed warmed, and would trust to 
 Providence and his happy knack of falling, like a cat, on all-fours, 
 for deliverance irt the morning. I could as soon imitate Bolt as I 
 could dance on the tight-rope. Spunge, again, that stern Jeremy 
 Diddler, who always bullies you when you relieve him, and whose 
 request for the loan of half-a-crown is more like a threat than a 
 petition Spunge, I say, would make a violent irruption into a 
 friend's room, and, if he did not turn him out of his bed, would at 
 least take possession of his sofa and his great-coats for the night, and 
 impetuously demand breakfast in the morning. If I were only 
 Spunge, now ! 
 
 What am I to do ? It's just a quarter past twelve ; how am I 
 to walk about till noon to-morrow ? Suppose I walk three miles an 
 hour, am I to walk thirty-five miles in these fearful London streets ? 
 Suppose it rains, can I stand under an archway for twelve hours ? . , 
 
 I have heard of the dark arches of the Adelphi, and of houseless 
 vagrants crouching there by night. But, then, I have read in 
 " Household Words " that, police constables are nightly enjoined by 
 their inspectors to rout out these vagrants, and drive them from 
 their squalid refuge. Then there are the dry arches of Waterloo 
 Bridge, and the railway arches ; but I abandon the idea of seeking 
 refuge there, for I am naturally timorous, *and I can't help thinking 
 of chloroform and life-preservers in connection with them. Though 
 I have little to be robbed of, Heaven knows. 
 
 I have heard, too, of tramps' lodging-houses, and of the " two- 
 penny rope." I am not prepared to state that I would not avail 
 myself of that species of accommodation, for I am getting terribly 
 tired and foot-sore. But I don't know where to seek for it, and I 
 am ashamed to ask. 
 
 I would give something to lie down, too. I wonder whether that 
 cabman would think it beneath his dignity to accept a pot of porter, 
 and allow me to repose in his vehicle till he got a fare ? I know 
 some of them never get one during the night, and I could snooze 
 comfortably in hackney-carriage two thousand and twenty-two. But 
 20 
 
306 THE KEY OF THE STREET. 
 
 I cannot form a favorable opinion of the driver, who is discussing 
 beer and blasphemy with the waterman ; and neither he nor any of 
 his brother Jehus, indeed, seem at all the persons to ask a favor of. 
 
 It is Opera night, as I learn from the accidentally-heard remark 
 of a passing policeman. To watch the departing equipages will, 
 surely, help to pass the time on bravely, and with something almost 
 like hope, I stroll to Covent Garden Theatre. 
 
 I am in the thick of it at once. Such a scrambling, pushing, 
 jostling, and shouting ! Such pawing of spirited horses, and objur- 
 gations of excited policemen ! Now, Mrs. Fitzsomebody's carriage 
 stops the way ; and now, Mr. Smith of the Stock Exchange, with 
 two ladies on each arm, stands bewildered in a chaos of carriages, 
 helplessly ejaculating " cab." Now is there a playful episode in the 
 shape of a policeman dodging a pickpocket among horses' heads, and 
 under wheels ; and now a pitiable one, in the person of an elderly 
 maiden lady, who has lost her party in the crush, and her shoe in 
 the mud, and is hopping about the piazza like an agonized sparrow. 
 
 It is all over soon, however. The carriages rattle, and the cabs 
 lumber away. The great city people, lords of Lombard-street, and 
 kaisers of Cornhill, depart in gorgeous chariots, emblazoned in front 
 and at the back. The dukes and marquises, and people of that sort, 
 glide away in tiny broughams, and infinitesimal clarences. The 
 highest personage of the land drives off in a plain chariot, with two 
 servants in plain black, more like a doctor (as I hear a gentleman 
 from the country near me indignantly exclaim) than a Queen. Mr. 
 Smith has found his party, and the sparrow-like lady her shoe, by 
 this time. Nearly everybody is gone. Stay, the gentleman who 
 thinks- it a " genteel " thing to go to the Opera, appears on the thresh- 
 old carefully adjusting his white neckcloth with the huge bow, and 
 donning a garment something between a smockfrock and a horse- 
 cloth, which is called, I believe, the " Opera envelope." He will 
 walk home to Camberwell with his lorgnette case in his hand, and 
 in white kid gloves, to let everybody know where he has been. The 
 policemen and the prostitutes will be edified no doubt. Following 
 him comes the habitub, who is a lover of music, I am sure. He 
 puts his gloves, neatly folded, into his breast-pocket, stows away his 
 opera-glass^ and buttons his coat. Then he goes quietly over to the 
 Albion, where I watch him gravely disposing of a pint of porter at 
 the bar. He is ten to one a gentleman : and I am sure he is a sen- 
 sible man. And now all, horse and foot, are departed ; the heavy 
 portals are closed, and the Koyal Italian Opera is left to the fire- 
 man, to darkness, and to me. 
 
 The bed question has enjoyed a temporary respite while these 
 
THE KEY OF THE STREET. 307 
 
 proceedings are taking place. Its discussion is postponed still fur- 
 ther by the amusement and instruction I derive from watching the 
 performances in the ham and beef shop at the corner of Bow street. 
 Here are crowds of customers, hot and hungry from the Lyceum or 
 Drury Lane, and clamorous for sandwiches. Ham sandwiches, beef 
 sandwiches, German sausage sandwiches legions of sandwiches are 
 cut and consumed. The cry is " mustard," and anon the coppers 
 rattle, and payment is tendered and change given. Then come the 
 people who carry home half a pound of " cold round " or three 
 pennyworth of " brisket ;" I scrutinized them, their purchases, and 
 their money. I watch the scale with rapt attention, and wait with 
 trembling eagerness the terrific combat between that last piece of 
 fat and the half ounce weight. The half ounce has it ; and the 
 beef merchant gives the meat a satisfied slap with the back of his 
 knife, and rattles the price triumphantly. I have been so intent 
 on all this, that I have taken no heed of time as yet ; so, when cus- 
 tom begins to flag, glancing at the clock, I am agreeably surprised 
 to find it is ten minutes past one. 
 
 A weary waste of hours yet to traverse the silence of the night 
 season yet to endure. There are mgny abroad still ; but the repu- 
 table wayfarers drop off gradually, and the disreputable ones increase 
 with alarming rapidity. The great-coated policeman, the shivering 
 Irish night prowlers, and some fleeting shadows that seem to be of 
 woman, have taken undisputed possession of Bow street and Long- 
 acre ; and but for a sprinkling of young thieves, and a few tipsy 
 bricklayers, would have it all their own way in Drury Lane. 
 
 I have wandered into this last-named unsavory thoroughfare, and 
 stand disconsolately surveying its aspect. And it strikes me now, 
 that it is eminently distinguished for its street-corners. There is 
 scarcely a soul to be seen in the street itself, but all the corners 
 have posts, and nearly all the posts are garnished with leaning 
 figures now two stalwart policemen holding municipal converse 
 now two women, God help them ! now a knot of lads with pale 
 faces, long greasy hair, and short pipes. Thieves, my friend 
 unmistakable thieves. 
 
 There are no professional beggars about what on earth is there 
 for them to be out for ? The beggees are gone home to their suj> 
 pers and their beds, and the beggars are gone home to their suppers 
 and their beds. They have all got beds, bless you ! 
 
 Some of the doorways have heaps of something huddled up within 
 them ; and ever and anon a policeman will come and stir them up 
 with his truncheon, or more probably with his boot. Then you will 
 see a chaotic movement of legs and arms, and hear a fretful croon- 
 
 . 
 
308 THE KEY OF THE STREET. 
 
 ing with an Irish accent. Should the guardian of the night insist 
 in the enforcement of his " move on " decree the legs and arms 
 will stagger a few paces onward, and, as soon as the policeman's back 
 is turned, sink into another doorway to be routed out perchance 
 again in another quarter of an hour by another truncheon or another 
 boot. 
 
 Half-past one by the clock of St. Mary-le-Strand, and I am in 
 Charles Street, Drury Lane. It is a very nasty, dirty little street 
 this full worthy, I take it, to challenge competition with Church 
 Lane or Buckeridge Street. Something, however, a feeling indefin- 
 able, but strong, prompts me to pursue its foul and devious course 
 for some score of yards. Then I stop. 
 
 " Lodgings for single men at fourpence per night." This agree- 
 able distich greets me, depictured on the panes of a window, behind 
 which a light is burning. I step into the road to have a good look 
 at the establishment that proffers the invitation. It is a villanous 
 ramshackle house a horrible cut-throat-looking den, to be sure : 
 but then the fourpence ! Think of that, Master Brooke ! There 
 is a profusion of handbills plastered on the door-jams, which I can 
 read by the light of a gas-lamp a few paces off. I decipher a flat- 
 tering legend of separate beds, every convenience for cooking, and 
 hot-water always ready. I am informed that this is the real model 
 lodging-house ; and I read, moreover, some derisive couplets relative 
 to the Great Spitalfields Lodging-house, which is styled a " Bastile." 
 I begin fingering, involuntarily, the eight-pence in my pocket. 
 Heaven knows what horrible company I may fall into ; but then, 
 fourpence ! and my feet are so tired. Jacta est alea, I will have 
 fourpenn ? orth. 
 
 That portion of the reading public who were on duty with In- 
 spector Field some weeks ago, know what the " deputy " of a tramps' 
 lodging-house is like. As, however, I come to sleep, and not to 
 inspect, I am not abused, but merely inspected and admitted. I am 
 informed that, with the addition my company will make, the estab- 
 lishment is full. I pay my fourpence, without the performance of 
 which ceremony I do not get beyond the filthy entrance passage. 
 Then the " deputy " bars the door, and, brandishing an iron candle- 
 stick as though it were a broad-sword, bids me follow him. 
 
 What makes me, when we have ascended the rotten staircase, 
 when I have entered my bedchamber when the "deputy "has 
 even bid me a wolfish good-night what makes me rush down 
 stairs, and, bursting through the passage, beg him to let me out 
 for Heaven's sake ? What makes me, when the " deputy " has 
 unbarred the door, and bade me go out, and be something'd, and has 
 
THE KEY OF THE STREET. 309 
 
 not given me back my fourpence, stand sick and stupefied in the 
 street, till I wake up to a disgusted consciousness, by being nearly 
 knocked down by a group of staggering roysterers, howling out a 
 drunken chorus ? 
 
 It was not the hang-dog looking of the " deputy " or the cut- 
 throat appearance of the house. It was not even the aspect of the 
 score or more ragged wretches who were to be my sleeping compan- 
 ions. It was, in plain English, the smell of the bugs. Ugh ! the 
 place was alive with. them. They crawled on the floor they 
 dropped from the ceiling they ran mad races on the walls. Give 
 me the key of the street, and let me wander forth again. 
 
 I have not got further than Broad street, St. Giles', however, be- 
 fore I begin to think that I have been a little hasty. I feel so 
 tired, so worn, so full of sleep now, that I can't help thinking I 
 might have fallen off into heavy sleep yonder, and that the havoc 
 committed by the bugs on my carcass might have been borne unfelt. 
 It is too late now, however. The fourpence has departed, and I dare 
 not face the deputy again. 
 
 Two in the morning, and still black, thick, impervious night, as I 
 turn into Oxford street, by Meux's Brewery. The flitting shad- 
 ows, that seem to be of women, have grown fewer. A quarter past 
 two, and I have gained the Regent Circus, and can take my choice, 
 either for a stroll in the neighborhood of the Regent's Park, or a 
 quiet lounge in the district of the clubs. I choose the latter and 
 shamble down Regent street towards Piccadilly. 
 
 I feel myself slowly, but surely, becoming more of a regular night 
 prowler a houseless, hopeless vagrant, every moment. I feel 
 my feet shuffle, my shoulders rise towards my ears ; my head goes 
 on one side ; I hold my hands in a crouching position before me ; I 
 no longer walk, I prowl. Though it is July, I shiver. As I stand 
 at the corner of Conduit street (all night prowlers affect corners), a 
 passing figure, in satin and black lace, flings me a penny. How 
 does the phantom know that I have got the key of the street ? I 
 am not in rags, and yet my plight must be evident. So I take the 
 penny. 
 
 Where are the policemen, I wonder. I am walking in the cen- 
 tre of the road, yet, from end to end of the magnificent street, I 
 cannot see a single soul. Stay, here is one. A little white-headed 
 ruffian leaps from the shadow of Archbishop Tenison's Chapel. 
 He has on a ragged pair of trousers, and nothing else to speak of. 
 He vehemently demands to be allowed to turn head over heels three 
 times for a penny. I give him the penny the phantom gave me 
 (cheap charity), and intimate that I can dispense with the tumbling. 
 
310 
 
 THE KEY OF THE STREET. 
 
 But he is too honest for that, and, putting the penny in his mouth, 
 disappears in a series of summersaults. Then the gas-lamps and I 
 have it all to ourselves. 
 
 Safe at the corners (corners again, you see) of what was once the 
 Quadrant, where a mongrel dog joins company. I know he is a dog 
 without a bed, like I am, for he has not that grave trot, so full of 
 purpose, which the dog on business has. This dog wanders irreso- 
 lutely, and makes feigned turnings up by-streets returning to the 
 main thoroughfare in a slouching skulking manner he ruminates 
 over cigar-stumps and cabbage-stalks, which no homeward-bound dog 
 would do. But even that dog is happier than I am, for he can lie 
 down on any doorstep, and take his rest, and no policeman shall say 
 him nay ; but the New Police Act won't let me do so, and says 
 sternly that I must " move on." 
 
 v Halloo ! a rattle in the distance nearer nearer louder and 
 louder ! Now it bursts upon my sight. A fire-engine at full speed ; 
 and the street is crowded in a moment ! 
 
 Where the people came from / don't pretend to say but there 
 they are hundreds of them, all wakeful and noisy, and clamorous. 
 On goes the engine with people hallooing, and following, and min- 
 gling with the night wind the dreadful cry of FIRE. 
 
 I follow of course. An engine at top speed is as potent a spell to 
 a night prowler, as a pack of hounds in full cry is to a Leicestershire 
 yeoman. Its influence is contagious too, and the crowd swells at 
 every yard of distance traversed. The fire is in a narrow street off 
 Soho, at a pickle-shop. It is a fierce one, at which I think the 
 crowd is pleased ; but then nobody lives in the house, at which I 
 imagine they are slightly chagrined ; for excitement, you see, at a 
 fire, i everything. jEn revanche there are no less than three fami- 
 lies of small children next door, and the crowd are hugely delighted 
 when they are expeditiously brought out in their night-dresses, by 
 the fire-brigade. 
 
 More excitement ! The house on the other side has caught fire. 
 The mob are in ecstasies, and the pickpockets make a simultaneous 
 onslaught on all the likely pockets near them. I am not pleased, 
 but interested highly interested. I would pump, but I am not 
 strong in the arms. Those who pump, I observe, get beer. 
 
 I have been watching the blazing pile so long basking, as it 
 were, in the noise and shouting and confusion ; the hoarse clank of 
 the engines the cheering of the crowd the dull roar of the fire, 
 that the bed question has been quite in abeyance, and I have forgot- 
 ten all about it and the time. But when the fire is quenched, or at 
 least brought under, as it is at last ; when the sheets of flame and 
 
THE KEY OF THE STREET. 311 
 
 sparks are succeeded by columns of smoke and steam ; when, as a 
 natural consequence, the excitement begins to flag a little, and the 
 pressure of the crowd diminishes; then, turning away from tho 
 charred and gutted pickle-shop, I hear the clock of St. Anne's, So- 
 ho, strike four, and find that it is broad daylight. 
 
 Four dreary hours yet to wander before a London day commences ; 
 four weary, dismal revolutions on the clock-face, before the milk-man 
 makes his rounds, and I can obtain access to my penates, with the 
 matutinal supply of milk ! 
 
 To add to my discomfort, the utter heart-weariness and list- 
 less misery which is slowly creeping over me, it begins to rain. Not 
 a sharp pelting shower, but a slow, monotonous, ill-conditioned driz- 
 zle ; damping without wetting now deluding you into the idea 
 that it is going to hold up, and now, with a sudden spirt in your face, 
 mockingly informing you that it has no intention of the kind. Very 
 wretchedly, indeed, I thread the narrow little streets about Soho, 
 meeting no one but a torn cat returning from his club, and a misan- 
 thropic looking policeman, who is feeling shutter-bolts and tugging 
 at door-handles with a vicious aspect, as though he were disappointed 
 that some unwary householder had not left a slight temptation for a 
 sharp house-breaker. 
 
 I meet another policeman in Golden square, who looks dull ; miss- 
 ing, probably, the society of the functionary who guards the fire- 
 escape situated in that fashionable locality, and who has n't come 
 back from the burnt pickle-shop yet. He honors me with a long 
 stare as I pass him. 
 
 " Good morning," he says. 
 
 I return the compliment. 
 
 " Going home to bed ? " he asks. 
 
 " Y-e-es," I answer. 
 
 He turns on his heel and says no more ; but, bless you ! I can see 
 irony in his bull's-eye contemptuous incredulity in his oil-skin 
 cape ! It needs not the long low whistle in which he indulges, to 
 tell me that he knows very well I have no bed to go home to. 
 
 I sneak quietly down Sherrard street into the Quadrant. I don't' 
 know why, but I begin to be afraid of policemen. I never trans- 
 gressed the law yet I avoid the "force." The sound of their 
 heavy boot-heels disquiets me. One of them stands at the door of 
 Messrs. Swan and Edgar's, and to avoid him I actually abandon a * 
 resolution I had formed of walking up Regent street, and turn down 
 the Haymarket instead. 
 
 There are three choice spirits who evidently have got beds to go 
 to though they are somewhat tardy in seeking them. I can tell 
 
312 THE KEY OF THE STREET. 
 
 that they have latch-keys, by their determined air their bold and 
 confident speech. They have just turned, or have been turned out 
 from an oyster-room. They are all three very drunk, have on each 
 other's hats, and one of them has a quantity of dressed lobster in 
 his cravat. 
 
 These promising gentlemen are " out on a spree." The doors 
 of the flash public-houses and oyster-rooms are letting out similar 
 detachments of choice spirits all down the Haymarket ; some of a 
 most patrician sort, with most fierce moustachios and whiskers; 
 whom I think I have seen before, and whom I may, very probably, 
 see again, in jack-boots and golden epaulettes, prancing on huge 
 black horses by the side of Her Majesty's carriage, going to open 
 Parliament. They call this " life." They will probably sleep in 
 the Station-house this morning, and will be fined various sums for 
 riotous conduct. They will get drunk, I dare say, three hundred 
 times in the course of a year, for about three years. In the last- 
 mentioned space of time they will bonnet many dozen policemen, 
 break some hundreds of gas-lamps, have some hundreds of " larks," 
 and scores of " rows." They will go to Epsom by the rail, and 
 create disturbances on the course, and among the sticks. They will 
 frequent the Adelphi at half-price, and haunt night-houses after- 
 wards. They will spend their salaries in debauchery, and obtain 
 fresh supplies of money from bill-discounters, and be swindled out 
 of it by the proprietors of betting-lists. Some day, when their 
 health and their money are gone when they are sued on all their 
 bills, and by all the tradesmen they have plundered they will be 
 discharged from their situations, or be discarded by their friends. 
 Then they will subside into Whitecross street and the Insolvent 
 Debtor's Court and then, God knows, they will die miserably, I 
 suppose : of delirium tremens, may be. 
 
 I have taken a fancy to have a stroll " save the mark ! " in 
 St. James' Park, and am about to descend the huge flight of stone 
 steps leading to the Mall, when I encounter a martial band, consist- 
 ing of a grenadier in a great-coat, and holding a lighted lantern (it 
 is light as noon-day), an officer in a cloak, and four or five more 
 grenadiers in great-coats, looking remarkably ridiculous in those 
 hideous gray garments. As to the officer, he appears to regard 
 everything with an air of unmitigated disgust, and to look at the 
 duty upon which he is engaged as a special bore. I regard it rather 
 in the light of a farce. Yet, if I mistake not, these are " Grand 
 Rounds," or something of the sort. When the officer gets within a 
 few yards of the sentinel, at the Duke of York's Column, he shouts 
 out some unintelligible question, to which the bearer of " Brown 
 
THE KEY OF THE STREET. 313 
 
 Bess" gives a responsive, but as unintelligible howl. Then the fore- 
 most grenadier plays in an imbecile manner with his lantern, like 
 King Lear with his straw, and the officer nourishes his sword ; and 
 " Grand Rounds" are over, as far as the Duke of York is concerned, 
 I suppose ; for the whole party trot gravely down Pall Mall, to- 
 wards the Duchess of Kent's. 
 
 I leave them to their devices, and saunter moodily into the Mall. 
 It is but a quarter to five, now ; and I am so jaded and tired that 
 I can scarcely drag one foot after another. The rain has ceased ; 
 but the morning air is raw and cold ;" and the rawness clings, as it 
 were, to the marrow of my bones. My hair is wet, and falls in 
 draggled hanks on my cheeks. My feet seem to have grown pre- 
 posterously large, and my boots as preposterously small. I wish I 
 was a dog or a dormouse ! I long for a haystack, or a heap of 
 sacks, or anything. I even think I could find repose on one of those 
 terrible inclined planes which you see tilted towards you through 
 the window of the Morgue at Paris. I have a good mind to smash 
 a lamp, and be taken to the Station-house. I have a good mind to 
 throw myself over Westminster bridge. I suppose I am afraid ; 
 for I don't do either. 
 
 Seeing a bench under a tree, I fling myself thereon ; and, hard 
 and full of knots and bumps as it is, roll myself into a species of 
 ball, and strive to go to sleep. But oh, vain delusion ! I am hor- 
 ribly, excruciatingly wakeful ! To make the matter worse, I get up, 
 and take a turn or two then I feel as though I could sleep stand- 
 ing ; but availing myself of what I consider a favorably drowsy mo* 
 ment, I cast myself on the bench again, and find myself as wakeful 
 as before ! 
 
 There is a young vagrant a tramp of some eighteen summers 
 sitting beside me fast asleep, and snoring with provoking per- 
 tinacity. He is half naked, and has neither shoes nor stockings. 
 Yet ne sleeps, and very soundly too, to all appearance. As the 
 loud-sounding Horse-*Guards clock strikes five, he wakes, eyes me 
 for a moment, and muttering " hard lines, mate," turns to sleep 
 again. In the mysterious free-masonry of misery, he calls me 
 " mate." I suppose, eventually, that I catch from him some portion 
 of his vagrant acquirement of somnolence under difficulties, for, after 
 writhing and turning on the comfortless wooden seat till every bone 
 and muscle are sore, I fall into a deep, deep sleep so deep it seems 
 like death. 
 
 So deep that I don't hear the quarters striking of that nuisance 
 to Park-sleepers, the Horse-G-uards clock and rise only, suddenly 
 en sursaut, as six o'clock strikes. My vagrant friend has departed, 
 
314 THE KEY OF THE STREET. 
 
 and being apprehensive myself of cross-examination from an ap- 
 proaching policeman (not knowing, in fact, what hideous crime sleep- 
 ing in St. James' Park might be) I also withdraw, feeling very 
 fagged and footsore yet slightly refreshed by the hour's nap I 
 have had. I pass the stands where the cows are milked, and curds 
 and whey dispensed, on summer evenings ; and enter Charing Cross 
 by the long Spring Garden passage. 
 
 I have been -apprized several times during the night that this was 
 a market-morning in Covent Garden. I have seen wagons, sur- 
 mounted by enormous mountains of vegetable-baskets, wending their 
 way through the silent streets. I have been met by the early cos- 
 termongers in their donkey-carts, and chaffed by the costerboys on 
 my forlorn appearance. But I have reserved Covent Garden as a 
 bonne louche a wind-up to my pilgrimage ; for I have heard and 
 read how fertile is the market in question in subjects of amusement 
 and contemplation. 
 
 I confess that I am disappointed. Covent Garden seems to me 
 to be but one great accumulation of cabbages. I am pelted with 
 these vegetables as they are thrown from the lofty summits of piled 
 wagons to costermongers standing at the base. I stumble among 
 them as I walk ; in short, above, below, on either side, cabbages 
 preponderate. 
 
 I dare say, had I patience, that I should see a great deal more ; 
 but I am dazed with cabbages, and jostled to and fro, and " danged " 
 dreadfully by rude market-gardeners so I eschew the market, and 
 creep round the piazza. 
 
 I meet my vagrant friend of the Park here, who is having a cheap 
 and nutritious breakfast at a coffee stall. The stall itself is a non- 
 descript species of edifice something between a gypsy's tent and a 
 watchman's box ; while, to carry out the comparison, as it were, the 
 lady who serves out the coffee very much resembles a gypsy in per- 
 son, and is clad in a decided watchman's coat. The aromatic bever- 
 age (if I may be allowed to give that name to the compound of burnt 
 beans, roasted horse-liver, and refuse chicory, of which the " coffee" 
 is composed) is poured, boiling hot, from a very cabalistic-looking 
 cauldron, into a whole regiment of cups and saucers standing near; 
 while, for more solid refection, the cups are flanked by plates bear- 
 ing massive piles of thick bread and butter, and an equivocal sub- 
 stance called " cake." Besides my friend, the vagrant, two coster- 
 lads are partaking of the hospitalities of the cafe ', and a huge gar- 
 dener, straddling over a pile of potato sacks, hard by, has provided 
 himself with bread and butter and coffee, from the same establish- 
 
THE KEY OF THE STREET. 315 
 
 ment, and is consuming them with such avidity that the tears start 
 from his eyes at every gulp. 
 
 I have, meanwhile, remembered the existence of a certain- four- 
 penny-piece in my pocket, and have been twice or thrice tempted to 
 expend it. Yet, on reflection, I deem it better to purchase with it 
 a regular breakfast, and to repair to a legitimate coffee-shop. The 
 day is, by this time, getting rapidly on, and something of the roar 
 of London begins to be heard in earnest. The dull murmur of 
 wheels has never ceased, indeed, the whole night through ; but now, 
 laden cabs come tearing past on their way to the railway station. 
 The night policemen gradually disappear, and sleepy potboys grad- 
 ually appear, yawning at the doors of public houses sleepy wait- 
 resses at the doors of coffee-houses and reading-rooms. There have 
 been both public-houses and coffee-shops open, however, the whole 
 night. The " Mohawks' Arms " in the market never closes. Young 
 Lord Stultus, with Captain Asinus of the Heavies, endeavored to 
 turn on all the taps there at four o'clock this morning, but, at the 
 earnest desire of Frume, the landlord, desisted ; and subsequently 
 subsided into a chivalrous offer of standing glasses of " Old Tom " 
 all round, which was as chivalrously accepted. As the " all round" 
 comprised some thirty ladies and gentlemen, Frume made a very 
 good thing of it ; and, like a prudent tradesman, as he is, he still 
 further acted on the golden opportunity, by giving all those mem- 
 bers of the company (about three fourths) who were drunk, glasses 
 of water instead of gin ; which operation contributed to discourage 
 intemperance, and improve his own exchequer in a very signal and 
 efficacious manner. As with the " Mohawks' Arms," so with the 
 " Turnip's Head," the great market gardeners' house, and the " Pipe 
 and Horse Collar," frequented by the night cabmen to say noth- 
 ing of that remarkably snug little house near Drury Lane, " The 
 Blue Bludgeon," which is well known to be the rendezvous of the 
 famous Tom Thug and his gang, whose recent achievements in the 
 strangling line by means of a silk handkerchief and a life-preserver, 
 used tourniquet fashion, have been so generally admired of late. I 
 peep into some of these noted hostelries as I saunter about. They 
 begin to get rather quiet and demure as the day advances, and will 
 be till midnight, indeed, very dull and drowsy pothouses, as times 
 go. They don't light up to life, and jollity, and robbery, and violence 
 before the small hours. 
 
 So with the coffee-shops. The one I enter, to invest my four- 
 pence in a breakfast of coffee and bread-and-butter, has been open 
 all night, likewise ; but the sole occupants now are a dirty waiter, 
 in a pitiable state of drowsiness, and half-a-dozen 4 of homeless 
 
316 THE KEY OF THE STREET. 
 
 wretches who have earned the privilege of sitting down at the filthy 
 tables by the purchase of a cup of coffee, and, with their heads on 
 their hands, are snatching furtive naps, cut short too short, alas ! 
 
 by the pokes and " Wake up, there ! " of the drowsy waiter. It 
 is apparently his " consigne" to allow no sleeping. 
 
 I sit down here, and endeavor to keep myself awake over the 
 columns of the "Sun" newspaper of last Tuesday week unsuc- 
 cessfully, however. I am so jaded and weary, so dog-tired and 
 utterly worn out, that I fall off again to sleep ; and whether it is 
 that the drowsy waiter has gone to sleep too, or that the expenditure 
 of fourpence secures exemption for me, I am allowed to slumber. 
 
 I dream this time. A dreadful vision it is, of bugs, and cab- 
 bages, and tramping soldiers, and anon of the fire at the pickle-shop. 
 As I wake, and find, to my great joy, that it is ten minutes past 
 eight o'clock, a ragged little news-boy brings in a damp copy of the 
 "Times," and I see half a column in that journal headed " Dreadful 
 Conflagration in Soho." 
 
 Were I not so tired, I should moralize over this, no doubt ; but 
 there are now but two things in my mind two things in the world 
 for me HOME and BED. Eight o'clock restores these both to me 
 
 so cruelly deprived of them for so long a time. So, just as Lon- 
 don work away, steady-going London begins to bestir itself, I 
 hurry across the Strand, cross the shadow of^the first omnibus going 
 towards the Bank ; and, as I sink between the sheets of my BED, 
 resign the key of the street into the hands of its proper custodian, 
 whoever he may be and, whoever he may be, I don't envy him. 
 
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 UNIVERSITY OF CAL1 
 BERKE1 
 
 Return to desk from 
 This book is DUE on the la 
 
 VIA LIBRARY 
 
 1953 
 
 LD 21-100m-7,'52(A2528sl6)476 
 
YE 13/00 
 
 M317470