—Pudd’nhead Wilson’s New Calendar.
Sept. 15—Night. Close to Australia now. Sydney 50 miles distant.
That note recalls an experience. The passengers were sent for, to come up in the bow and see a fine sight. It was very dark. One could not follow with the eye the surface of the sea more than fifty yards in any direction it dimmed away and became lost to sight at about that distance from us. But if you patiently gazed into the darkness a little while, there was a sure reward for you. Presently, a quarter of a mile away you would see a blinding splash or explosion of light on the water—a flash so sudden and so astonishingly brilliant that it would make you catch your breath; then that blotch1 of light would instantly extend itself and take the corkscrew shape and imposing2 length of the fabled3 sea-serpent, with every curve of its body and the “break” spreading away from its head, and the wake following behind its tail clothed in a fierce splendor4 of living fire. And my, but it was coming at a lightning gait! Almost before you could think, this monster of light, fifty feet long, would go flaming and storming by, and suddenly disappear. And out in the distance whence he came you would see another flash; and another and another and another, and see them turn into sea-serpents on the instant; and once sixteen flashed up at the same time and came tearing towards us, a swarm5 of wiggling curves, a moving conflagration6, a vision of bewildering beauty, a spectacle of fire and energy whose equal the most of those people will not see again until after they are dead.
It was porpoises7—porpoises aglow9 with phosphorescent light. They presently collected in a wild and magnificent jumble10 under the bows, and there they played for an hour, leaping and frollicking and carrying on, turning summersaults in front of the stem or across it and never getting hit, never making a miscalculation, though the stem missed them only about an inch, as a rule. They were porpoises of the ordinary length—eight or ten feet—but every twist of their bodies sent a long procession of united and glowing curves astern. That fiery11 jumble was an enchanting12 thing to look at, and we stayed out the performance; one cannot have such a show as that twice in a lifetime. The porpoise8 is the kitten of the sea; he never has a serious thought, he cares for nothing but fun and play. But I think I never saw him at his winsomest until that night. It was near a center of civilization, and he could have been drinking.
By and by, when we had approached to somewhere within thirty miles of Sydney Heads the great electric light that is posted on one of those lofty ramparts began to show, and in time the little spark grew to a great sun and pierced the firmament14 of darkness with a far-reaching sword of light.
Sydney Harbor is shut in behind a precipice15 that extends some miles like a wall, and exhibits no break to the ignorant stranger. It has a break in the middle, but it makes so little show that even Captain Cook sailed by it without seeing it. Near by that break is a false break which resembles it, and which used to make trouble for the mariner16 at night, in the early days before the place was lighted. It caused the memorable17 disaster to the Duncan Dunbar, one of the most pathetic tragedies in the history of that pitiless ruffian, the sea. The ship was a sailing vessel18; a fine and favorite passenger packet, commanded by a popular captain of high reputation. She was due from England, and Sydney was waiting, and counting the hours; counting the hours, and making ready to give her a heart-stirring welcome; for she was bringing back a great company of mothers and daughters, the long-missed light and bloom of life of Sydney homes; daughters that had been years absent at school, and mothers that had been with them all that time watching over them. Of all the world only India and Australasia have by custom freighted ships and fleets with their hearts, and know the tremendous meaning of that phrase; only they know what the waiting is like when this freightage is entrusted19 to the fickle20 winds, not steam, and what the joy is like when the ship that is returning this treasure comes safe to port and the long dread21 is over.
On board the Duncan Dunbar, flying toward Sydney Heads in the waning22 afternoon, the happy home-comers made busy preparation, for it was not doubted that they would be in the arms of their friends before the day was done; they put away their sea-going clothes and put on clothes meeter for the meeting, their richest and their loveliest, these poor brides of the grave. But the wind lost force, or there was a miscalculation, and before the Heads were sighted the darkness came on. It was said that ordinarily the captain would have made a safe offing and waited for the morning; but this was no ordinary occasion; all about him were appealing faces, faces pathetic with disappointment. So his sympathy moved him to try the dangerous passage in the dark. He had entered the Heads seventeen times, and believed he knew the ground. So he steered23 straight for the false opening, mistaking it for the true one. He did not find out that he was wrong until it was too late. There was no saving the ship. The great seas swept her in and crushed her to splinters and rubbish upon the rock tushes at the base of the precipice. Not one of all that fair and gracious company was ever seen again alive. The tale is told to every stranger that passes the spot, and it will continue to be told to all that come, for generations; but it will never grow old, custom cannot stale it, the heart-break that is in it can never perish out of it.
There were two hundred persons in the ship, and but one survived the disaster. He was a sailor. A huge sea flung him up the face of the precipice and stretched him on a narrow shelf of rock midway between the top and the bottom, and there he lay all night. At any other time he would have lain there for the rest of his life, without chance of discovery; but the next morning the ghastly news swept through Sydney that the Duncan Dunbar had gone down in sight of home, and straightway the walls of the Heads were black with mourners; and one of these, stretching himself out over the precipice to spy out what might be seen below, discovered this miraculously24 preserved relic25 of the wreck26. Ropes were brought and the nearly impossible feat27 of rescuing the man was accomplished28. He was a person with a practical turn of mind, and he hired a hall in Sydney and exhibited himself at sixpence a head till he exhausted29 the output of the gold fields for that year.
We entered and cast anchor, and in the morning went oh-ing and ah-ing in admiration30 up through the crooks31 and turns of the spacious32 and beautiful harbor—a harbor which is the darling of Sydney and the wonder of the world. It is not surprising that the people are proud of it, nor that they put their enthusiasm into eloquent33 words. A returning citizen asked me what I thought of it, and I testified with a cordiality which I judged would be up to the market rate. I said it was beautiful—superbly beautiful. Then by a natural impulse I gave God the praise. The citizen did not seem altogether satisfied. He said:
“It is beautiful, of course it’s beautiful—the Harbor; but that isn’t all of it, it’s only half of it; Sydney’s the other half, and it takes both of them together to ring the supremacy-bell. God made the Harbor, and that’s all right; but Satan made Sydney.”
Of course I made an apology; and asked him to convey it to his friend. He was right about Sydney being half of it. It would be beautiful without Sydney, but not above half as beautiful as it is now, with Sydney added. It is shaped somewhat like an oak-leaf—a roomy sheet of lovely blue water, with narrow off-shoots of water running up into the country on both sides between long fingers of land, high wooden ridges34 with sides sloped like graves. Handsome villas35 are perched here and there on these ridges, snuggling amongst the foliage36, and one catches alluring37 glimpses of them as the ship swims by toward the city. The city clothes a cluster of hills and a ruffle38 of neighboring ridges with its undulating masses of masonry39, and out of these masses spring towers and spires40 and other architectural dignities and grandeurs that break the flowing lines and give picturesqueness41 to the general effect.
The narrow inlets which I have mentioned go wandering out into the land everywhere and hiding themselves in it, and pleasure-launches are always exploring them with picnic parties on board. It is said by trustworthy people that if you explore them all you will find that you have covered 700 miles of water passage. But there are liars42 everywhere this year, and they will double that when their works are in good going order. October was close at hand, spring was come. It was really spring—everybody said so; but you could have sold it for summer in Canada, and nobody would have suspected. It was the very weather that makes our home summers the perfection of climatic luxury; I mean, when you are out in the wood or by the sea. But these people said it was cool, now—a person ought to see Sydney in the summer time if he wanted to know what warm weather is; and he ought to go north ten or fifteen hundred miles if he wanted to know what hot weather is. They said that away up there toward the equator the hens laid fried eggs. Sydney is the place to go to get information about other people’s climates. It seems to me that the occupation of Unbiased Traveler Seeking Information is the pleasantest and most irresponsible trade there is. The traveler can always find out anything he wants to, merely by asking. He can get at all the facts, and more. Everybody helps him, nobody hinders him. Anybody who has an old fact in stock that is no longer negotiable in the domestic market will let him have it at his own price. An accumulation of such goods is easily and quickly made. They cost almost nothing and they bring par13 in the foreign market. Travelers who come to America always freight up with the same old nursery tales that their predecessors43 selected, and they carry them back and always work them off without any trouble in the home market.
If the climates of the world were determined44 by parallels of latitude45, then we could know a place’s climate by its position on the map; and so we should know that the climate of Sydney was the counterpart of the climate of Columbia, S. C., and of Little Rock, Arkansas, since Sydney is about the same distance south of the equator that those other towns are north of it—thirty-four degrees. But no, climate disregards the parallels of latitude. In Arkansas they have a winter; in Sydney they have the name of it, but not the thing itself. I have seen the ice in the Mississippi floating past the mouth of the Arkansas river; and at Memphis, but a little way above, the Mississippi has been frozen over, from bank to bank. But they have never had a cold spell in Sydney which brought the mercury down to freezing point. Once in a mid-winter day there, in the month of July, the mercury went down to 36 deg., and that remains46 the memorable “cold day” in the history of the town. No doubt Little Rock has seen it below zero. Once, in Sydney, in mid-summer, about New Year’s Day, the mercury went up to 106 deg. in the shade, and that is Sydney’s memorable hot day. That would about tally47 with Little Rock’s hottest day also, I imagine. My Sydney figures are taken from a government report, and are trustworthy. In the matter of summer weather Arkansas has no advantage over Sydney, perhaps, but when it comes to winter weather, that is another affair. You could cut up an Arkansas winter into a hundred Sydney winters and have enough left for Arkansas and the poor.
The whole narrow, hilly belt of the Pacific side of New South Wales has the climate of its capital—a mean winter temperature of 54 deg. and a mean summer one of 71 deg. It is a climate which cannot be improved upon for healthfulness. But the experts say that 90 deg. in New South Wales is harder to bear than 112 deg. in the neighboring colony of Victoria, because the atmosphere of the former is humid, and of the latter dry. The mean temperature of the southernmost point of New South Wales is the same as that of Nice—60 deg.—yet Nice is further from the equator by 460 miles than is the former.
But Nature is always stingy of perfect climates; stingier in the case of Australia than usual. Apparently48 this vast continent has a really good climate nowhere but around the edges.
If we look at a map of the world we are surprised to see how big Australia is. It is about two-thirds as large as the United States was before we added Alaska.
But where as one finds a sufficiently49 good climate and fertile land almost everywhere in the United States, it seems settled that inside of the Australian border-belt one finds many deserts and in spots a climate which nothing can stand except a few of the hardier50 kinds of rocks. In effect, Australia is as yet unoccupied. If you take a map of the United States and leave the Atlantic sea-board States in their places; also the fringe of Southern States from Florida west to the Mouth of the Mississippi; also a narrow, inhabited streak51 up the Mississippi half-way to its head waters; also a narrow, inhabited border along the Pacific coast: then take a brushful of paint and obliterate52 the whole remaining mighty53 stretch of country that lies between the Atlantic States and the Pacific-coast strip, your map will look like the latest map of Australia.
This stupendous blank is hot, not to say torrid; a part of it is fertile, the rest is desert; it is not liberally watered; it has no towns. One has only to cross the mountains of New South Wales and descend54 into the westward-lying regions to find that he has left the choice climate behind him, and found a new one of a quite different character. In fact, he would not know by the thermometer that he was not in the blistering55 Plains of India. Captain Sturt, the great explorer, gives us a sample of the heat.
“The wind, which had been blowing all the morning from the N.E., increased to a heavy gale56, and I shall never forget its withering57 effect. I sought shelter behind a large gum-tree, but the blasts of heat were so terrific that I wondered the very grass did not take fire. This really was nothing ideal: everything both animate58 and inanimate gave way before it; the horses stood with their backs to the wind and their noses to the ground, without the muscular strength to raise their heads; the birds were mute, and the leaves of the trees under which we were sitting fell like a snow shower around us. At noon I took a thermometer graded to 127 deg., out of my box, and observed that the mercury was up to 125. Thinking that it had been unduly59 influenced, I put it in the fork of a tree close to me, sheltered alike from the wind and the sun. I went to examine it about an hour afterwards, when I found the mercury had risen to the-top of the instrument and had burst the bulb, a circumstance that I believe no traveler has ever before had to record. I cannot find language to convey to the reader’s mind an idea of the intense and oppressive nature of the heat that prevailed.”
That hot wind sweeps over Sydney sometimes, and brings with it what is called a “dust-storm.” It is said that most Australian towns are acquainted with the dust-storm. I think I know what it is like, for the following description by Mr. Gape60 tallies61 very well with the alkali duststorm of Nevada, if you leave out the “shovel62” part. Still the shovel part is a pretty important part, and seems to indicate that my Nevada storm is but a poor thing, after all.
“As we proceeded the altitude became less, and the heat proportionately greater until we reached Dubbo, which is only 600 feet above sea-level. It is a pretty town, built on an extensive plain . . . . After the effects of a shower of rain have passed away the surface of the ground crumbles63 into a thick layer of dust, and occasionally, when the wind is in a particular quarter, it is lifted bodily from the ground in one long opaque64 cloud. In the midst of such a storm nothing can be seen a few yards ahead, and the unlucky person who happens to be out at the time is compelled to seek the nearest retreat at hand. When the thrifty65 housewife sees in the distance the dark column advancing in a steady whirl towards her house, she closes the doors and windows with all expedition. A drawing-room, the window of which has been carelessly left open during a dust-storm, is indeed an extraordinary sight. A lady who has resided in Dubbo for some years says that the dust lies so thick on the carpet that it is necessary to use a shovel to remove it.”
And probably a wagon66. I was mistaken; I have not seen a proper duststorm. To my mind the exterior67 aspects and character of Australia are fascinating things to look at and think about, they are so strange, so weird68, so new, so uncommonplace, such a startling and interesting contrast to the other sections of the planet, the sections that are known to us all, familiar to us all. In the matter of particulars—a detail here, a detail there—we have had the choice climate of New South Wales’ seacoast; we have had the Australian heat as furnished by Captain Sturt; we have had the wonderful dust-storm; and we have considered the phenomenon of an almost empty hot wilderness69 half as big as the United States, with a narrow belt of civilization, population, and good climate around it.
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1
blotch
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| n.大斑点；红斑点；v.使沾上污渍，弄脏 | |
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imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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fabled
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| adj.寓言中的，虚构的 | |
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splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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swarm
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| n.(昆虫)等一大群；vi.成群飞舞；蜂拥而入 | |
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conflagration
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| n.建筑物或森林大火 | |
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porpoises
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| n.鼠海豚( porpoise的名词复数 ) | |
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porpoise
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| n.鼠海豚 | |
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aglow
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| adj.发亮的；发红的；adv.发亮地 | |
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jumble
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| vt.使混乱，混杂；n.混乱；杂乱的一堆 | |
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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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enchanting
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| a.讨人喜欢的 | |
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par
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| n.标准，票面价值，平均数量；adj.票面的，平常的，标准的 | |
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firmament
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| n.苍穹；最高层 | |
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precipice
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| n.悬崖，危急的处境 | |
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mariner
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| n.水手号不载人航天探测器，海员，航海者 | |
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memorable
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| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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entrusted
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| v.委托，托付( entrust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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fickle
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| adj.(爱情或友谊上)易变的，不坚定的 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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waning
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| adj.（月亮）渐亏的，逐渐减弱或变小的n.月亏v.衰落( wane的现在分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
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23
steered
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| v.驾驶( steer的过去式和过去分词 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
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miraculously
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| ad.奇迹般地 | |
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relic
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| n.神圣的遗物，遗迹，纪念物 | |
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wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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feat
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| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
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accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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crooks
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| n.骗子( crook的名词复数 )；罪犯；弯曲部分；（牧羊人或主教用的）弯拐杖v.弯成钩形( crook的第三人称单数 ) | |
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spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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ridges
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| n.脊( ridge的名词复数 )；山脊；脊状突起；大气层的)高压脊 | |
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villas
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| 别墅，公馆( villa的名词复数 )； （城郊）住宅 | |
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foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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alluring
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| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
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ruffle
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| v.弄皱，弄乱；激怒，扰乱；n.褶裥饰边 | |
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masonry
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| n.砖土建筑；砖石 | |
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spires
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| n.（教堂的） 塔尖，尖顶( spire的名词复数 ) | |
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picturesqueness
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liars
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| 说谎者( liar的名词复数 ) | |
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predecessors
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| n.前任( predecessor的名词复数 )；前辈；（被取代的）原有事物；前身 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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45
latitude
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| n.纬度，行动或言论的自由(范围)，(pl.)地区 | |
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46
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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47
tally
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| n.计数器，记分，一致，测量；vt.计算，记录，使一致；vi.计算，记分，一致 | |
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48
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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49
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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50
hardier
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| 能吃苦耐劳的，坚强的( hardy的比较级 )； （植物等）耐寒的 | |
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51
streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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52
obliterate
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| v.擦去，涂抹，去掉...痕迹，消失，除去 | |
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53
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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54
descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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55
blistering
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| adj.酷热的；猛烈的；使起疱的；可恶的v.起水疱；起气泡；使受暴晒n.[涂料] 起泡 | |
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56
gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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57
withering
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| 使人畏缩的，使人害羞的，使人难堪的 | |
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animate
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| v.赋于生命，鼓励；adj.有生命的，有生气的 | |
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unduly
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| adv.过度地，不适当地 | |
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60
gape
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| v.张口，打呵欠，目瞪口呆地凝视 | |
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61
tallies
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| n.账( tally的名词复数 )；符合；（计数的）签；标签v.计算，清点( tally的第三人称单数 )；加标签（或标记）于；（使）符合；（使）吻合 | |
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62
shovel
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| n.铁锨，铲子，一铲之量；v.铲，铲出 | |
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63
crumbles
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| 酥皮水果甜点( crumble的名词复数 ) | |
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opaque
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| adj.不透光的；不反光的，不传导的；晦涩的 | |
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65
thrifty
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| adj.节俭的；兴旺的；健壮的 | |
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66
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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67
exterior
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| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
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68
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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69
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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