—Pudd’nhead Wilson’s New Calendar.
Necessarily, the human interest is the first interest in the log-book of any country. The annals of Tasmania, in whose shadow we were sailing, are lurid1 with that feature. Tasmania was a convict-dump, in old times; this has been indicated in the account of the Conciliator, where reference is made to vain attempts of desperate convicts to win to permanent freedom, after escaping from Macquarrie Harbor and the “Gates of Hell.” In the early days Tasmania had a great population of convicts, of both sexes and all ages, and a bitter hard life they had. In one spot there was a settlement of juvenile2 convicts—children—who had been sent thither3 from their home and their friends on the other side of the globe to expiate4 their “crimes."
In due course our ship entered the estuary5 called the Derwent, at whose head stands Hobart, the capital of Tasmania. The Derwent’s shores furnish scenery of an interesting sort. The historian Laurie, whose book, “The Story of Australasia,” is just out, invoices6 its features with considerable truth and intemperance7: “The marvelous picturesqueness8 of every point of view, combined with the clear balmy atmosphere and the transparency of the ocean depths, must have delighted and deeply impressed” the early explorers. “If the rock-bound coasts, sullen9, defiant10, and lowering, seemed uninviting, these were occasionally broken into charmingly alluring11 coves12 floored with golden sand, clad with evergreen13 shrubbery, and adorned14 with every variety of indigenous15 wattle, she-oak, wild flower, and fern, from the delicately graceful16 ‘maiden-hair’ to the palm-like ‘old man’; while the majestic17 gum-tree, clean and smooth as the mast of ‘some tall ammiral’ pierces the clear air to the height of 230 feet or more.”
It looked so to me. “Coasting along Tasman’s Peninsula, what a shock of pleasant wonder must have struck the early mariner18 on suddenly sighting Cape19 Pillar, with its cluster of black-ribbed basaltic columns rising to a height of 900 feet, the hydra20 head wreathed in a turban of fleecy cloud, the base lashed21 by jealous waves spouting22 angry fountains of foam23.”
That is well enough, but I did not suppose those snags were 900 feet high. Still they were a very fine show. They stood boldly out by themselves, and made a fascinatingly odd spectacle. But there was nothing about their appearance to suggest the heads of a hydra. They looked like a row of lofty slabs24 with their upper ends tapered25 to the shape of a carving-knife point; in fact, the early voyager, ignorant of their great height, might have mistaken them for a rusty26 old rank of piles that had sagged27 this way and that out of the perpendicular28.
The Peninsula is lofty, rocky, and densely29 clothed with scrub, or brush, or both. It is joined to the main by a low neck. At this junction30 was formerly31 a convict station called Port Arthur—a place hard to escape from. Behind it was the wilderness32 of scrub, in which a fugitive33 would soon starve; in front was the narrow neck, with a cordon34 of chained dogs across it, and a line of lanterns, and a fence of living guards, armed. We saw the place as we swept by—that is, we had a glimpse of what we were told was the entrance to Port Arthur. The glimpse was worth something, as a remembrancer, but that was all.
The voyage thence up the Derwent Frith displays a grand succession of fairy visions, in its entire length elsewhere unequaled. In gliding35 over the deep blue sea studded with lovely islets luxuriant to the water’s edge, one is at a loss which scene to choose for contemplation and to admire most. When the Huon and Bruni have been passed, there seems no possible chance of a rival; but suddenly Mount Wellington, massive and noble like his brother Etna, literally36 heaves in sight, sternly guarded on either hand by Mounts Nelson and Rumney; presently we arrive at Sullivan’s Cove—Hobart!
It is an attractive town. It sits on low hills that slope to the harbor—a harbor that looks like a river, and is as smooth as one. Its still surface is pictured with dainty reflections of boats and grassy37 banks and luxuriant foliage38. Back of the town rise highlands that are clothed in woodland loveliness, and over the way is that noble mountain, Wellington, a stately bulk, a most majestic pile. How beautiful is the whole region, for form, and grouping, and opulence39, and freshness of foliage, and variety of color, and grace and shapeliness of the hills, the capes40, the promontories41; and then, the splendor42 of the sunlight, the dim rich distances, the charm of the water-glimpses! And it was in this paradise that the yellow-liveried convicts were landed, and the Corps-bandits quartered, and the wanton slaughter43 of the kangaroo-chasing black innocents consummated44 on that autumn day in May, in the brutish old time. It was all out of keeping with the place, a sort of bringing of heaven and hell together.
The remembrance of this paradise reminds me that it was at Hobart that we struck the head of the procession of Junior Englands. We were to encounter other sections of it in New Zealand, presently, and others later in Natal45. Wherever the exiled Englishman can find in his new home resemblances to his old one, he is touched to the marrow46 of his being; the love that is in his heart inspires his imagination, and these allied47 forces transfigure those resemblances into authentic48 duplicates of the revered49 originals. It is beautiful, the feeling which works this enchantment50, and it compels one’s homage51; compels it, and also compels one’s assent—compels it always—even when, as happens sometimes, one does not see the resemblances as clearly as does the exile who is pointing them out.
The resemblances do exist, it is quite true; and often they cunningly approximate the originals—but after all, in the matter of certain physical patent rights there is only one England. Now that I have sampled the globe, I am not in doubt. There is a beauty of Switzerland, and it is repeated in the glaciers52 and snowy ranges of many parts of the earth; there is a beauty of the fiord, and it is repeated in New Zealand and Alaska; there is a beauty of Hawaii, and it is repeated in ten thousand islands of the Southern seas; there is a beauty of the prairie and the plain, and it is repeated here and there in the earth; each of these is worshipful, each is perfect in its way, yet holds no monopoly of its beauty; but that beauty which is England is alone—it has no duplicate.
It is made up of very simple details—just grass, and trees, and shrubs53, and roads, and hedges, and gardens, and houses, and vines, and churches, and castles, and here and there a ruin—and over it all a mellow54 dream-haze of history. But its beauty is incomparable, and all its own.
Hobart has a peculiarity—it is the neatest town that the sun shines on; and I incline to believe that it is also the cleanest. However that may be, its supremacy55 in neatness is not to be questioned. There cannot be another town in the world that has no shabby exteriors56; no rickety gates and fences, no neglected houses crumbling57 to ruin, no crazy and unsightly sheds, no weed-grown front-yards of the poor, no back-yards littered with tin cans and old boots and empty bottles, no rubbish in the gutters58, no clutter59 on the sidewalks, no outer-borders fraying60 out into dirty lanes and tin-patched huts. No, in Hobart all the aspects are tidy, and all a comfort to the eye; the modestest cottage looks combed and brushed, and has its vines, its flowers, its neat fence, its neat gate, its comely61 cat asleep on the window ledge62.
We had a glimpse of the museum, by courtesy of the American gentleman who is curator of it. It has samples of half-a-dozen different kinds of marsupials—[A marsupial63 is a plantigrade vertebrate whose specialty64 is its pocket. In some countries it is extinct, in the others it is rare. The first American marsupials were Stephen Girard, Mr. Astor and the opossum; the principal marsupials of the Southern Hemisphere are Mr. Rhodes, and the kangaroo. I, myself, am the latest marsupial. Also, I might boast that I have the largest pocket of them all. But there is nothing in that.]—one, the “Tasmanian devil;” that is, I think he was one of them. And there was a fish with lungs. When the water dries up it can live in the mud. Most curious of all was a parrot that kills sheep. On one great sheep-run this bird killed a thousand sheep in a whole year. He doesn’t want the whole sheep, but only the kidney-fat. This restricted taste makes him an expensive bird to support. To get the fat he drives his beak65 in and rips it out; the wound is mortal. This parrot furnishes a notable example of evolution brought about by changed conditions. When the sheep culture was introduced, it presently brought famine to the parrot by exterminating66 a kind of grub which had always thitherto been the parrot’s diet. The miseries67 of hunger made the bird willing to eat raw flesh, since it could get no other food, and it began to pick remnants of meat from sheep skins hung out on the fences to dry. It soon came to prefer sheep meat to any other food, and by and by it came to prefer the kidney-fat to any other detail of the sheep. The parrot’s bill was not well shaped for digging out the fat, but Nature fixed68 that matter; she altered the bill’s shape, and now the parrot can dig out kidney-fat better than the Chief Justice of the Supreme69 Court, or anybody else, for that matter—even an Admiral.
And there was another curiosity—quite a stunning70 one, I thought: Arrow-heads and knives just like those which Primeval Man made out of flint, and thought he had done such a wonderful thing—yes, and has been humored and coddled in that superstition71 by this age of admiring scientists until there is probably no living with him in the other world by now. Yet here is his finest and nicest work exactly duplicated in our day; and by people who have never heard of him or his works: by aborigines who lived in the islands of these seas, within our time. And they not only duplicated those works of art but did it in the brittlest72 and most treacherous73 of substances—glass: made them out of old brandy bottles flung out of the British camps; millions of tons of them. It is time for Primeval Man to make a little less noise, now. He has had his day. He is not what he used to be. We had a drive through a bloomy and odorous fairy-land, to the Refuge for the Indigent—a spacious74 and comfortable home, with hospitals, etc., for both sexes. There was a crowd in there, of the oldest people I have ever seen. It was like being suddenly set down in a new world—a weird75 world where Youth has never been, a world sacred to Age, and bowed forms, and wrinkles. Out of the 359 persons present, 223 were ex-convicts, and could have told stirring tales, no doubt, if they had been minded to talk; 42 of the 359 were past 80, and several were close upon 90; the average age at death there is 76 years. As for me, I have no use for that place; it is too healthy. Seventy is old enough—after that, there is too much risk. Youth and gaiety might vanish, any day—and then, what is left? Death in life; death without its privileges, death without its benefits. There were 185 women in that Refuge, and 81 of them were ex-convicts.
The steamer disappointed us. Instead of making a long visit at Hobart, as usual, she made a short one. So we got but a glimpse of Tasmania, and then moved on.
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1
lurid
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| adj.可怕的；血红的；苍白的 | |
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juvenile
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| n.青少年，少年读物；adj.青少年的，幼稚的 | |
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thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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expiate
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| v.抵补，赎罪 | |
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estuary
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| n.河口，江口 | |
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invoices
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| 发票( invoice的名词复数 )； （发货或服务）费用清单； 清单上货物的装运； 货物的托运 | |
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intemperance
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| n.放纵 | |
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picturesqueness
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sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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alluring
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| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
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coves
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| n.小海湾( cove的名词复数 )；家伙 | |
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evergreen
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| n.常青树；adj.四季常青的 | |
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adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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indigenous
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| adj.土产的，土生土长的，本地的 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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18
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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cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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hydra
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| n.水螅；难于根除的祸患 | |
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lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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spouting
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| n.水落管系统v.（指液体）喷出( spout的现在分词 )；滔滔不绝地讲；喋喋不休地说；喷水 | |
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foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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slabs
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| n.厚板，平板，厚片( slab的名词复数 )；厚胶片 | |
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tapered
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| adj. 锥形的，尖削的，楔形的，渐缩的，斜的 动词taper的过去式和过去分词 | |
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rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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sagged
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| 下垂的 | |
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perpendicular
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| adj.垂直的，直立的；n.垂直线，垂直的位置 | |
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densely
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| ad.密集地；浓厚地 | |
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junction
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| n.连接，接合；交叉点，接合处，枢纽站 | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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fugitive
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| adj.逃亡的，易逝的；n.逃犯，逃亡者 | |
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cordon
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| n.警戒线，哨兵线 | |
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gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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opulence
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| n.财富，富裕 | |
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capes
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| 碎谷； 斗篷( cape的名词复数 )； 披肩； 海角； 岬 | |
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promontories
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| n.岬，隆起，海角( promontory的名词复数 ) | |
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splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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44
consummated
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| v.使结束( consummate的过去式和过去分词 )；使完美；完婚；（婚礼后的）圆房 | |
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45
natal
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| adj.出生的，先天的 | |
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46
marrow
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| n.骨髓；精华；活力 | |
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allied
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| adj.协约国的；同盟国的 | |
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48
authentic
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| a.真的，真正的；可靠的，可信的，有根据的 | |
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49
revered
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| v.崇敬，尊崇，敬畏( revere的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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50
enchantment
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| n.迷惑，妖术，魅力 | |
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51
homage
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| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
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52
glaciers
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| 冰河，冰川( glacier的名词复数 ) | |
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53
shrubs
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| 灌木( shrub的名词复数 ) | |
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54
mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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55
supremacy
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| n.至上；至高权力 | |
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56
exteriors
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| n.外面( exterior的名词复数 )；外貌；户外景色图 | |
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57
crumbling
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| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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58
gutters
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| （路边）排水沟( gutter的名词复数 )； 阴沟； （屋顶的）天沟； 贫贱的境地 | |
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clutter
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| n.零乱，杂乱；vt.弄乱，把…弄得杂乱 | |
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60
fraying
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| v.（使布、绳等）磨损，磨破( fray的现在分词 ) | |
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comely
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| adj.漂亮的，合宜的 | |
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ledge
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| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
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marsupial
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| adj.有袋的，袋状的 | |
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specialty
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| n.(speciality)特性，特质；专业，专长 | |
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beak
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| n.鸟嘴，茶壶嘴，钩形鼻 | |
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exterminating
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| v.消灭，根绝( exterminate的现在分词 ) | |
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miseries
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| n.痛苦( misery的名词复数 )；痛苦的事；穷困；常发牢骚的人 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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70
stunning
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| adj.极好的；使人晕倒的 | |
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superstition
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| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
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72
brittlest
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| brittle（易碎的）的最高级形式 | |
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treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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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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