CHAPTER XVIII.

It is easier to stay out than get out.

--Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.

The train was now exploring a beautiful hill country, and went twisting

in and out through lovely little green valleys. There were several

varieties of gum trees; among them many giants. Some of them were bodied

and barked like the sycamore; some were of fantastic aspect, and reminded

one of the quaint apple trees in Japanese pictures. And there was one

peculiarly beautiful tree whose name and breed I did not know. The

foliage seemed to consist of big bunches of pine-spines, the lower half

of each bunch a rich brown or old-gold color, the upper half a most vivid

and strenuous and shouting green. The effect was altogether bewitching.

The tree was apparently rare. I should say that the first and last

samples of it seen by us were not more than half an hour apart. There

was another tree of striking aspect, a kind of pine, we were told. Its

foliage was as fine as hair, apparently, and its mass sphered itself

above the naked straight stem like an explosion of misty smoke. It was

not a sociable sort; it did not gather in groups or couples, but each

individual stood far away from its nearest neighbor. It scattered itself

in this spacious and exclusive fashion about the slopes of swelling

grassy great knolls, and stood in the full flood of the wonderful

sunshine; and as far as you could see the tree itself you could also see

the ink-black blot of its shadow on the shining green carpet at its feet.

On some part of this railway journey we saw gorse and broom--importations

from England--and a gentleman who came into our compartment on a visit

tried to tell me which--was which; but as he didn't know, he had

difficulty. He said he was ashamed of his ignorance, but that he had

never been confronted with the question before during the fifty years and

more that he had spent in Australia, and so he had never happened to get

interested in the matter. But there was no need to be ashamed. The most

of us have his defect. We take a natural interest in novelties, but it

is against nature to take an interest in familiar things. The gorse and

the broom were a fine accent in the landscape. Here and there they burst

out in sudden conflagrations of vivid yellow against a background of

sober or sombre color, with a so startling effect as to make a body catch

his breath with the happy surprise of it. And then there was the wattle,

a native bush or tree, an inspiring cloud of sumptuous yellow bloom. It

is a favorite with the Australians, and has a fine fragrance, a quality

usually wanting in Australian blossoms.

The gentleman who enriched me with the poverty of his formation about the

gorse and the broom told me that he came out from England a youth of

twenty and entered the Province of South Australia with thirty-six

shillings in his pocket--an adventurer without trade, profession, or

friends, but with a clearly-defined purpose in his head: he would stay

until he was worth L200, then go back home. He would allow himself five

years for the accumulation of this fortune.

"That was more than fifty years ago," said he. "And here I am, yet."

As he went out at the door he met a friend, and turned and introduced him

to me, and the friend and I had a talk and a smoke. I spoke of the

previous conversation and said there something very pathetic about this

half century of exile, and that I wished the L200 scheme had succeeded.

"With him? Oh, it did. It's not so sad a case. He is modest, and he

left out some of the particulars. The lad reached South Australia just

in time to help discover the Burra-Burra copper mines. They turned out

L700,000 in the first three years. Up to now they have yielded

L120,000,000. He has had his share. Before that boy had been in the

country two years he could have gone home and bought a village; he could

go now and buy a city, I think. No, there is nothing very pathetic about

his case. He and his copper arrived at just a handy time to save South

Australia. It had got mashed pretty flat under the collapse of a land

boom a while before." There it is again; picturesque history

--Australia's specialty. In 1829 South Australia hadn't a white man in it.

In 1836 the British Parliament erected it--still a solitude--into a

Province, and gave it a governor and other governmental machinery.

Speculators took hold, now, and inaugurated a vast land scheme, and

invited immigration, encouraging it with lurid promises of sudden wealth.

It was well worked in London; and bishops, statesmen, and all ports of

people made a rush for the land company's shares. Immigrants soon began

to pour into the region of Adelaide and select town lots and farms in the

sand and the mangrove swamps by the sea. The crowds continued to come,

prices of land rose high, then higher and still higher, everybody was

prosperous and happy, the boom swelled into gigantic proportions. A

village of sheet iron huts and clapboard sheds sprang up in the sand, and

in these wigwams fashion made display; richly-dressed ladies played on

costly pianos, London swells in evening dress and patent-leather boots

were abundant, and this fine society drank champagne, and in other ways

conducted itself in this capital of humble sheds as it had been

accustomed to do in the aristocratic quarters of the metropolis of the

world. The provincial government put up expensive buildings for its own

use, and a palace with gardens for the use of its governor. The governor

had a guard, and maintained a court. Roads, wharves, and hospitals were

built. All this on credit, on paper, on wind, on inflated and fictitious

values--on the boom's moonshine, in fact. This went on handsomely during

four or five years. Then of a sudden came a smash. Bills for a huge

amount drawn the governor upon the Treasury were dishonored, the land

company's credit went up in smoke, a panic followed, values fell with a

rush, the frightened immigrants seized their grips and fled to other

lands, leaving behind them a good imitation of a solitude, where lately

had been a buzzing and populous hive of men.

Adelaide was indeed almost empty; its population had fallen to 3,000.

During two years or more the death-trance continued. Prospect of revival

there was none; hope of it ceased. Then, as suddenly as the paralysis

had come, came the resurrection from it. Those astonishingly rich copper

mines were discovered, and the corpse got up and danced.

The wool production began to grow; grain-raising followed--followed so

vigorously, too, that four or five years after the copper discovery, this

little colony, which had had to import its breadstuffs formerly, and pay

hard prices for them--once $50 a barrel for flour--had become an exporter

of grain.

The prosperities continued. After many years Providence, desiring to

show especial regard for New South Wales and exhibit loving interest in

its welfare which should certify to all nations the recognition of that

colony's conspicuous righteousness and distinguished well-deserving,

conferred upon it that treasury of inconceivable riches, Broken Hill; and

South Australia went over the border and took it, giving thanks.

Among our passengers was an American with a unique vocation. Unique is a

strong word, but I use it justifiably if I did not misconceive what the

American told me; for I understood him to say that in the world there was

not another man engaged in the business which he was following. He was

buying the kangaroo-skin crop; buying all of it, both the Australian crop

and the Tasmanian; and buying it for an American house in New York. The

prices were not high, as there was no competition, but the year's

aggregate of skins would cost him L30,000. I had had the idea that the

kangaroo was about extinct in Tasmania and well thinned out on the

continent. In America the skins are tanned and made into shoes. After

the tanning, the leather takes a new name--which I have forgotten--I only

remember that the new name does not indicate that the kangaroo furnishes

the leather. There was a German competition for a while, some years ago,

but that has ceased. The Germans failed to arrive at the secret of

tanning the skins successfully, and they withdrew from the business. Now

then, I suppose that I have seen a man whose occupation is really

entitled to bear that high epithet--unique. And I suppose that there is

not another occupation in the world that is restricted to the hands of a

sole person. I can think of no instance of it. There is more than one

Pope, there is more than one Emperor, there is even more than one living

god, walking upon the earth and worshiped in all sincerity by large

populations of men. I have seen and talked with two of these Beings

myself in India, and I have the autograph of one of them. It can come

good, by and by, I reckon, if I attach it to a "permit."

Approaching Adelaide we dismounted from the train, as the French say, and

were driven in an open carriage over the hills and along their slopes to

the city. It was an excursion of an hour or two, and the charm of it

could not be overstated, I think. The road wound around gaps and gorges,

and offered all varieties of scenery and prospect--mountains, crags,

country homes, gardens, forests--color, color, color everywhere, and the

air fine and fresh, the skies blue, and not a shred of cloud to mar the

downpour of the brilliant sunshine. And finally the mountain gateway

opened, and the immense plain lay spread out below and stretching away

into dim distances on every hand, soft and delicate and dainty and

beautiful. On its near edge reposed the city.

We descended and entered. There was nothing to remind one of the humble

capital, of buts and sheds of the long-vanished day of the land-boom.

No, this was a modern city, with wide streets, compactly built; with fine

homes everywhere, embowered in foliage and flowers, and with imposing

masses of public buildings nobly grouped and architecturally beautiful.

There was prosperity, in the air; for another boom was on. Providence,

desiring to show especial regard for the neighboring colony on the west

called Western Australia--and exhibit a loving interest in its welfare

which should certify to all nations the recognition of that colony's

conspicuous righteousness and distinguished well-deserving, had recently

conferred upon it that majestic treasury of golden riches, Coolgardie;

and now South Australia had gone around the corner and taken it, giving

thanks. Everything comes to him who is patient and good, and waits.

But South Australia deserves much, for apparently she is a hospitable

home for every alien who chooses to come; and for his religion, too.

She has a population, as per the latest census, of only 320,000-odd, and

yet her varieties of religion indicate the presence within her borders of

samples of people from pretty nearly every part of the globe you can

think of. Tabulated, these varieties of religion make a remarkable show.

One would have to go far to find its match. I copy here this

cosmopolitan curiosity, and it comes from the published census:

Church of England,........... 89,271

Roman Catholic,.............. 47,179

Wesleyan,.................... 49,159

Lutheran,.................... 23,328

Presbyterian,................ 18,206

Congregationalist,........... 11,882

Bible Christian,............. 15,762

Primitive Methodist,......... 11,654

Baptist,..................... 17,547

Christian Brethren,.......... 465

Methodist New Connexion,..... 39

Unitarian,................... 688

Church of Christ,............ 3,367

Society of Friends,.......... 100

Salvation Army,.............. 4,356

New Jerusalem Church,........ 168

Jews,........................ 840

Protestants (undefined),..... 6,532

Mohammedans,................. 299

Confucians, etc.,............ 3,884

Other religions,............. 1,719

Object,...................... 6,940

Not stated,.................. 8,046

Total,.......................320,431

The item in the above list "Other religions" includes the following as

returned:

Agnostics,

Atheists,

Believers in Christ,

Buddhists,

Calvinists,

Christadelphians,

Christians,

Christ's Chapel,

Christian Israelites,

Christian Socialists,

Church of God,

Cosmopolitans,

Deists,

Evangelists,

Exclusive Brethren,

Free Church,

Free Methodists,

Freethinkers,

Followers of Christ,

Gospel Meetings,

Greek Church,

Infidels,

Maronites,

Memnonists,

Moravians,

Mormons,

Naturalists,

Orthodox,

Others (indefinite),

Pagans,

Pantheists,

Plymouth Brethren,

Rationalists,

Reformers,

Secularists,

Seventh-day Adventists,

Shaker,

Shintoists,

Spiritualists,

Theosophists,

Town (City) Mission,

Welsh Church,

Huguenot,

Hussite,

Zoroastrians,

Zwinglian,

About 64 roads to the other world. You see how healthy the religious

atmosphere is. Anything can live in it. Agnostics, Atheists,

Freethinkers, Infidels, Mormons, Pagans, Indefinites they are all there.

And all the big sects of the world can do more than merely live in it:

they can spread, flourish, prosper. All except the Spiritualists and the

Theosophists. That is the most curious feature of this curious table.

What is the matter with the specter? Why do they puff him away? He is a

welcome toy everywhere else in the world.

Following the Equator: A Journey Around the World. Part 2 · 第 11 / 12 章