things to see and observe in endless variety. The fish market was full
of finny monsters of the deep, all new and strange to us, whose odd
Brazilian names would convey to a stranger but little idea of the fish
themselves. There was an enormous rock fish, weighing about three
hundred pounds, with hideous face and shiny back, and fins; large ray,
and skate, and cuttle fish--the octopus, or pieuvre, described with so
much exaggeration in Victor Hugo's "Travailleurs de la Mer," to say
nothing of the large prawns for which the coast is famous--prawns eight
or ten inches long, with antennae of twelve or fourteen inches in length.
Such prawns suit those only who care for quantity rather than for
quality; they are of indifferent flavour; whereas the oysters, which are
particularly small, are remarkable for their delicious taste. Mackerel
are here in abundance, also a good many turtle and porpoises, and a few
hammer-headed sharks.
In the fruit market were many familiar bright-coloured fruits. Fat,
jet-black negresses, wearing turbans on their heads, strings of coloured
beads on their necks and arms, and single long white garments, which
appeared to be continually slipping off their shoulders, presided over
glittering piles of oranges, bananas, pine-apples, passion-fruit,
tomatoes, apples, pears, capsicum and peppers, sugar-canes,
cabbage-palms, cherimoyas, and bread-fruit.
In another part of the market all sorts of live birds were for sale,
with a few live beasts, such as deer, monkeys, pigs, guinea-pigs in
profusion, rats, cats, dogs, marmosets, and a dear little lion-monkey,
very small and rather red, with a beautiful head and mane, who roared
exactly like a real lion in miniature. There were cages full of small
flamingoes, snipe of various kinds, and a great many birds of smaller
size, with feathers of all shades of blue, red, and green, and metallic
hues of brilliant lustre, besides parrots, macaws, cockatoos
innumerable, and torchas on stands. The torcha is a bright-coloured
black and yellow bird, about as big as a starling, which puts its little
head on one side and takes flies from one's fingers in the prettiest and
most enticing manner.
While the _Sunbeam_ was lying in the River Plate, Lady Brassey and her
party made an excursion to the Pampas, those broad, league-long
undulating plains of verdure, on which civilization as yet has made but
a limited advance.
"Miles and miles of gold and green
Where the sunflowers blow
In a solid glow,
And to break now and then the screen--
Black neck and eyeballs keen,
Up a wild horse leaps between."--(_R. Browning._)
According to Lady Brassey, the first glimpse of the far-spreading
prairie was most striking in all its variations of colour. The true
shade of the Pampas grass, when long, is a light dusty green; when
short, it is a bright fresh green. But it frequently happens that, owing
to the numerous prairie fires, either accidental or intentional, nothing
is visible but a vast expanse of black charred ground, here and there
relieved by a few patches of vivid green, where the grass is once more
springing up under the influence of the rain.
"The road, or rather track, was in a bad condition, owing to the recent
wet weather, and on each side of the five _canadas_, or small rivers,
which we had to ford, there were deep morasses, through which we had to
struggle as best we could, with the mud up to our axle-trees. Just
before arriving at the point where the stream had to be crossed, the
horses were well flogged and urged on at a gallop, which they gallantly
maintained until the other side was reached. Then we stopped to breathe
the horses and to repair damages, generally finding that a trace had
given way, or that some other part of the harness had shown signs of
weakness. On one occasion we were delayed for a considerable time by the
breaking of the splinter-bar, to repair which was a troublesome matter;
indeed, I don't know how we should have managed if we had not met a
native lad, who sold us his long lasso to bind the pieces together
again. It was a lucky _rencontre_ for us, as he was the only human being
we saw during the whole of our drive of thirty miles, except the peon
who brought us a change of horses half way.
"In the course of the journey we passed a large estancia, the road to
which was marked by the dead bodies and skeletons of the poor beasts who
had perished in the late droughts. Hundreds of them were lying about in
every stage of decay, those more recently dead being surrounded by
vultures and other carrion birds. The next _canada_ that we crossed was
choked up with the carcasses of the unfortunate creatures who had
struggled thus far for a last drink, and had then not had sufficient
strength left to extricate themselves from the water. Herds of
miserable-looking, half-starved cattle were also to be seen; the cows
very little larger than their calves, and all apparently covered with
the same rough shaggy coats. The pasture is not fine enough in this part
of the country to carry sheep, but deer are frequently met with....
"The natives of these parts pass their lives in the saddle. Horses are
used for almost every conceivable employment, from hunting and fishing
to brick-making and butter-churning. Even the very beggars ride about on
horseback. I have seen a photograph of one, with a police certificate of
mendicancy hanging round his neck. Every domestic servant has his or her
own horse, as a matter of course; and the maids are all provided with
habits, in which they ride about on Sundays, from one estancia to
another, to pay visits. In fishing, the horse is ridden into the water
as far as he can go, and the net or rod is then made use of by his
rider. At Buenos Ayres I have seen the poor animals all but swimming to
the shore, with heavy carts and loads, from the ships anchored in the
inner roads; for the water is so shallow, that only very small boats can
go alongside the vessels, and the cargo is therefore transferred
directly to the carts to save the trouble and expense of transhipment In
out-of-the-way places, on the Pampas, where no churns exist, butter is
made by putting milk into a goat-skin bag, attached by a long lasso to
the saddle of a peon, who is then set to gallop a certain number of
miles, with the bag bumping and jumping along the ground after him."[29]
* * * * *
When on her way to the Straits of Magellan, Lady Brassey saw something
of one of the most terrible of "disasters at sea"--a ship on fire. The
barque proved to be the _Monkshaven_, from Swansea, with a cargo of
smelting coal for Valparaiso. The _Sunbeam_, on discovering her,
hove-to, and sent a boat, which, as it was found impossible to save the
burning vessel, brought her captain and crew on board, and afterwards
saved most of their effects, with the ship's chronometers, charts, and
papers.
"The poor little dingy belonging to the _Monkshaven_ had been cast away
as soon as the crew had disembarked from her, and there was something
melancholy in seeing her slowly drift away to leeward, followed by her
oars and various small articles, as if to rejoin the noble ship she had
so lately quitted. The latter was now hove-to, under full sail, an
occasional puff of smoke alone betraying the presence of the demon of
destruction within. The sky was dark and lowering, the sunset red and
lurid in its grandeur, the clouds numerous and threatening, the sea high
and dark, with occasional streaks of white foam. Not a breath of wind
was stirring. Everything portended a gale. As we lay slowly rolling from
side to side, both ship and boat were sometimes plainly visible, and
then again both would disappear, for what seemed an age, in the deep
trough of the South Atlantic rollers."[30]
* * * * *
Something Lady Brassey has to say about the Patagonians, of whom the
early voyagers brought home such mythical accounts. They owe their name
to the fanciful credulity of Magellan, who thus immortalized his
conviction that they were of gigantic proportions--Patagons, or
Pentagons, that is, five cubits high. Sir Thomas Cavendish speaks of
them as averaging seven to eight feet in stature. In truth, they are a
fine robust race; well-limbed, of great strength, and above six feet in
height; not giants, but men cast in a noble mould, and, physically, not
inferior to the household regiments of the British army. They live the
true nomadic life, being almost constantly on horseback, and dashing at
headlong speed across their wide and open plains. Both men and women
wear a long flowing mantle of skins, which reaches from the waist to the
ankle, with a large loose piece dependent on one side, ready to be
thrown over their heads whenever necessary; this is fastened by a large
flat pin, hammered out either from the rough silver or from a dollar.
They are no believers in cleanliness; but daub their bodies with paint
and grease, especially the women. Their only weapons are knives and
bolas, the latter of which they throw with a surprising accuracy of aim.
That they possess even the rudest form of religious belief, or perform
any religious ceremonies, has never yet been ascertained. Their food
consists chiefly of the flesh of mares, and troops of these animals
accompany them always on their excursions. They also eat ostrich flesh,
as an exceptional _bonne bouche_, and birds' eggs, and fish, which the
women catch.
Low as they are in the scale of humanity, from the standpoint of Western
civilization, the Fuegians, or Canoe Indians, as they are generally
called, because they live so much on the water, and have no fixed abodes
on shore, sink much lower. They are cannibals, and, according to an old
writer, "magpies in chatter, baboons in countenance, and imps in
treachery." Whenever it is seen that a ship is in distress, or that a
shipwrecked crew have been cast ashore, signal fires blaze on every
prominent point, to convey the good news to the whole island population,
and immediately the natives assemble, like the clans at Roderick Dhu's
bidding, in Scott's "Lady of the Lake." But if all goes well, a vessel
may pass through Magellan's Straits without discerning any sign of human
life, the savages and their canoes lying hidden beneath the leafy screen
of overhanging boughs. Those who frequent the Eastern part of "Fireland"
(Tierra del Fuego) are clothed, in so far as they cover their nakedness
at all, in a deerskin mantle descending to the waist; those at the
Western end wear cloaks made from the skin of the sea otter. But most of
them are quite naked. Their food is of the scantiest description,
consisting almost wholly of shell-fish, sea-eggs, and fish generally,
which they train their dogs to assist them in catching. These dogs are
sent into the water at the mouth of a narrow creek or a small bay, where
they bark and flounder about until the fish are frightened into the
shallows.
Lady Brassey had an opportunity of seeing some Fuegians closely. When
the _Sunbeam_ was in English Reach, a canoe suddenly appeared on her
port bow, and as she seemed making direct for the yacht, Sir Thomas
ordered the engines to be slowed. Thereupon her occupants plied their
paddles more furiously than before, shouting and gesticulating
violently, one man waving a skin round his head with an energy of action
that threatened to capsize his frail craft--frail, in truth, for it was
made only of rough planks rudely fastened together with the sinews of
animals. A rope was thrown to them, and they came alongside, shouting
"Tabaco, galleta" (biscuit), a supply of which they received, in
exchange for the skin they had been waving; "whereupon the two men
stripped themselves of the skin mantles they were wearing, made of eight
or ten sea-otter skins, sewed together with finer sinews than those used
for the boat, and handed them up, clamouring for more tobacco, which we
gave them, together with some beads and knives." Finally, the woman,
influenced by so fair an example, parted with her sole garment, in
return for a little more tobacco, some beads, and some looking-glasses,
which were thrown into the canoe.
"The party consisted of a man, a woman, and a lad; and, I think," says
Lady Brassey, "I never saw delight more strongly depicted than it was on
the faces of the two latter, when they handled, for the first time in
their lives probably, some strings of blue, red, and green glass beads.
They had two rough pots, made of bark, in the boat, which they also
sold, after which they reluctantly departed, quite naked but very happy,
shouting and jabbering away in the most inarticulate language
imaginable. It was with great difficulty we could make them let go the
rope, when we went ahead, and I was quite afraid they would be upset.
They were all fat and healthy-looking, and, though not handsome, their
appearance was by no means repulsive; the countenance of the woman,
especially, wore quite a pleasing expression, when lighted up with
smiles at the sight of the beads and looking-glasses. The bottom of
their canoe was covered with branches, amongst which the ashes of a
recent fire were distinguishable. Their paddles were of the very
roughest description, consisting simply of split branches of trees, with
wider pieces tied on at one end with the sinews of birds or beasts."[31]
* * * * *
A fine contrast to these gloomy scenes is presented by Lady Brassey's
description of a coral island, one of those almost innumerable gems
which stud the broad bosom of the Pacific, like emeralds embossed on a
shield of azure and silver. It was the first land she touched in the
great South Sea. A reef of glowing coral enclosed a tranquil lagoon, to
which the green shores of the island gently sloped. The beauty of this
lagoon would need a Ruskin's pen to reproduce it in all its exquisite
and manifold colouring. Submarine coral forests, of every hue, enriched
with sea-flowers, anemones, and echinidae, of unimaginable brilliancy;
shoals of the brightest fish flashing in and out like rainbow gleams;
shells of gorgeous lustre, moving slowly along with their living
inmates; fairy foliage of fantastic sea-weeds stirred into tremulous
motion by the gliding wave; upon these the enchanted gaze dwelt in the
depths of the lagoon, while the surface glowed with every possible and
exquisite tint, from the palest aqua marina to the brightest emerald;
from the pure light blue of the turquoise to the "deeply, darkly,
beautifully blue" of the sapphire; while here and there the glassy wave
was broken up by patches of red, brown, and green coral rising from the
mass below. A rich growth of tropical vegetation encumbered the shore,
stretching down to the very border of the ribbed sands; palms and
cocoa-nuts lifted high their slender, shapely trunks; while in and out
flitted the picturesque figures of native women in red, blue, and green
garments, and of men in motley costumes, loaded with fish, fowls, and
bunches of cocoa-nuts.
* * * * *
On the 2nd of December the _Sunbeam_ arrived at the "Queen of the
Pacific," the lovely island of Tahiti, or, as it was first called,
Otaheite. Here Lady Brassey found herself in the midst of a fairy-like
drama, to describe which is almost impossible, so bewildering was it in
the brightness and variety of its colouring. "The magnolias and yellow
and scarlet hibiscus, overshadowing the water, the velvety turf, on to
which one steps from the boat, the white road running between rows of
wooden houses, whose little gardens are a mass of flowers, the men and
women clad in the gayest robes and decked with flowers, the piles of
unfamiliar fruit lying on the grass, waiting to be transported to the
coasting vessels in the harbour, the wide-spreading background of hills
clad in verdure to their summits--these are but a few of the objects
which greet the new comer on his first contact with the shore."
The impression produced by the first view was deepened by all that Lady
Brassey saw afterwards. On sea and shore, or in the heart of the island
groves, all was new, beautiful, striking. There was a strange light in
the firmament above, a glow in the wave beneath, such as she had not
seen elsewhere; for it was with open hands that Nature poured out her
dower upon Tahiti.
She went for a ride; the path carried her through a thick growth of
palm, orange, guava, and other tropical trees, some of which were
thickly draped with luxuriant creepers. Conspicuous among the latter
shone a gorgeous passion flower, with orange-coloured fruit as big as
pumpkins, that overspread everything with its vigour. The path was
everywhere narrow and sometimes steep; and frequently the horseman had
almost to creep under the close thick crop of interlacing boughs.
Crossing several bright little streams, it climbed to the summit of an
eminence which commanded on the one side a prospect of a picturesque
waterfall, on the other side of a deep ravine. A river issuing from a
narrow cleft in the rock takes but one mad leap from the edge of the
precipice into the valley below, a leap of 600 feet. "First one sees the
rush of blue water, gradually changing in its descent to a cloud of
white spray, which in its turn is lost in a rainbow of mist. Imagine
that from beneath the shade of feathery palms and broad-leaved bananas
through a network of ferns and creepers you are looking upon the
Staubbach, in Switzerland, magnified in height, and with a background of
verdure-clad mountains, and you will have some idea of the fall of
Fuatawah."[32]
With no spot that she touched at in her long ocean wanderings does Lady
Brassey seem to have been so delighted as with Tahiti. "Sometimes," she
says, "I think that all I have seen must be only a long vision, and that
too soon I shall awaken to the cold reality; the flowers, the fruit, the
colours worn by every one, the whole scene and its surroundings, seem
almost too fairy-like to have an actual existence." Human nature is, of
course, the same everywhere: vice and sorrow prevail at Tahiti as in the
reeking slums and lanes of great cities. It is only of the outward
aspect of things that Lady Brassey speaks, for she saw none other, and
assuredly at Tahiti that is fair exceedingly, and well calculated to
charm a cultivated taste, to fill a refined mind with memories of
beauty.
* * * * *
From Tahiti we pass on to Hawaii, the chief island of the Sandwich
group, and the centre of a civilization that may one day influence the
direction of the great currents of commerce in the Pacific. The
_Sunbeam_ arrived there on the 22nd of December.
"It was a clear afternoon. The mountains, Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa,
could be plainly seen from top to bottom, their giant crests rising
nearly 14,000 feet above our heads, their tree and fine clad slopes
seamed with deep gulches or ravines, down each of which a fertilizing
river ran into the sea. Inside the reef the white coral shore, on which
the waves seemed too lazy to break, is fringed with a belt of cocoa-nut
palms, amongst which, as well as on the hillside, the little white
houses are prettily dotted. All are surrounded by gardens, so full of
flowers that the bright patches of colour were plainly visible even from
the deck of the yacht.
"Having landed, we went for a stroll, among neat houses and pretty
gardens, to the suspension-bridge over the river, followed by a crowd of
girls, all decorated with wreaths and garlands, and wearing almost the
same dress that we had seen at Tahiti--a coloured, long-sleeved, loose
gown reaching to the feet. The natives here appear to affect duller
colours than those we have lately been accustomed to--lilac, drab,
brown, and other dark prints being the favourite tints. Whenever I
stopped to look at a view, one of the girls would come behind me and
throw a _lei_ of flowers over my head, fasten it round my neck, and then
run away laughing, to a distance, to judge of effect. The consequence
was that, before the end of our walk, I had about a dozen wreaths of
various colours and lengths, hanging round me, till I felt almost as if
I had a fur tippet on, they made me so hot; and yet I did not like to
take them off, for fear of hurting the poor girls' feelings."
[Illustration: A GIRL OF TAHITI.]
Wherever she went Lady Brassey seems to have commanded special
attention; partly no doubt due to her own personal qualities, and partly
to the fact that English ladies are rare visitors in the Polynesian
islands--and especially an English lady, the wife of a member of
parliament, who sails round the world in her husband's yacht!
Lady Brassey made, of course, an excursion to the great volcano of
Kilauea, of which Miss Bird has furnished a singularly fine description.
Lady Brassey's sketch is not so elaborate or powerful or fully coloured,
but it has a charm of its own in its unassuming simplicity. Let us go
with her on a visit to the two craters, the old and the new.
And, first of all, we descend the precipice, 300 feet in depth, which
forms the wall of the original crater, but now blooming with a prodigal
vegetation. In many places the incline is so steep that zigzag flights
of wooden steps have been inserted here and there in the face of the
cliff in order to facilitate the descent. At the bottom we step on to a
surface of cold boiled lava, and even here, in every chink where a
little soil has collected, Nature asserts her robust vitality, and
delicate little ferns put forth their green fronds to feel the light. An
extraordinary appearance did that vast lava field present, contorted as
it was into every imaginable shape and form, according to the
temperature it had attained and the rapidity with which it had cooled.
Here and there a patch looked not unlike the contents of a caldron,
which had been petrified in the very act of boiling; elsewhere the
iridescent lava had congealed into wave-like ridges, or huge coils of
rope, closely twisted together. Again it might be seen in the semblance
of a collection of organ-pipes, or accumulated into mounds and cones of
various dimensions. As our travellers moved forward, they felt that the
lava grew hotter and hotter, and from every fissure issued gaseous
fumes, which seriously affected their noses and throats; till, at last,
when passed to leeward of the lava-river rolling from the lake, they
were almost suffocated by the vapour, and it was with difficulty they
pursued their advance. The lava was more glassy and had a look of
greater transparency, as if it had been fused at an exceptionally high
temperature; and the crystals of alum, sulphur, and other minerals with
which it abounded, reflected the light in bright prismatic colours. In
some places the transparency was complete, and beneath it might easily
be seen the long streaks of that fibrous kind of lava, connected with a
superstition of the natives, which is known as "Pile's hair."
* * * * *
Lady Brassey and her companions reached, at last, the foot of the
present active crater, whence the molten contents of the terrestrial
interior are continually pouring forth in a lurid flood. With some
difficulty they gained the summit--to stand, silent and spell-bound, in
contemplation of a spectacle which more than realizes the terrors of the
ancient Phlegethon. The precipice overhung a basin of molten fire,
measuring nearly a mile across. With a clang, a clash, and a roar, like
that of breakers on a rocky coast, waves of blood-red, fiery, liquid
lava dashed against the opposing cliffs, and flung their spume high up
in the air--waves which were never still, but rolled onwards incessantly
to the charge, and as incessantly retired--hustling one another angrily,
and hissing and boiling and bubbling, like a sea chafed by adverse wind
and current. A dull dark red, like that of the lees of wine, seems the
normal colour of the surging lava, which was covered, however, with a
thin grey scum--this scum, or froth, being every moment and everywhere
broken by eddies and jets and whirlpools of red and yellow fire, and
occasionally thrown back on either side by the force and rush of swift
golden-tinted rivers. On one side of the lake the principal object of
attack was an island, dark and craggy, against which the lava-waves
rolled with impetuous fury. On the other, they swept precipitately into
a great cavern, carrying away the gigantic stalactites which hung at its
entrance, and filling it with a thunderous roar like that of contending
armies.
* * * * *