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THE LAND OF THE KANGAROO.
* * * * *
TRAVEL ADVENTURE SERIES.
IN WILD AFRICA. The Adventures of Two Youths in the Sahara Desert. By
Thomas W. Knox. 325 pages, with six illustrations by H. Burgess. 12mo.
Cloth. $1.50.
THE LAND OF THE KANGAROO. The Adventures of Two Youths in the Great
Island Continent. By Thomas W. Knox. 350 pages, with five illustrations
by H. Burgess. 12mo. Cloth. $1.50.
Col. Knox's sudden death, ten days after completing "The Land of the
Kangaroo" leaves unfinished this series of travel stories for boys
which he had planned. The publishers announce that the remaining
volumes of this series will be issued, although the work will be
done by another's hand.
Announcement concerning the remaining volumes of this series will be
made later.
* * * * *
THE LAND OF THE KANGAROO.
Adventures of Two Youths in a Journey Through
the Great Island Continent.
by
THOMAS W. KNOX.
Author of "In Wild Africa," "The Boy Travelers," (15 Vols.)
"Overland through Asia," Etc., Etc.
Illustrated By H. Burgess.
[Illustration: "WE PASSED A SHIP BECALMED IN THE DOLDRUMS."]
Boston, U. S. A.
W. A. Wilde & Company,
25 Bromfield Street.
Copyright, 1896.
by W. A. Wilde & Co.
All rights reserved.
The Land of the Kangaroo.
PREFACE.
The rapidly increasing prominence of the Australian colonies during the
past ten or twenty years has led to the preparation of the volume of
which this is the preface. Australia has a population numbering close
upon five millions and it had prosperous and populous cities, all of
them presenting abundant indications of collective and individual
wealth. It possesses railways and telegraphs by thousands of miles, and
the productions of its farms, mines, and plantations aggregate an
enormous amount. It has many millions, of cattle and sheep, and their
number is increasing annually at a prodigious rate.
Australia is a land of many wonders, and it is to tell the story of
these wonders and of the growth and development of the colonies of the
antipodes, that this volume has been written.
T. W. K.
CONTENTS.
I. WEST COAST OF AFRICA--Adventure in the South Atlantic Ocean
II. THE CAPE OF GOOD HOPE--The Southern Ocean--Australia
III. A LAND OF CONTRADICTIONS--Transportation to Australia
IV. STRANGE ADVENTURES--Australian Aboriginals
V. ACROSS AUSTRALIA--Tallest Trees in the World
VI. AUSTRALIAN BLACKS--Throwing the Boomerang
VII. ADELAIDE TO MELBOURNE--The Rabbit Pest--Dangerous Exotics
VIII. CANNIBAL BLACKS--Melbourne and its Peculiarities
IX. "THE LAUGHING JACKASS"--Australian Snakes and Snake Stories
X. THE HARBOR OF MELBOURNE--Convict Hulks and Bushrangers
XI. GEELONG--Australian Gold Mines--Finding a Big Nugget
XII. A SOUTHERLY BURSTER--Western Victoria
XIII. JOURNEY UP COUNTRY--Anecdotes of Bush Life
XIV. LOST IN THE BUSH--Australian Horses
XV. EXPERIENCES AT A CATTLE STATION--A Kangaroo Hunt
XVI. HUNTING THE EMU AND OTHER BIRDS--An Australian Sheep Run
XVII. FROM MELBOURNE TO SYDNEY--Crossing the Blue Mountains
XVIII. SIGHTS OF SYDNEY--Botany Bay and Paramatta
XIX. COAL MINES AT NEWCASTLE--Sugar Plantation in Queensland--The End
ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE.
"We passed a ship becalmed in the doldrums" Frontispiece. 18
"Harry had obtained a map of Australia" 56
A visit to the Zoological Garden 147
"There they go!" shouted Mr. Syme 242
THE LAND OF THE KANGAROO.
CHAPTER I.
WEST COAST OF AFRICA--ADVENTURE IN THE SOUTH ATLANTIC OCEAN.
"We don't want to stay long in this place."
"I don't think we do, sir," was the reply.
"The sooner we leave it, the better."
"That is so," said Harry; "I quite agree with you. I wonder how white
men manage to live here at all."
This conversation occurred at Bonny, a trading station on one of the
mouths of the river Niger in Western Africa. In former times Bonny was a
famous resort for slave traders, and great numbers of slaves were sent
from that place to North and South America. In addition to slave
trading, there was considerable dealing in ivory, palm oils, and other
African products. Trade is not as prosperous at Bonny nowadays as it was
in the slave-dealing times, but there is a fair amount of commerce and
the commissions of the factors and agents are very large. Bonny stands
in a region of swamps, and the climate exhales at all times of the year
pestilential vapors which are not at all suited to the white man. Most
of the white residents live on board old hulks which are moored to the
bank of the river, and they find these hulks less unhealthy than houses
off shore, for the reason that they are less exposed to the vapors of
the ground.
The parties to the conversation just quoted were Dr. Whitney and his
nephews, Ned and Harry; they had just arrived at Bonny, from a visit to
Lake Chad and Timbuctoo, and had made a voyage down the Niger, which has
been described in a volume entitled "In Wild Africa."
One of the residents told Dr. Whitney that all the coast of the Bight of
Benin, into which the Niger empties by its various mouths, was quite as
unhealthy as Bonny. "We don't expect anybody to live more than three or
four years after taking up his residence here," the gentleman remarked,
"and very often one or two years are sufficient to carry him off. The
climate is bad enough, but it isn't the climate that is to blame for all
the mortality, by any means. The great curse of the whole region is the
habit of drinking. Everybody drinks, and drinks like a fish, too. When
you call on anybody, the servants, without waiting for orders, bring a
bottle of brandy, or whiskey, or something of the sort, and place it on
the table between the host and the visitor. You are expected to drink,
and the man who declines to do so is looked upon as a milksop. When one
rises in the morning, his first call is for brandy and soda, and it is
brandy, and whiskey, and champagne, or some other intoxicant, all the
day long. The climate is bad enough without any help, but the drinking
habit of the residents along the Bight of Benin is worse than the
climate, and everybody knows it; but, somehow or other, everybody is
reckless and continues to drink, knowing perfectly well what the result
will be."
Dr. Whitney had already made observations to the same effect, and
remarked that he thought the west coast of Africa would be a good field
of labor for an advocate of total abstinence. His new acquaintance
replied that it might be under ordinary circumstances, but that the
conditions of the region where they were not ordinary. It was
necessary to remember that the men who went to West Africa for purposes
of trade were of a reckless, adventurous sort, having little regard for
the future and determined to make the most of the present. Men of this
class take very naturally to habits of dissipation, and would turn a
deaf ear to any advocate of temperance who might come among them.
Fortunately for our friends, they were detained at Bonny only a single
day. A small steamer which runs between Bonny and Fernando Po took them
to the latter place, which is on an island in the Atlantic Ocean, and
has a mountain peak ten thousand feet high. This peak is wooded to the
summit with fine timber, and altogether the island is a very attractive
spot to the eye, in comparison with Bonny and the swampy region of the
lower Niger.
Port Clarence, the harbor of Fernando Po, is said to be one of the
prettiest places of Western Africa. The town consists of a group of
houses somewhat irregularly placed, and guarded by a fort which could be
knocked down in a few hours by a fleet of modern warships.
Our friends went on shore immediately after their arrival, and found
quarters in what Ned called an apology for a hotel. Fernando Po is the
property of Spain, and the island is one of the State prisons of that
country. Some of the prisoners are kept in hulks in the harbor, while
others are confined in the fort. Not infrequently prisoners escape and
find shelter among the Adyia, the tribe of natives inhabiting the
island. They are a peaceful people, but have a marked hatred for
civilization. They rarely come into the town, and none of them will
consent to live there. Their huts or villages are scattered over the
forests, and when visitors go among them they are kindly treated. The
town of Port Clarence is occupied by a few white men and a considerable
number of negroes from Sierra Leone, Liberia, and other regions along
the coast.
"This will be as good a place to get away from as Bonny," the doctor
remarked to his nephews, as they were strolling about Port Clarence.
"I have observed," said Harry, "that the wind is blowing directly from
the coast, and therefore is bringing with it the malarias of the swampy
region which we have just left."
"That is quite true," the doctor answered, "and the circumstance you
mention makes a long stay here undesirable. Have you noticed that many
of the natives here seem to be suffering from skin diseases of one kind
or another?"
"I observed that," replied Ned, "and was wondering what was the cause of
it."
"I was told by a gentleman at the hotel," said the doctor, "that there
is an ulcer peculiar to this locality which is well-nigh incurable. The
slightest abrasion of the cuticle or even the bite of an insect is
sufficient to cause it. I was told that it sometimes happens that the
bite of a mosquito on the arm or leg will make amputation necessary,
and an instance of this kind occurred within the past three months. On a
first view of the island it looks like a delightful place, but a nearer
acquaintance dispels the illusion."
"I wonder how long we will be obliged to stay here," Harry remarked.
"According to the time-table," replied the doctor, "the mail steamer
will be here to-morrow; and if she comes, you may be sure we will take
passage on her."
The steamer came according to schedule, and when she left she carried
the three travelers away from Fernando Po. She was an English steamer
bound for the Cape of Good Hope. There was hardly any wind blowing when
the great ship started out into the Atlantic and headed away to the
southward, but the movement of the vessel through the water was
sufficient to create a breeze, which our friends greatly enjoyed. They
sat beneath the awnings which covered the entire length and width of the
steamer, studied their fellow-passengers, and now and then cast their
eyes over the wide and desolate sweep of waters to the west and south.
Not a sail was to be seen, a few craft were creeping along the coast,
but they were not numerous enough to add animation to the scene.
We will take from Harry's notebook an incident or two of the voyage.
"We found a mixed lot of passengers on board the steamer. There were a
few Englishmen going to South Africa for the first time,--young fellows
seeking their fortunes, and full of hope and ambition. One of them said
he was going up country on a hunting expedition, not for the sport only,
but for the money that could be made by the sale of hides, ivory, horns,
and other products of the chase. He was quite well informed concerning
the business on which he was bent, and told me that it was the custom
for two or more men, generally not above four, to buy wagons, oxen,
horses, and provisions in one of the towns on the coast or in the
interior, and then strike out into the wild country for an absence of
anywhere from three to six or seven months. Their provisions consisted
of flour, sugar, tea, pepper, salt, and a few other things. For meat
they relied upon what they killed; and he added that a great deal of
meat was needed, as there were from twenty-five to fifty natives
attached to a hunting party and all of them had ferocious appetites.
"They shot anything that came in their way, elephants, buffaloes,
elands, gemsbok, and I don't know what else. It was a hard life and not
without risk, but it was healthy and full of good sport. He told us so
much about his business that Ned and I heartily wished to go with him
and have a share in the experience and fun.
"Another young man was going out as a mining engineer and expected to
find employment in some of the newly opened gold mines in the
Johannesburg district. Another was to become the manager of a large farm
forty or fifty miles from Cape Town, which was owned by his uncle.
Another young man was going out with no particular object in view, and
said he was ready for anything that turned up.
"Then there were Afrikanders who had been on a visit to England for
business, or pleasure, or both combined. One had been there for the
express purpose of finding a bride; he found her, and she was with him
as a passenger on the steamer. She and two others were the only lady
passengers on the ship; men greatly predominated among the passengers,
and we were told that such was always the case on board one of these
steamers. One of the passengers was a resident of Durban, the port of
Natal, and he gave us a cordial invitation to visit his place. 'You will
find Durban a very interesting spot,' said he, 'and the only bad thing
about it is getting ashore. There is a nasty sea breaking there most of
the time, and it is tedious work getting from a ship into a small boat
and then getting safe to land. You must come prepared to be soused with
salt water two or three times before you get your feet fairly planted on
the shore.'
"Ned and I concluded that we would not make any special effort to get to
Durban, although we had received such a cordial invitation to go there.
"We had a good breeze," continued Harry, "until we got to within four
degrees of the Equator; then the wind died out and left the sea as
smooth as glass, without the least motion upon it anywhere. We seemed to
be running through an enormous plate of glass, polished until it shone
like the most perfect mirror ever made. As we looked down from the rail
into the depths of the sea our faces were reflected, and there seemed to
be a counterfeit presentment of ourselves gazing at us from the depths
below, and, oh, wasn't it hot, blistering, burning hot! The sun poured
down so that the heat pierced our awnings as though no awnings had been
there, and the breeze which the ship created by her motion seemed like
the blast from a furnace. The pitch oozed from the seams of the planking
on the deck, and the deck itself became blistering hot to one's feet.
There was not the least stir of the sails and only the faintest motion
of the ship from side to side. Respiration became difficult, and, as I
looked about, I could see the passengers and sailors yawning and gaping
in the effort to draw in their breath. All the metal about the ship
became hot, especially the brass. If you touched it, it almost seemed to
raise a blister, and the spot with which you touched it was painful for
hours.
"We passed a ship becalmed in the doldrums, as this region is called,
and she looked more like a painted ship upon a painted ocean than any
other craft I ever saw. Her sails were all hanging loose, and so were
all the ropes, and lines, and halyards from one end of the ship to the
other. She was as motionless as if she were tied up to a dock in harbor,
and there was very little sign of life about her anywhere. I asked one
of our officers how long that ship had probably been there and how long
she was liable to stay.
"'That's a question, young man,' he replied, 'that I can't answer very
surely. She may have been there a day or two only, and may stay only a
day or so, and then, again, she may have been there a week or a month;
we can't tell without speaking her, and we are not particularly
interested in her, anyhow.'"
Then he went on to explain that ships have been becalmed at the Equator
for two months and more, lying all the time in a dead calm, just like
the one through which we were passing.
"Two weeks," he said, "is a fair time for a ship to stay in the
doldrums, and you can be sure it is quite long enough for passengers and
crew.
"Passengers and crew sometimes die of the heat, and existence under such
circumstances becomes a burden. There are stories about ships that have
been in the doldrums six or eight months at a time, but I am not
inclined to believe them; for a man to stay in this terrific heat for
that length of time would be enough to drive him crazy.
"The steamer was three days in the calm belt of the Equator before we
struck the southeast trades, and had a breeze again. I don't want to
repeat my experiences with the doldrums.
"One day I heard a curious story about an incident on board an American
ship not far from the Cape of Good Hope. She was from Calcutta, and
bound to New York, and her crew consisted of American sailors, with the
exception of two Indian coolies who had been taken on board at Calcutta
because the ship was short-handed. One of these coolies had been put,
one in the starboard and the other in the port watch, and everything had
been quiet and peaceable on board the ship until the incident I am about
to describe.
"One night the ship was sailing quietly along, and some of the men
noticed, or remembered afterwards, that when the watches were changed,
the coolie who had been relieved from duty remained on deck. Shortly
after the change of watch, the two mates of the ship were standing near
the lee rail and talking with each other, when the two coolies came
along and one of them made the remark that he was sick. This remark was
evidently a signal, for instantly one of the coolies drew a knife and
stabbed the first mate to the heart, while simultaneously the other
coolie sprang with a knife at the second officer and gave him several
stabs in the chest.
"The first mate fell dead at the stroke of the knife, but the second
mate had sufficient strength left to crawl to the companionway leading
to the captain's room, where he called out, 'Captain Clark!' 'Captain
Clark!' and then ceased to breathe.
"The captain sprang from his bunk, and rushed on deck in his
night-clothes. At the top of the companion-steps he was violently
stabbed on the head and seized by the throat; he was quite unarmed and
struck out with his fists at the face of his assailant, hoping to blind
him. The coolie continued to stab him, and the captain started back down
the steps until he slipped in the blood that covered them, and fell into
the cabin, with a terrible wound in his side. He then crawled to where
his revolver was, and started up the steps; when half way up, a man
rolled down the steps against him and knocked him over.
"The captain thought it was the coolie, but it proved to be one of the
sailors, who was frightened half to death. All he could say was, to beg
of the captain to save him.
"The captain had his wife and child on board, and his wife was roused by
the tumult. She came to her husband's aid and proceeded to bind up his
wounds. While she was doing this one of the coolies smashed in the
skylight, and would have jumped into the cabin had not the captain fired
at him with his revolver and drove him away.
"The next thing the coolies did was to murder the man at the wheel and
fling his body overboard. Then they murdered the carpenter and a sailor
and disposed of them the same way. Including the two mates, five men
were slain and four others were wounded. The wounded men and the rest of
the crew barricaded themselves in the forecastle for protection, and
there they remained the rest of the night and all through the next day.
The captain and his wife and child stayed in the cabin.
"The two coolies were in full possession of the ship from a little past
midnight until eight o'clock of the following evening. One of them,
venturing near the skylight, was shot in the breast by the captain, and
then the two coolies rushed forward and threw a spar overboard. One of
them jumped into the sea and clung to the spar, while the other dropped
down into the between-decks, where he proceeded to set the ship on fire.
Seeing this, the sailors who had barricaded themselves in the forecastle
broke out, and two of them proceeded to hunt the coolie down with
revolvers. They hunted him out and shot him in the shoulder, and then he
jumped overboard and joined his companion. Shots were fired at the two
men, and soon afterward they sank.
"The fire got such headway that it could not be put out. Finally a boat
was provisioned and lowered; the crew entered it, and after waiting
about the ship during the night in the hope that the flames might bring
assistance, they put up a sail and headed for St. Helena. Thus was a
ship's crew of twenty-three people overawed and rendered helpless by two
slender coolies, whom any one of the Yankee crew could have crushed out
of existence in a very short space of time.
"The steamer passed near Ascension Island, but did not stop there. This
island is entered in the British Navy List as a commissioned ship. It is
nearly three thousand feet high, very rocky and well supplied with fresh
water. Ships often stop there for a supply of water and such fresh
provisions as are obtainable. The climate is said to be very healthy,
and when the crews of British naval vessels are enfeebled by a long stay
on the African coast, they go to Ascension Island to recruit their
strength."
Ned and Harry were very desirous of visiting the island of St. Helena,
which became famous as a prison and for many years the grave of
Napoleon. They were disappointed on ascertaining that the ship would not
stop there, and the officer of whom they made inquiry said there was
nothing to stop there for. "The island is not of much account," he said,
"and the natives have a hard time to make a living. In the days of
sailing ships it was a favorite stopping place and the inhabitants did a
good business. The general introduction of steamships, along with the
digging of the Suez Canal, have knocked their business all to pieces.
"Where they used to have a dozen or twenty ships a month, they get about
half as many in a year. The buildings where Napoleon used to live are
all gone to ruin, and the sight of them does not pay for the journey
one has to make to get there."
When it was announced that the vessel was nearing the Cape of Good Hope,
our young friends strained their eyes in a friendly competition to be
first to make it out. Harry was ahead of Ned in discerning the dim
outline of Table Mountain, which is well described by its name. It is a
flat-topped mountain fronting on the bay on which Cape Town stands. It
is about three thousand five hundred feet in height, and is guarded on
the left by the Lion's Head, and on the right by the Devil's Berg. The
harbor is reached by passing between a small island and the coast, the
island forming a very fair shelter for ships that lie inside of it.
Here the voyage of the steamer came to an end, as she belonged to one of
the lines plying between England and the Cape. It became necessary for
our friends to look around for another ship to carry them to their
destination. They were not in any particular hurry about it, as they
were quite willing to devote a little time to the Cape and its
peculiarities.
A swarm of boats surrounded the ship as soon as her anchor was down, and
everybody was in a hurry to get on shore. As soon as our friends could
obtain a boat, their baggage was passed over the side and they followed
it. The boat was managed by a white man, evidently of Dutch origin, who
spoke a mixture of Dutch, English, and Hottentot, and perhaps two or
three other native languages, in such a confused way that it was
difficult to understand him in any. Four negroes rowed the boat and did
the work while the Dutchman superintended it. The boatman showed a
laudable desire to swindle the travelers, but his intentions were curbed
by the stringent regulations established by the city authorities.
As they neared the landing place, Ned called attention to a swarm of
cabs that seemed to be far in excess of any possible demand for them.
Harry remarked that he didn't think they would have any lack of vehicles
to take them to the hotel, and so it proved. The cab drivers displayed
great eagerness in their efforts to secure passengers, and their prices
were by no means unreasonable.
We will listen to Ned as he tells the story of what he saw on landing in
Cape Town.
"The thing that impressed me most was the varying complexion of the
inhabitants. They are not exactly of the colors of the rainbow, but they
certainly present all the shades of complexion that can be found in the
human face. You see fair-haired Englishmen, and English women, too, and
then you see negroes so black that charcoal 'would make a white mark on
their faces,' as one of my schoolmates used to say. Between these two,
so far as color is concerned, you see several shades of negro
complexion; and you also see Malays, coolies from India, Chinese, and I
don't know what else. The Malays or coolies have drifted here in search
of employment, and the same is the case with the Chinese, who are to be
found, so Dr. Whitney says, in every port of Asia and Africa.
"Most of these exotic people cling to their native costume, especially
the natives of India, and the Malays, though a good deal depends on the
employment in which they engage. Some of the Malays drive cabs, and the
drivers usually adopt European dress or a modification of it. Among the
white inhabitants the Dutch hold a predominating place, and they are
said to outnumber the English; they are the descendants of the original
settlers at the Cape something more than two hundred years ago. They
observe their individuality and have an important voice in the local
affairs of the colony; but whenever the English authorities have their
mind made up to pursue a certain policy, whether it be for the
construction of railways in the interior or the building of docks or
breakwaters in the harbor of Cape Town, they generally do pretty much as
they please.
"I observed that the people on the streets seem to take things easily
and move about with quite a languid air. This was the case with white
and colored people alike; probably the Dutch settlers set the example
years and years ago, and the others have followed it. Harry thinks that
it is the heat of the place which causes everybody to move about slowly.
Some one has remarked that only dogs and strangers walk rapidly; in Cape
Town the only people whom I saw walking fast were some of our
fellow-passengers from the steamer. I actually did see a negro running,
but the fact is, that another negro with a big stick was running after
him. As for the dogs, they seemed just as quiet as their masters.
"We inquired for the best hotel in Cape Town, and were taken to the one
indicated as such. Harry says he thinks the driver made a mistake and
took us to the worst; and Dr. Whitney remarks that if this is the best,
he doesn't want to travel through the street where the worst one
stands. We have made some inquiries since coming to this house, and
find that it is really the best, or perhaps I ought to say the least
bad, in the place. The table is poor, the beds lumpy and musty, and
nearly every window has a broken pane or two, while the drainage is
atrocious.
"We are told that the hotels all through South Africa are of the same
sort, and the only thing about them that is first class is the price
which one pays for accommodation. The hotel is well filled, the greater
part of the passengers from our steamer having come here; but I suppose
the number will dwindle down considerably in the next two or three days,
as the people scatter in the directions whither they are bound. Most
people come to Cape Town in order to leave it.
"And this reminds me that there are several railways branching out from
Cape Town. There is a line twelve hundred miles long to Johannisburg in
the Transvaal Republic, and there are several other lines of lesser
length. The colonial government has been very liberal in making grants
for railways, and thus developing the business of the colony. Every year
sees new lines undertaken, or old ones extended, and it will not be very
long before the iron horse goes pretty nearly everywhere over the length
and breadth of South Africa.
"We have driven along the principal streets of the city, and admired the
public buildings, which are both numerous and handsome. We took a
magnificent drive around the mountain to the rear of the city, where
there are some very picturesque views. In some places the edge of the
road is cut directly into the mountain side, and we looked almost
perpendicularly down for five or six hundred feet, to where the waters
of the Atlantic were washing the base of the rocks. From the mountain
back of Cape Town, there is a fine picture of the city harbor and lying
almost at one's feet; the city, with its rows and clusters of buildings
glistening in the sunlight, and the bright harbor, with its docks,
breakwaters, and forest of masts in full view of the spectator. From
this point we could see better than while in the harbor itself, the
advantages of the new breakwater. It seems that the harbor is exposed to
southeast winds, which are the prevailing ones here. When the wind
freshens into a gale, the position of the ships at anchor in the harbor
is a dangerous one, and the breakwaters have been constructed so as to
obviate this danger. When they are completed, the harbor will be fairly
well landlocked, and ships may anchor in Table Bay, and their masters
feel a sense of security against being driven on shore."