THE CAPE OF GOOD HOPE--THE SOUTHERN OCEAN--AUSTRALIA.
"Would you like to visit an ostrich farm?" said Dr. Whitney, while our
friends were at breakfast, on the second morning after their arrival at
Cape Town.
"I would, for one," said Harry; to which Ned replied, "and so would I."
"Very well," continued the doctor. "I have an invitation to visit an
ostrich establishment, and we will start immediately after breakfast.
The railway will take us within about three miles of the farm, and the
gentleman who has given me the invitation, and included you in it, will
accompany us on the train, and his carriage will meet us at the
station."
"That is capital!" exclaimed Harry. "He will be sure to give us a great
deal of information on the subject while we are on the train, so that we
can see the farm more intelligently than would otherwise be the case."
"Yes, that is so," echoed Ned, "and as he is the proprietor of the
establishment, he will certainly know all about the business."
At the appointed time the party assembled at the railway station in Cape
Town, and when the train was ready, our friends, accompanied by their
host, Mr. Shaffner, took their places and were soon whirling away
towards their destination. For a part of the way the train wound among
hills and low mountains, and for another it stretched away across the
level or slightly undulating plain. Mr. Shaffner entered at once upon
the subject of ostriches, and as he began his conversation, Harry asked
him if he had any objections to their taking notes of what he said.
"Not in the least," was the reply; "you are welcome to take all the
notes you like, and if there is any point that I don't explain fully to
your satisfaction, please tell me, and I will be more explicit."
The youths thanked him for his courtesy, and immediately brought out
their notebooks and pencils.
"According to tradition," said Mr. Shaffner, "ostriches were formerly
very abundant, wild ones, I mean, all over this part of the country. In
the early part of this century they were so numerous in the neighborhood
of Cape Town, that a man could hardly walk a quarter of an hour without
seeing one or more of these birds. As late as 1858, a flock of twenty or
thirty were seen among hills about twenty miles from Cape Town, but
after that time they seemed to have disappeared almost entirely. Ostrich
farming is an enterprise of the past twenty years, and before it began,
the only way of procuring ostrich feathers was by hunting down and
killing the wild birds. The practise was cruel, and it was also the
reverse of economical. Thoughtful hunters realized this, and a rumor
went through the colony that ostriches had been domesticated in Algeria,
and were successfully raised for the production of feathers. When this
rumor or report went about, it naturally set some of us thinking, and
our thoughts were, 'Why can't ostriches be raised here, as well as in
Algeria?' Several enterprising men proceeded to make experiments. They
offered to pay a high price for live birds in good health and condition,
and the price they offered induced the natives to set about catching
them.
"Of course we were all in the dark as to the proper method of taking
care of ostriches, as the business was entirely new to all of us. We
made many mistakes and lost a good many birds. The eggs became addled
and worthless, and for the first two or three years it looked as though
the experiments would be a failure. Our greatest difficulty was in
finding proper food for the birds. We tried them with various kinds of
grasses, and we studied as well as we could the habits of the wild bird
at home. We found that they needed a certain quantity of alkalies, and
they subsisted largely upon the sweet grasses, wherever they could find
them. The grass called lucerne seems the best adapted to them, and you
will find it grown on all ostrich farms for the special purpose of
feeding the birds.
"We have got the business down so fine now that we understand all the
various processes of breeding, rearing, herding, feeding, plucking, and
sorting. We buy and sell ostriches just as we do sheep. We fence in our
flocks, stable them, grow crops for them, study their habits, and cut
their feathers as matters of business. We don't send the eggs to market
along with our butter and cheese, as they are altogether too dear for
consumption. It is true that an ostrich egg will make a meal for three
or four persons; but at five dollars an egg, which is the usual price,
the meal would be a dear one.
"In fact, the eggs are so precious," he continued, "that we don't allow
them to be hatched out by the birds. For fear of accidents, as soon as
the eggs have been laid they are taken from the nests and placed in a
patent incubator to be hatched out. The incubator makes fewer mistakes
than the parent ostriches do. That is to say, if you entrust a given
number of eggs to the birds to be hatched out in the natural way, and
place the same number in an incubator, you will get a considerably
larger proportion of chicks from the latter than from the former.
"The business of ostrich farming," Mr. Shaffner went on to say, "is
spread over the colony from the near neighborhood of Cape Town to the
eastern frontier, and from Albany to the Orange River. Ostrich farms
were scattered at no great distances apart, and some of the proprietors
had a high reputation for their success. He said it must not be
understood that ostrich farming was the great industry of the country;
on the contrary, the product of wool was far greater in value than that
of feathers, and the ostriches were to the sheep as one is to a
thousand."
Harry asked if the birds were allowed to run at large, or were kept
constantly in enclosures.
"Both plans are followed," said Mr. Shaffner, "and some of the farmers
allow their flocks to run at large, feeding them once a day on grain,
for which they must come to the home stable. The ostriches know the hour
of feeding as well as if they carried watches, and are promptly on hand
when their dinner time arrives. In this way they are kept under
domestication and accustomed to the presence of men, but occasionally
they stray away and disappear. The safer way is to keep a native boy or
man constantly with each herd of ostriches, and the herder is held
responsible for the loss of any bird.
"Even then the flock may sometimes be frightened and scattered beyond
the ability of the herder to bring the birds together. On my farm, I
have the ground fenced off into fifty-acre lots. I divide my birds into
flocks of twenty-five or thirty, and put them successively in the
different lots of land. I sow the ground with lucerne, and do not turn a
flock into a field or paddock until the grass is in good condition for
the birds to eat.
"You may put it down as a rule on ostrich farms, that plenty of space
and a good fence are essential to success. In every paddock you must
have a good shed, where the birds can take shelter when it rains. You
must also have a kraal or yard in each paddock, where you can drive the
birds whenever you want to select some of them for cutting their
feathers. It is proper to say, however, that a kraal in each paddock is
not necessary, as all that work can be done at the home station, where
you have the buildings for artificial hatching and for gathering the
feathers."
Ned asked what kind of ground was best suited for the ostrich.
"You must have ground where the soil and plants are rich in alkalies,"
replied Mr. Shaffner, "and when this is not the case, care must be taken
to supply the needful element. Before this matter was understood there
was some melancholy failures in the business. A friend of mine started
an ostrich farm on a sandstone ridge. There was no limestone on the
farm, and most of the birds died in a few months, and those that lived
laid no eggs and produced very few feathers. Limestone was carted to the
farm from a considerable distance, and the birds would not touch it.
Bones were then tried and with admirable effect. What the birds required
was phosphate of lime, and the bones gave them that. They rushed at them
with great eagerness, and as soon as they were well supplied with bones
they began to improve in health and to lay eggs. On farms like the one I
mentioned, a quarter of a pound of sulphur and some salt is mixed with
two buckets of pulverized bones, and the birds are allowed to eat as
much of this mixture as they like. Where the rocks, grass, and soil
contain alkaline salts in abundance, the birds require very little, if
any, artificial food, and they thrive, fatten, pair, and lay eggs in the
most satisfactory manner."
"According to the story books," said Harry, "the ostrich will eat
anything. But from what you say, Mr. Shaffner, it does not seem that
that is really the case."
"The ostrich has a very good appetite, I must say," was the reply, "and
so far as green things are concerned, he will eat almost anything;
lucerne, clover, wheat, corn, cabbage leaves, fruit, grain, and garden
vegetables are all welcome, and he eats a certain quantity of crushed
limestone and bones, and generally keeps a few pebbles in his stomach to
assist him in the process of digestion. If he sees a bright sparkling
stone on the ground, he is very apt to swallow it, and that reminds me
of a little incident about two years ago. An English gentleman was
visiting my place, and while he was looking around he came close up to
the fence of a paddock containing a number of ostriches. An ostrich was
on the other side of the fence and close to it. The gentleman had a
large diamond in his shirt front, and while he was looking at the bird,
the latter, with a quick movement of his head, wrenched the stone from
its setting and swallowed it. I see that none of you wear diamonds, and
so it is not necessary for me to repeat the caution which I have ever
since given to my diamond-wearing visitors."
"What became of the diamond?" Harry asked.
"Oh! my visitor bought the bird and had it killed, in order to get the
diamond back again. He found it safe in the creature's stomach, along
with several small stones. It was a particularly valuable gem, and the
gentleman had no idea of allowing the bird to keep it."
Ned wanted to know if ostriches lived in flocks like barnyard fowls, or
divided off into pairs like the majority of forest and field birds.
"That depends a great deal upon the farmer," Mr. Shaffner answered. "The
pairing season is in the month of July, which is equivalent to the
English January. Some farmers, when the pairing time approaches, put a
male and female bird together in a pen; some put two females with a
male, and very often a male bird has five hens in his family. The birds
run in pairs or flocks, as the case may be. In August, the hens begin to
lay, and continue to deposit eggs for a period of six weeks. They do not
lay every day, like domestic fowls, but every second or third day. As I
have already told you, the eggs are taken as soon as laid and hatched
in an incubator. Sixteen birds out of twenty eggs is considered a very
fair proportion, while, if the bird is allowed to sit on the eggs, we
are not likely to get more than twelve out of twenty. There is another
advantage in hatching eggs by the incubator process, and that is, that
when the eggs are taken away the hen proceeds a few weeks later to lay
another batch of eggs, which she does not do if she has a family to care
for."
"What do you do with the young birds when they are hatched?"
"We put them in a warm room," was the reply, "and at night they are put
in a box lined with wool; they are fed with chopped grass suitable to
them, and as soon as they are able to run about they are entrusted to
the care of a small boy, a Kaffir or Hottentot, to whom they get
strongly attached. They grow quite rapidly and begin to feather at eight
months after hatching, but the yield at that time is of very little
value. Eight months later there is another and better crop, and then at
each season the crop improves until the birds are four or five years
old, when it reaches its maximum condition. Exactly how long an ostrich
will live, I don't know. There are some birds here in South Africa that
are twenty years old, and they are strong and healthy yet."
Conversation ran on in various ways until the station was reached where
our friends were to leave the train. The carriage was waiting for them,
and the party drove at once to the farm, where Mr. Shaffner showed them
about the place, and called attention to the flocks of birds straying
about the different paddocks. It so happened that a flock had been
driven up that very morning for the purpose of cutting such of the
feathers as were in proper condition to be removed from the birds.
While the men were driving the birds into the kraal, Mr. Shaffner
explained that there was a difference of opinion among farmers as to
whether the feathers should be plucked or cut. He said that when the
feather is plucked or pulled out at the roots it is apt to make a bad
sore, and at any rate cause a great deal of pain; while the feather that
grows in its place is apt to be twisted or of poor quality, and
occasionally the birds die, as a result of the operation. When a feather
is nipped off with pincers or cut with a knife the bird is quite
insensible to the operation. The stumps that are left in the flesh of
the ostrich fall out in the course of a month or six weeks, or can be
easily drawn out, and then a new and good feather grows in place of the
old one. The reason why plucking still finds advocates is that the
feathers with the entire quill bring a higher price in the market than
those that have been cut or nipped.
Harry and Ned watched with much interest the process of removing
feathers from the birds. Here is the way Harry describes it.
"The men moved around among the ostriches in a perfectly easy way, and
seemed to be on the best of terms with their charges. The foreman
selected a bird and indicated to one of the men that he wanted it
brought forward. Thereupon the man seized the bird by the neck and
pressed its head downward until he could draw a sack like a long and
very large stocking over it.
"When blindfolded in this way the ostrich is perfectly helpless, and
will stand perfectly still. The man pushed and led the bird up to the
fence, and then the foreman, armed with his cutting nippers, selected
the feathers that he wanted and cut them off. When the operation was
ended the sack was removed, and the ostrich resumed his place among his
companions. He did not strike, or kick, or indicate in any way that he
was aware of what had happened to him.
"During their breeding time the male ostriches are decidedly vicious,
and it is dangerous to go near them. Mr. Shaffner told us that several
serious accidents had happened to his men at such times. Occasionally a
bird shows more or less ugliness on being driven into a kraal, and when
this is the case caution must be used in approaching him. The ostrich's
favorite mode of fighting is to strike or kick with one leg, and he can
give a terrible blow in this way.
"I asked Mr. Shaffner," said Harry, "what was the value of a good
ostrich. He replied that the question was one he could not answer in a
single phrase. He said that an egg was worth not less than five dollars,
and an ostrich chick, fresh from the egg, was worth twenty-five dollars.
"After a few months it was double that value, and by the time it was a
year old it was worth two hundred and fifty dollars. Mr. Shaffner said
he would be unwilling to sell a pair of hens and a male ostrich for less
than two thousand dollars, but he explained that a great deal depended
upon the breeding and feather-producing qualities of the birds.
"Then, I asked," continued Harry, "about the yield of feathers, and was
told that the average yield was about fifty dollars annually to a good
bird. The feathers ripen at the time of incubation and are injured by
the process, so that the artificial incubator, by releasing the birds
from duty on the nest, is of special value.
"I remarked," said Harry, "that, considering the increase in the flocks
and the money obtained from the feathers, ostrich farming ought to be
very profitable."
"Well, it is profitable in a general way," replied Mr. Shaffner, "but
that is not by any means the rule. There are farmers who have never made
anything by it, and it has its drawbacks, like everything else. The
birds are subject to diseases of various kinds, and there is a parasitic
worm on some farms that is very destructive. Wild beasts kill the birds,
and I myself have lost three fine ostriches this year in that way. I
know one farm on which eighty-five birds were originally placed. In the
very first year twenty-seven were lost, thirteen by cold and wet, three
by diphtheria, six killed by natives, three by fighting, and two by
falling into holes. Out of sixty eggs, nineteen were destroyed by crows.
These birds would take stones in their claws, fly to a point directly
over the nest, and then let the stones fall on the eggs, thus breaking
them, so that they could get at the contents of the shells. The
remaining eggs were sent to a neighboring farm to be artificially
incubated, but only ten of them hatched out. So, you see," the gentleman
continued, "ostrich farming has its hard times, like everything else."
After inspecting the ostrich farm our friends were entertained at a
substantial dinner in the house of their host, and in the afternoon were
driven to the railway station, whence they returned to Cape Town, having
well enjoyed their first excursion.
That evening Dr. Whitney received an invitation to visit a large sheep
farm about thirty miles from Cape Town, accompanied, as before, by his
two nephews. He accepted the invitation, and the trio took an early
train for their destination. They were met at the station by the owner
of the establishment, and were speedily shown through the entire place.
Sheep farming was less a novelty to our young friends than ostrich
farming, and consequently they had much less interest in seeing the
sights of the establishment. Harry wrote a brief account of their visit,
and we are permitted to copy from it.
"Evidently the place was prosperous," said Harry, in his journal, "as we
found an abundance of substantial buildings, a luxurious house for the
owner, and substantial dwellings for the manager and his assistant. We
sat down to an excellent, though somewhat late breakfast. We had a good
appetite for it, as we had breakfasted very lightly before leaving Cape
Town. On the table we had broiled chickens, broiled ham, and lamb chops,
together with eggs, bread, and the usual concomitants of the morning
meal.
"After breakfast we visited the sheds where the sheep are sheared, and
also the surrounding sheds and yards where the animals are driven up at
shearing time. We were sorry that it was not the time of the annual
shearing, so that we could witness the process. Our host told us that
the shearers travel about the country, and take contracts for shearing
the flocks at so much a head. In addition to their wages, they were
supplied with food, and he added that the shearers were a fastidious
lot, and nothing but the best table would suit them.
"After inspecting the buildings, we were supplied with saddle horses and
rode over the farm. The sheep are divided into flocks of about three
hundred each, and every flock is in charge of two herders or shepherds.
Some of them come into the home stations at night, while others have
separate out stations of their own. The herders are either Hottentots or
Kaffirs; at any rate they are negroes. The two of them start out in the
morning with the flock, and go slowly along, allowing the sheep to feed,
and calculating time and distance so that they will reach a watering
place about noon. There the sheep are watered and then they start back
again towards the station, where they arrive an hour or so before
sunset, and are shut up in a yard for the night.
"The shepherds do their own cooking, and once a week one of them comes
to the head station to be supplied with provisions. Our host explained
to us that one shepherd was sufficient for a flock, but the life was so
lonely that a man would not stick to it, if left alone, and they had to
have two men in order to keep each other company. I can well understand
how wearisome it would be to have nobody to speak to for days at a time,
and one of the last occupations I would wish to engage in is that of
shepherd.
"Wool raising is a very large industry in Cape Colony, and it certainly
has been a very profitable one. Our host told us that if a man could
avoid accidents and misfortunes, he would find the business very
remunerative; but, of course, misfortunes are pretty sure to come. He
told us further, that nearly all the sheep farmers of South Africa had
started into the business as poor men, and, while none of them were
millionaires, there were some that were very near being so. He gave some
statistics of the wool trade, but I have mislaid the sheet of paper
containing them, and so cannot give them to you."
On their return from the excursion to the sheep farm, our friends
learned that a steamer of the Orient line had just arrived, and would
leave at noon the next day for Australia. Dr. Whitney decided to take
passage on this steamer, and the matter was very quickly arranged.
When the great ship left the harbor of Cape Town, our friends stood on
her deck and were deeply interested in the scene about them. As they
steamed out around the breakwater, they had a fine view of Table Bay and
the mountains that surround it. Then they passed a series of cliff-like
mountains, known as the Twelve Apostles, and after them some brightly
colored mountains that had a dazzling appearance in the bright sunlight.
Thirty miles from Cape Town they passed the famous Cape of Good Hope,
which is popularly but erroneously supposed to be the southern end of
the continent; the fact is that the point of Africa nearest to the South
Pole is Cape Agulhas, sixty or seventy miles away from the Cape of Good
Hope.
Down to Cape Agulhas the steamer had followed the coast line. Now it
steered away from the coast, and gradually the mountains of the
southern end of Africa faded and became dim in the distance, and
gradually disappeared altogether from sight. Our friends were now upon
the great Southern Ocean, which sweeps entirely around this part of the
globe.
"We have a long voyage before us now," said Harry to Ned; "we have
sixteen days of steaming, so one of the officers tells me, before we
reach the coast of Australia."
"Well, if that is the case," Ned answered, "we have plenty of time to
become acquainted with the Southern Ocean. I wonder if it will be very
different from the Atlantic."
"As to that," replied Harry, "I don't know, but I have no doubt it has
peculiarities of its own. We will see about that later."
Flocks of birds accompanied the ship as it steamed away from the coast.
Some were familiar sights to our young friends, and some were new to
them, or comparatively so. The next day and the few succeeding days made
them acquainted with several birds that they had never seen, and the
boys were so interested in them that Harry wrote a description, which we
will presently consider. But before doing so, however, we will look at a
note which Ned made concerning the waves of the Southern Ocean.
"The waves of this part of the boundless waste of waters that covers
three fourths of the globe," said Ned, in his journal, "are the largest
we have ever seen. The prevailing winds are westerly, and the captain
tells us that they drive a continuous series of waves right around the
globe. You have heard of the long swell of the Pacific, but it is not,
at least in the Northern Hemisphere, anywhere equal to the immense
swells of the Southern Ocean. I have never seen waves that began to be
as large. The captain says that the crests are often thirty feet high,
and three hundred and ninety feet apart. Sir James Ross, in his
Antartic expedition, measured waves thirty-six feet high, and said that
when two ships were in the hollows of two adjoining waves, their hulls
were completely concealed from each other by the crest of water between
them. This great steamer, measuring nearly five thousand tons, is rolled
and tossed as if it were nothing more than an egg-shell, and such of the
passengers as are liable to seasickness are staying below out of sight.
Fancy what it must be to sail on this ocean in a small craft of one
hundred or two hundred tons! I think I would prefer to be on shore."
And now we come to Harry's account of the birds. He wrote as follows:--
"Dr. Whitney says that I must make a distinction between land birds,
coast birds, and ocean birds. Land birds are only at sea by accident;
coast birds are seen only in the neighborhood of the land, but ocean
birds go far out at sea, and rarely visit the land except during their
breeding season. When you see a land bird out of sight of the shore, you
can know that he has been driven there by the wind; perhaps in a squall
or rain storm. The doctor tells me that we can make a general
distinction between the three kinds of birds, by remembering that the
more the bird lives on the land, the more he flaps his wings, and most
land birds flap their wings constantly. A few, like the eagle, condor,
and other birds of prey, sail about and flap their wings occasionally,
but the true ocean birds, as a rule, flap their wings very little.
"An interesting flyer that we have seen is the frigate bird, also called
the man-of-war bird, which appears to me to be a good deal of a pirate,
as it makes the most of its living by robbing others. When another bird
has caught a fish the frigate bird attacks him, and takes away his
prize, catching it in the air as it falls from the victim's claws. These
birds follow the steamer or fly in the air above it, and they seem to go
along very easily, although the ship is running at full speed. I am told
that, on the previous voyage of this ship, some of the sailors caught
two of these birds and marked them by attaching strips of white cloth to
their feet. Then the birds were set free, and they followed the steamer
four or five days without any apparent fatigue.
"Of course we have seen 'Mother Carey's Chickens.' These tireless little
fellows, that never seem to rest, are found in all parts of the world of
waters. They have been constantly about us, flying around the ship but
never settling upon it, and dipping occasionally into the waters behind
us to gather up crumbs or particles of food. The other birds, which are
all much larger, would like to deprive them of their sustenance, but
they do not have the quickness of the little flyers on the wing. When
anything is thrown overboard, they dart as quick as a flash under the
noses of the larger and more clumsy birds, and pick up a mouthful or
two before the latter can reach them. Then there are whale birds, and
cape pigeons, and also the cape dove, which is somewhat larger than the
pigeon, and is also known as the 'fulmar petrel.'
"But the most interesting as well as the largest of all the ocean birds
is the albatross. There are two or three kinds of this bird; the largest
of them has a spread of wing varying from twelve to fifteen feet, and
one has been caught measuring seventeen feet from tip to tip. With
outspread wings, his body, as he sails about in the air, looks as large
as a barrel, but when stripped of its feathers its size diminishes very
much. We offered to pay a good price to the sailors if they would catch
an albatross for us, but they declined our proposal to catch one, and
when a passenger one day wanted to shoot one which was directly over the
steamer, the sailors objected. We finally induced them to compromise the
matter by catching an albatross and letting it go unharmed.
"They baited a hook with a piece of pork which was attached to a long
line, and then allowed to tow behind the steamer. We were doomed to
disappointment, as the albatross, that was then flying with the ship,
refused to touch the bait, and it was taken up by a frigate bird. It is
said that the albatross is very difficult to catch, as he is exceedingly
wary, and constantly on the lookout for tricks. I am told that a live
albatross standing on the deck of the ship is a very handsome bird. His
back is white, his wings are brown, he has a fine head, carries himself
with great dignity, and has a grand eye and countenance. The bird has a
pink beak and pretty streaks of a rose color on the cheeks. After death
these colors disappear, and are not to be seen in the stuffed specimens
such as are found in museums. A good-sized albatross weighs about twenty
pounds, though, as before stated, he looks very much larger.
"The wonderful thing about this bird is the way he sustains himself in
the air. He sails along above the ship, though she may be steaming
fifteen or sixteen miles an hour, but he does it all with very little
motion. Three or four times in an hour he may give one or two flaps of
his wings, and that is all; the rest is all steady sailing. The
outspread wings sustain the bird, and carry him forward at the same
time. If any man ever invents a successful flying machine, I think he
will do so by studying the movements of the albatross. It is proper to
say that this bird is not at all courageous, and often gives up the fish
that he catches to the piratical frigate bird. It lives mostly on fish,
and is very fond of the carcass of a dead whale, and they tell me that
the longer the whale has been dead, the better does the albatross like
it.
"The superstition of the sailors about its being bad luck to kill an
albatross is not by any means a new one. It is referred to by old
writers, and you will find it mentioned in Coleridge's 'Ancient
Mariner.'
"We have seen a great many flying fish during our voyage, but as we have
seen them before, they are not a great curiosity. The flying motion of
this fish is more fanciful than real. He does not soar in the air like a
bird, but simply leaps from the crest of one wave to the crest of
another. He makes a single dash through the air, and that is all.
Sometimes, when a ship is in the hollow between two waves and the flying
fish is attempting to make his way across, he falls on the deck of the
vessel, but he rarely gets more than fifteen or eighteen feet into the
air, and therefore does not reach the deck of a big steamer like this.
"Flying fish seem to fly when disturbed by big fishes, or, possibly, by
the commotion that a vessel creates in going through the water. There is
a good deal of dispute as to how long the flying fish can stay out of
water, and the longest time I have heard any one give to it is thirty
seconds. Some say that the flying fish can stay in the air only while
its wings are wet, but that is a point on which I do not care to give
any opinion, for the simple reason that I don't know."
Ned and Harry had kept the nautical instruments which they carried over
the deserts of Northern Africa, and they amused themselves by taking
daily observations and calculating the ship's position. Sometimes they
were wrong, and sometimes they were right, Ned naively remarking that
"the wrongs didn't count." The first officer of the ship gave them some
assistance in their nautical observations, and, altogether, they got
along very well.
Our friends made the acquaintance of some of their fellow-passengers and
found them very agreeable. The majority were residents of Australia or
New Zealand, who had been on visits to England and were now returning
home. The youths learned a great deal concerning the country whither
they were bound, and the goodly portion of the information they received
was of practical value to them. They made copious notes of what they
heard, and some of the information that they gleaned will appear later
in these pages.
In due time they sighted the coast of Australia at its western
extremity, known as Cape Leeuwin, but the sight was not especially
picturesque, as the mountains around the cape are of no great height.
After passing Cape Leeuwin, the steamer held her course steadily to the
west, gradually leaving the shore out of sight. She was passing along
the front of what is called the Great Australian Bight, an indentation
in the land twelve hundred miles long, and bounded on the north by a
region of desolation.
"It is a desolate coast," said one of the passengers to Harry, "and is
so destitute of water that no settlements have or can be made upon it.
Mr. Eyre, who was afterwards governor of Jamaica, endeavored to explore
that coast, and had a terrible time of it. He was an entire year making
the journey of twelve hundred miles, and suffered the most terrible
hardships."