All round the coast the soil is intensely fertile, and produces food in abundance for the whole population, which is nowhere very dense save in the two large cities. These two are in fact the only towns of any size in the whole peninsula, with the exception of Fúfani, situated at the head of a broad inlet of the southern coast. These southern shores are mostly rocky with huge beetling cliffs that recall the iron-bound shores of Capri and Cornwall. Against this natural barrier the raging billows in vain hurl themselves, and as I have stood watching the storm-vexed waters from these heights, I have often been reminded of the sounding seas and foam-flecked waves I once delighted to gaze upon from the heads of Sydney harbour that oppose the whole fury of the Pacific. The northern coasts of the Region of the Sun are less romantic, and in many places the coastal zone is marked by long stretches of sand with marshes behind them. Everywhere the vegetation both of cultivated and of wild growth exhibits a close resemblance to and an evident affinity with the flora of the Earth. In fact, there appear such endless points of similarity between the natural features of Meleager and of the Earth that I have often found it difficult to realise I was not living in some hitherto undiscovered corner of my native sphere. Appreciating the vast depths of my own ignorance in all matters scientific, I declare with trepidation yet with a firm sense of conviction that the geological history and development of the two planets must have been practically identical.
Not far from Zapyro begins the long isthmus that connects the warm subtropical Region of the Sun with the great half-explored territory of the north, or Barbaria. This large tract of land is said to widen out to northward, but very little is known of its interior, which at no great distance from the coast-line is blocked by a long chain of tall mountains, many of whose rugged peaks are covered with eternal snow. Large lakes and swamps are commonly reported to lie beyond these ranges, but in reality next to nothing is known of the country sheltered behind this great natural barrier. As I have already stated, the average Meleagrian has no taste for pioneering enterprise, so he remains quite satisfied with the tales of more intrepid hunters who have penetrated thus far and speak vaguely of a barren soil, of dismal morasses and of uncouth aborigines whose manners are fully as repellent as is the aspect of the lands they inhabit. Equally the coasts of Barbaria have been little examined, except those of the Great Northern Bay and the stretch of shore running north-west of Zapyro. All this coast-line is however sprinkled with stray colonies of South Meleagrians, some of these settlements being of a permanent character, whilst others are merely occupied as temporary bases for fishing or hunting. There are also a few colonies inland to the south of the mountains, but though the whole of this district is inhabited, no systematic occupation of this warmer portion of Barbaria has ever been attempted. The colonists for the most part consist of emigrants belonging to the people, but not a few of the nobles own estates whereon they breed cattle and sheep, or utilise for growing large timber. Some marble and stone quarries are likewise worked, but all these mercantile projects are evidently carried on in a distinctly haphazard style. All the permanent inhabitants of this region are subjects of my kingdom, yet they are not all of pure blood, but must in the remote past have intermingled with the original stock of this territory, who may perhaps have belonged to the same race as the yellow-skinned prognathous tribesmen who still dwell in the unexplored and unannexed portions of Barbaria beyond the mountains. In any case, these natives of South Barbaria are fine, strong-featured people, though easily distinguishable from those of the Region of the Sun. Many men of this district travel southward to enlist as soldiers, for which their more hardy physique admirably suits them, or else to offer themselves as indentured labourers and servants for a term of years. Two members of the hierarchy are charged specially with the interests of this class of temporary immigrant, and, so far as I could ascertain, they are always treated with fairness and consideration, though they are somewhat despised by the ruling populace of the south.
I have been informed that in times past these South Barbarians have actually attempted to invade the Region of the Sun, and in proof of this tradition I noted that the isthmus near Zapyro is fortified by a military wall running across its whole breadth from sea to sea. These old fortifications are solidly built, and are still kept in admirable repair, whilst one of the regiments is always quartered here in permanent barracks. There seems however, at the present time, to be little fear or probability of a repetition of any such incursion in spite of the constant guard maintained on the isthmus.
Of the capital I have already spoken, and of its picturesque situation on the hillsides sloping to the waters of the broad deep harbour whose circular form hints at a remote volcanic origin. Owing to the absence of towers and lofty buildings the whole town wears an Oriental aspect, for the Meleagrian style of architecture strongly inclines to colonnades, low domes and flat roofs. The streets are dark and narrow, a perfect labyrinth of paved lanes, but they are kept scrupulously clean by means of an excellent system of scavenging, whilst the copious use of disinfectant liquids renders them wholesome, so that Tamarida is remarkably free from disease in all forms. The houses own little external ornament, and being all white-washed recall the Arab quarters of Algiers and Tunis. This similarity is increased by the nature of their internal arrangements, which contain courtyards, or patios, open to the sky, these spaces in the case of the richer citizens being embellished with fountains and flower-beds. A happy combination of the dwellings of the classical world as still visible at Rome or Pompeii and the architecture of Islam may best describe the type of home prevailing in Tamarida and elsewhere throughout the kingdom. The houses of the poor are smaller and less elegant, but are of the same character as those of their wealthier neighbours. There is an abundant public supply of water for each house, with fountains in every garden and open space. The instinct of family life in the two upper classes is very strong, so that it is not easy for strangers to penetrate into these compact, secluded homes, where usually only near relatives are admitted except on the occasion of a wedding or a feast. Indeed, the family itself in upper-class life offers a tiny imperium in imperio throughout the country, and this attitude of aloofness is encouraged by the hierarchy, who prefer to see all domestic suits and quarrels settled within the walls of the family mansion rather than in the court held daily in public.
Zapyro, which traditionally claims to be considered the ancient metropolis of the realm, is only about half the size of Tamarida. Its streets, though equally clean and well tended, are less animated; its market is smaller; its houses and gardens are all on a less ambitious scale; and this remark especially applies to the Temple of the Setting Sun which crowns a large rock behind the town. This sacred building, whose former ruinous condition I have lately sought to improve and have thereby acquired considerable merit in the eyes of the Zapyriotes, cannot compare in size and splendour with the magnificent fane at Tamarida. Only four members of the hierarchy reside here, and though the services connected with the hour of sunset are impressive, they are not comparable with those held in the great Temple of Tamarida. My own residence here consists of a block of buildings of moderate size, but then I only spend one month in Zapyro itself, my arrival being greeted with most flattering rejoicing on the part of the Zapyriotes, who also exhibit much despondency at the time of my departure. One peculiarity of this city is worth recording; and that is the circumstance that, unlike Tamarida, it possesses a civil governor who may not belong to the priestly caste: a fiercely cherished honour that is believed to derive from very remote ages, when royalty resided here permanently. A leading member of the nobility is always chosen from his peers for this much-coveted distinction, which also includes the right to inhabit a portion of the rather exiguous palace at Zapyro, and the duty of holding the daily court of judgment in the absence of the King. The hierarchy is said to view these privileges with disfavour, but has hitherto hesitated to abolish the office in face of the pride and jealousy the Zapyriotes display in their retention of what is after all only a slight infringement of their universal powers of rule.
With regard to the third town, Fúfani, I gather it to be a place of recent growth. It is a large rambling unattractive seaport built on the marshy flats at the head of the Gulf of Fúfani. Its population consists entirely of families of the mercantile class and the populace who are engaged in the maritime trade of the southern ocean. The growth of Fúfani was, I understand, very rapid, so that the sudden realisation of this unauthorised collection of large numbers of citizens caused much misgiving amongst the senators at Tamarida, who took measures to scatter the community thus formed against their wishes. In this aim however the hierarchy was unsuccessful, largely, it is rumoured, owing to the sympathy of the reigning king, who found in the question of Fúfani a convenient occasion for pitting his authority against that of the priesthood. Failing to induce the inhabitants of this new-sprung town to disperse themselves throughout the neighbouring districts, the priests now came to consider it the lesser of two evils to recognise Fúfani as a city, and accordingly erected a Temple of the Sun at this spot and nominated three priests to reside there. This measure has brought the people of Fúfani, who must evidently have shown some fierce spirit of opposition, if not of flat rebellion against the government, directly under the arm of the hierarchy, whose rule here is strengthened by a garrison of soldiers. I cannot help thinking it must have been my predecessor who thus encouraged the spirit of revolt, not wholly without success, at Fúfani, with the ultimate result that he "ceased to reign," as his fate is euphemistically described to me. I have so often longed to discover what is the end of undesirable or obnoxious monarchs; are they secretly murdered, I wonder, or are they confined in that sinister temple on Mount Crystal or some other retreat? Or are they merely deprived of the benefits of the Fountain of Rejuvenation, and so allowed to fall to decrepitude and old age, and finally death? What would I not give for some true guiding details of these concealed tragedies, of these unequal struggles between palace and temple! On the only occasion I have visited Fúfani I could not detect any overt sign of disaffection among the populace, though I did not fail to note the sour looks of the priests accompanying me, as we rode through the rather squalid streets of the straggling featureless town, so different in its natural setting from Tamarida or Zapyro. There is no royal residence in Fúfani, and my visit hither was undertaken from the country seat of a neighbouring nobleman, who spoke of the town and its people with contemptuous dislike.
Before bringing this meagre and feeble sketch of Meleager to a close, and before proceeding to enlarge on the more interesting subject of the Meleagrians themselves, one final point of some importance occurs to my mind. This is the matter of their coinage, or rather medium of exchange. Although barter on an extensive scale and in a very sensible manner is largely utilised amongst merchants, and wages are frequently paid in kind, a system of coinage is in general use, the currency being limited to three coins. These are the golden "bezant," rather larger than our own half-sovereign; the silver "platera," about the size of a two-franc piece; and the bronze "denar," a little bigger than a penny. Each coin bears on its face the device of the sun, and on its reverse a raised lozenge in the case of the bezant, a square of the platera, and a circle of the denar, which marks can be distinguished in the dark. As the golden bezant is worth ten silver plateras, and each silver platera again is worth ten bronze denars, a simple system of decimal coinage may be said to prevail.
VII
Having described some of the natural features of Meleager, I now propose very shortly to speak of the various functionaries and classes of the realm. These may be divided into (1) the King; (2) the Hierarchy; (3) the Nobility; (4) the Mercantile class; (5) the Populace; and (6) Indentured servants or slaves.
As the King is the first official in the state, as well as its resident incarnated deity, I shall begin by speaking of my own powers and their many limitations. I have already explained the extraordinary genesis of the King of Meleager, how he is a native of the Earth, and is consequently on his arrival here utterly ignorant of the laws, traditions, polity and ideals of his new kingdom. At the end of five years I may add it is astonishing to reflect how terribly ignorant of all these matters I still remain, not through any fault of mine, but owing to the fixed intention of my practical masters, the hierarchy, to keep me in the dark concerning many affairs of importance in the realm for which they have themselves deliberately chosen me as monarch. The Arch-priest, whom I infinitely prefer to any of his colleagues, can be a perfect Sphinx of the most provoking silence at times, although, to do him justice, he does occasionally impart information, which is invariably accurate and useful for my real guidance, whereas I cannot trust any statements made me by other members of the college. What I glean from Hiridia is of some general service certainly, but from the political standpoint it is valueless. This is not surprising, seeing that education, in the restricted meaning of that term, is practically confined to the members of the hierarchy; still, from the social side Hiridia has proved of great assistance to me in my relations with the nobles and other estates of the realm.