To me the dead animals, which helped to give the place a charnel-house-like smell, were very horrible.
The farmers, with their wives and daughters, appeared to find something very attractive in the exhibition. If I had been brought up as a butcher, the scraped pigs, covered with rosettes and holding apples in their mouths, might have been more beautiful than a Turner landscape.
The Museum was more interesting, as it contained many relics and drawings of the now extinct aboriginals of Tasmania.
At this point in my travels I said good-bye to Peter Dodd and the Major, who went to India, or somewhere, and I picked up new acquaintances whom I will presently introduce.
NEW ZEALAND; OR, THE LAND OF THE MAORIS AND MOAS.
Japan and New Zealand are in many respects reflections of each other. The northern island of New Zealand corresponds in position and shape to Yezo, while the southern island is like the main island of this country. Nemuro is represented by Auckland, Hakodate by Wellington, Yokohama and Tokyo by Lyttelton and Christchurch, and Nagasaki by Dunedin. I ought to be paid for this suggestion, for it saves the buying of an atlas.
The northern island of New Zealand is the chief centre for the aboriginal Maoris, just as Yezo is the home of the aboriginal Aino. The mountains of New Zealand, like those of Japan, are chiefly on the western side of the island, and it is on this side of both countries that there is the greatest precipitation of rain and snow. Mount Cook, the highest mountain in New Zealand, is approximately the same height as Fujisan, the highest mountain in Japan. In both countries there are earthquakes, volcanoes, and hot springs, and each is equally celebrated for its beautiful scenery. In these and other respects New Zealand and Japan have a close resemblance to each other. That two distant countries should have so many points in common is certainly very remarkable. As with other countries, there are naturally many points of dissimilarity. New Zealand has an enormous foreign debt, a small population; it is a country practically without a history, and if we except the birds, a rat, a bat, and a lizard, it is without vertebrate animals. In all these and other respects Japan is exactly the reverse of New Zealand. Notwithstanding all this, the similarities between these two countries are so abnormally great that the attention of a resident in either of these lands cannot fail to have his attention attracted to them. Of course, neither New Zealand nor Japan are like Africa or Patagonia. For these reasons, and from the fact that many old residents from this country have settled in New Zealand, I venture to give an account of what I saw and did in that country. My notes in many instances may be taken cum grano salis.
My experience with New Zealand commenced on board the ship which took me to that country. This was one of the Union Steamship Company’s boats, which practically hold the monopoly of the New Zealand trade. I sailed from Melbourne viâ Hobart. The larger of these boats are continually making circular trips from Melbourne to the Bluff and Dunedin, round the New Zealand ports, to Auckland and Sydney, and then back to Melbourne; or else, commencing at Sydney, they circulate in the opposite direction. The smaller boats trade hither and thither along the coast of New Zealand. The Union Company has done much for New Zealand, and New Zealand has done much for the Union Company. If you take a ticket for the round trip, which lasts about twenty days, you pay £21, or about £1 per day; but if you take a trip between two coast ports, only a few hours distant, you may pay £2 or £3. Some of the boats are extremely nice in their arrangements, having electric lights, a fair supply of bathing accommodation, and all the fixings and appliances found in modern steamships. Some go so far as Thomson’s sounders and compasses. It was sometimes interesting to hear discussions on these instruments. One day in the smoking-room, a naval officer was talking with one of the ship’s officers about Sir William’s inventions.
‘Oh,’ said the man of war, ‘I know Sir William. Once I was staying at a house, and they told me there was a very clever man coming. You wouldn’t think much of him to look at. One of these old men with specs. But he can do anything, you know. Want a compass? He just takes a bit of paper and a pencil and invents the best compass ever made; and does it all with x, you know. All the same with the sounder. Want a good electric light—and he does it with x again, you know. He can’t do ordinary rule of three and that sort of thing. When he went to America to calculate about the electric cable, he took an old man to do his sums for him. The only time he is happy is when he is making fiddle-holes or chasing.’