Kitabı oku: «Under the Southern Cross», sayfa 16
CHAPTER XIII
The City of Dunedin. – Scotch Residents. – The Enchanter's Wand. – Chain-Cable Tramways. – Volcanic Effects. – The Salvation Army. – Local Gold-Fields. – Enormous Aggregate Product. – Trees and Flowers. – The Rabbit Pest. – Port Littleton. – Market Day in Christchurch. – An Interesting City. – Wonderful Extinct Bird. – Strange Record of an Unknown Race. – The New Zealand Forests.
We sailed from the Bluff at sunset on our return from Invercargill, having a boisterous voyage of fourteen hours to Dunedin, the chief city of Otago District, and indeed the chief city of New Zealand, if we make the number of inhabitants and the wealth of the place a criterion of comparison. Port Chalmers, situated a few miles below Dunedin, forms an outer harbor, so to speak; but vessels drawing twenty feet of water moor at the city wharves at high tide. We were told that the channel from the sea to the town was to be deepened so as to admit of vessels reaching the wharves at all stages of the tide, and that dredging for this purpose would begin at once. The lower harbor is land-locked, being surrounded by hills which slope gracefully down to the water's edge, the general conformation here recalling the scenery about the Lakes of Killarney. All the way up the river from Port Chalmers, a distance of nine miles, the banks are dotted with pleasant rural residences, picturesque acclivities, and low wooded ranges. Here and there were seen broad fields of grain and rich pastures, with domestic cattle grazing, and a few score of choice sheep, – the whole forming an aspect of rural thrift and peaceful abundance. If, as was the case in our instance, the tide is too low to admit of the steamers going up to the town, one can land at the Port and proceed to Dunedin by rail, – an opportunity which was gladly availed of, as we had "enjoyed" quite enough of sea-travel for some weeks at least.
The cities of both Australia and New Zealand have a habit of locating themselves among and upon a collection of hills, up the sides of which the houses creep in a very picturesque manner. Dunedin is no exception to this rule, rising rather abruptly from the plateaux where are the wharves and business centre of the town, to the summit of the foot-hills about which it lies. The town is more undulating in its conformation than Hobart, so lately described. A portion of the level plain near the shore, upon which broad streets and fine substantial blocks of buildings now stand, consists of made land, redeemed at great expense and trouble from the shallow water front. This whole section is as level as a dining-table. Heavy shipping business cannot well be conducted on a hillside; therefore the construction of this plateau was a necessity, as the town grew in size and extended its commercial relations. A couple of mountains close at hand, each of which is considerably over two thousand feet in height, dominate the city.
The Scottish character of the early settlers of Dunedin, as well as that of the present population, is emphasized by the names of its twenty odd miles of well-lighted and well-paved streets, of which nearly all the names are borrowed from the familiar thoroughfares of Edinburgh. The only monumental statue in the town is that of Scotland's beloved poet, Robert Burns, which is situated before the Town Hall, in a small enclosure. The first settlement here was as late as 1848, by a colony nearly every member of which came from Scotland, from which source the city has continued to draw many of its citizens. The Scottish brogue salutes the ear everywhere; the Scottish physiognomy is always prominent to the eye; indeed, there are several prevailing indications which cause one half to believe himself in Aberdeen, Glasgow, or Dundee. This is by no means unpleasant. There is a solid, reliable appearance to everything; people are rosy-cheeked, hearty, and good to look at; there is a spirit of genuineness impregnating the very atmosphere, quite wanting in many places named in these pages.
The wand of the enchanter touched the place in 1861, from which date it took a fresh start upon the road of prosperity. It was caused by gold being discovered in large quantities near at hand, and from that date Dunedin has grown in population and wealth with almost unprecedented rapidity. Large substantial stone edifices have sprung up on all the main thoroughfares devoted to business purposes, – banks, public offices, churches, store-houses, and schools, – giving a substantial aspect quite unmistakable. Numerous large buildings of white freestone were in course of erection while we were in the city, the material being brought from a neighboring quarry. This stone very much resembles that which we found in such general use in Tasmania; it is very easily worked, but rapidly hardens upon exposure to the atmosphere.
The market gardening for the supply of vegetables to the citizens of Dunedin was found to be carried on in the immediate vicinity by the Chinese, just as it is in and about the cities of Australia. No one attempts to compete with them in this line of occupation. There was found to be here about the same relative number of Asiatics as elsewhere among these South Sea colonies, and a small section of the town is devoted to their headquarters.
There are numerous tramways in this capital, the cable principle being adopted in most of them. Dunedin, indeed, was the first town in Australasia to adopt this improved motor; and although horsepower is still employed upon some of the thoroughfares, the former mode has the preference both in point of cleanliness and economy, – besides which, horses could not draw heavily-laden cars up some of the steep streets of Dunedin. The sensation when riding on one of these cable roads up or down a steep grade in the city, was much the same as when ascending or descending the Rigi in Switzerland, by means of the same unseen motor. The car is promptly stopped anywhere to land or take in a passenger, by the simple movement of a lever, and is as easily started again. There is no painful struggle of horse-flesh to start forward again after each stop. The powerful stationary engine situated a mile away, by means of the chains beneath the road-bed, quietly winds the car up the declivity, however heavily it may be laden, without the least slacking of power, irregularity of motion, or any visible exertion of force. It seemed to us that no better motor could possibly be devised, especially when rising grounds are to be surmounted. The principle is well demonstrated in some of the steepest avenues in San Francisco, where cable tramways have long been successfully operated.
Dunedin has two capacious theatres; also a public library containing about thirty thousand volumes, attached to which is a cheerful reading-room supplied with all the best magazines and journals of the times, including several of the most popular of our American issues.
Not to contain a Botanical Garden within its limits would be for the place to take a retrograde step among its sister colonial cities; and so Dunedin has a very creditable one, with many exotic trees and plants, which have readily adapted themselves to the climate. Among these there were observed some beautiful larches, junipers, cypresses, Chinese gingko-trees, Irish yews, Indian cedars, American birches, and many magnificent tree-ferns. Mingled with these were flower-beds of heath, laurestinus, daphne, and yellow gorse, all in gorgeous bloom, though it was mid-winter. The daphnes had both blossom and red berries upon their stems at the same time. The palm-like cabbage-tree is indigenous, and imparts an aspect of Equatorial Africa to the whole. To us there is a pleasing revelation in these trees and plants, however simple they may be in themselves. There is a refinement, a delicacy of taste, a love of the beautiful in Nature evinced in all such gathering of the products of widespread countries and different hemispheres, and placing them in juxtaposition. Wonderful are the lovely contrasts and striking natural peculiarities presented to the eye in so comparatively a small compass. Time was when one must travel the wide world over to see these arboreal representatives of varied climes; now they may be enjoyed in an afternoon stroll through the flower-decked paths of some local botanical garden.
Real appreciation looks deeper than the surface; there are stories and legends always ready to be whispered into the ear of the inquiring traveller. These singularly formed hills about Dunedin are not mere barren rocks; they have their suggestiveness, speaking of volcanic eruptions, of wild prehistoric upheavals dating back for many thousands of years. Scientists tell us these islands are of the earliest earth formations. The ground upon which this city stands, like that of Auckland farther north, is composed of the fiery outflow of volcanic matter.
It goes without saying that Dunedin has all the usual educational and philanthropic institutions which a community of fifty thousand people demand in our day. Especially is it well supplied with educational advantages, which seem to be conscientiously improved by the rising generation. The sum expended upon the public schools by the Government is very large; the exact amount is not now remembered, but we recollect being impressed with the fact that it was remarkable for a community of no greater numbers. Throughout New Zealand there are over eight hundred registered public schools of the various grades. The public buildings, notably the University, High School, Provincial Council Hall, and the Presbyterian Church, – this last of a very white stone, nearly as white as marble, – are all imposing and elegant structures.
These cities have not escaped the nuisance of the "Salvation Army," whose principal arguments consist of instrumental noise and torchlight parades. Here in Dunedin, as in Sydney and Melbourne, Auckland and elsewhere in the colonies, they constitute a chronic bore. They are composed of about one third women, and two thirds men and boys; the women beat crazy tambourines, wear poke bonnets, and sing aloud in cracked voices, while the men form themselves into instrumental bands, and produce the most hideous discord. These designing, or deluded, creatures tramp through the streets, in rain or shine, howling and uttering meaningless shouts until they are hoarse. The authorities do not interfere with such demonstrations, though they are clearly a public nuisance; but the mob deride and jeer them. Doubtless the persistent and remarkable exhibitions indulged in by these noisy religionists attract the vulgar imagination, and make followers if not converts. The public house at which we were stopping – the Grand Hotel – faces upon Prince's Street, which is the principal thoroughfare of the city, and in which is a square, ornamented by a monument erected to the memory of Captain William Cargill, the leading pioneer of this region. About the base of this well-lighted monument, it being night, a band of Salvationists were alternately playing upon brass instruments and singing hymns while we were endeavoring to write. The impression was thus strongly forced upon us that this open-air piety, this noisy and gratuitous religious serenading is more disagreeable than efficacious for good.
Having spoken of the Grand Hotel of Dunedin, let us add that it is one of the best houses of public entertainment we have found in all Australasia. It is a large, elegantly-appointed freestone building, under admirable management, – a little in advance perhaps of the present requirements of the city, but the population is rapidly increasing, to which end a first-class hotel largely contributes by attracting strangers and making their visit agreeable in all that conduces to their domestic comfort.
Within about seventy-five miles of Dunedin are some of the most productive gold-fields in the country. Gabriel's Gulch, so called, has proved to be a mint of the precious metal so rich that all the tailings of the diggings which have been once worked at a handsome profit, are just being submitted to a second and more scientific process in order to obtain the gold which is known still to remain in them. The amount of these tailings in gross weight is doubtless hundreds of thousands of tons; what percentage of gold to the ton will be realized, remains to be seen. An interested party informed us that it was confidently expected that more profit would be obtained by this second treatment than had been realized by the first. Some average samples sent to England for scientific treatment yielded at the rate of two ounces and one half of gold to the ton of tailings. If even two ounces can be realized, these diggings of Gabriel's Gulch will prove a Bonanza indeed.
New Zealand in proportion is nearly as rich in gold deposits as is Australia, and the precious metal is found under very nearly the same conditions; that is, in quartz reefs and in alluvial deposits. Much gold has been found here in what are termed pockets, under bowlders and large stones that lie on the sandy beach of the west coast. This gold is popularly believed to have been washed up out of the sea in heavy weather; but undoubtedly it was first washed down from the mountains by the rivers, and deposited along the shore. Official returns show that New Zealand has produced over fifty million pounds sterling in gold, or two hundred and fifty million dollars, since its first discovery there. Besides Europeans there are several thousand Chinese engaged in mining for gold; and here as in Australia these Asiatics work upon such claims and such tailings as have been abandoned by others.
Fern-trees abound in and about Dunedin, often growing to a height of thirty feet, with noble coronals of leaves, – far more effective and graceful than the fan-palm which is seen in such abundance at Singapore, Penang, and in Equatorial regions. The fuchsias grow to mammoth proportions and to a giant height here. We have never seen this favorite so large elsewhere, with one exception, – in the Summer Gardens of St. Petersburg, where an exotic plant of this beautiful flowering shrub had grown to the size of a tree, twenty feet high. About the suburban residences of this colonial capital laburnums, roses, laurels, and lilies abound, blooming all the year round. Innumerable exotics have been brought hither, and as was remarked to us by a citizen who was exhibiting a fine display on his own grounds, "the plant that will not thrive in New Zealand in any month of the year with ordinary care, out of doors, is yet to be found." This gentleman showed us a tiny flower in bloom, so like the Swiss edelweiss that we asked whence it came, and learned that it is a native of the mountain regions of New Zealand. It was surely an edelweiss, the simple but beautiful betrothal flower of the European Alps. It has a different name here, which we cannot recall. As to trees, the elm, beech, willow, fir, ash, and oak have so long been introduced from England, have been so multiplied, and have grown to such proportions, that they seem native here. Botanists tell us that there are not quite fifty different species of trees in England; but we are assured by equally good authority that there are a hundred and fifty different species found in New Zealand, – an assertion we could easily believe after having been in the country a few weeks, and enjoyed the beauty of its abundant forests.
When Captain Cook first came hither, he fully understood the cannibal habits of the native race, and desired to take some practical steps toward discouraging and effacing such inhuman practices. Upon his second visit, therefore, he introduced swine and some other domestic animals, including goats, in the vain hope that they would ultimately supply sufficient animal food for the savages and divert them from such wholesale roasting and eating of one another. The goats and some other animals were soon slaughtered and eaten, but the swine to a certain extent answered the purpose which Captain Cook had in view. That is to say, they ran wild, multiplied remarkably, and were hunted and eaten by the natives; but cannibalism was by no means abolished or even appreciably checked. Wild hogs are still quite abundant throughout the Northern Island, springing from the original animals introduced years ago.
With equally good intent, though not for a similar purpose, in later years rabbits were introduced into the country, but have in the mean time so multiplied as to become a terrible pest, consuming every green thing which comes in their way. "Like locusts they devour everything that grows out of the ground," said a stock farmer to us, "and would if left to themselves soon eat the sheep out of the fields." The flesh is recognized as good and suitable to eat, but it is so abundant that it is held in small repute, the skins only as a rule being preserved, and the carcasses left on the ground where they are killed, to be consumed by hawks and other carrion-eating birds. When brought to market, as they are daily, the retail price of rabbits is two pairs for sixpence, the seller retaining the skins and receiving the bounty paid by Government for their destruction. We were told that London and Paris are the largest consumers of the rabbit-skins, being freely used by the glove-makers for the manufacture of a certain grade of gloves. We also saw large cases of the skins securely packed and addressed to merchants in Vienna and Berlin. Thousands of bales of rabbit-skins are annually exported; indeed, so extensive is this trade that there is a large commercial room established in Dunedin called the Rabbit-Skin Exchange, where the article is bought and sold in enormous quantities. Thirty-five miles inland from this city, the author has seen by moonlight a whole sloping hillside which seemed to be moving, so completely was it covered by these little furry quadrupeds. They are poisoned, shot, trapped, and killed with clubs, but still so rapidly do they breed that there is no visible diminution of their numbers.
From Dunedin to Christchurch by sea is about two hundred miles, or the trip may be made by sail via Oamaru and Timaree. The harbor of Littleton, which stands in the same relation to Christchurch as Port Chalmers does to Dunedin, is a thoroughly sheltered deep bay, surrounded by a range of hills on three sides, – hills of cliff-like character rising abruptly out of the sea. Beyond those are higher elevations, their tops covered with snow, which the sun tinged with silvery hues as we sailed up the channel on a bright July morning. The surroundings are delightfully picturesque, the entrance to the harbor being as narrow as the harbor of Havana. It is formed by two breakwaters extending from opposite sides toward each other, each of which is over a thousand feet in length. Two huge dredging-machines were seen busily at work deepening the channel, so that vessels drawing not over twenty-two feet of water can lie at the wharves and discharge cargo. The spirit of commercial enterprise was very manifest here.
It was as late as the year 1850 that the first settlement was made at Christchurch, when a considerable company of immigrants, since called the "Canterbury Pilgrims," came from Liverpool intending to form a community devoted to the Church of England. This design however was only partially carried out, though Christchurch is the chief seat of the Church of England in New Zealand, and has a magnificent cathedral testifying to the design of the original founders. It is said that the first people who arrived freely expressed their disappointment when they climbed the hills of Littleton and looked off upon the Canterbury Plains, with scarce a tree or shrub upon them, and not even a hillock to break the dull monotony of the brown tussock and low clumps of wild flax. A little over thirty years have since passed, and how different is the view to-day! Those lonely, dreary plains are now covered with thrifty farms, divided by broad fields of grain and well-fenced orchards, dotted here and there with pleasant homesteads surrounded by ornamental trees and blooming gardens, while as the centre and motive of it all there lies in the foreground, close at hand, Christchurch, the cheerful and populous City of the Plains. The lonely aspect of thirty years ago has given place to one instinct with busy life and modern civilization.
Littleton with its four thousand inhabitants is a most active and intensely busy seaport. We were not prepared to find so much shipping lying at its wharves. The long piers which are built out from the shore are lined with foreign and coasting steamers, and are also laid with iron rails connecting with the railroad which runs into the interior. Thus freight is brought in the cars alongside of the shipping, and it requires only a hoisting apparatus to fill rapidly with freight the hold of the largest vessel. The export of New Zealand produce from Littleton in 1886 reached the aggregate of nearly two million pounds sterling, and the revenue collected during the same year was two hundred thousand pounds sterling. The harbor is overlooked by a castellated signal-tower, situated upon a lofty cliff; and the town itself is terraced over the hillsides after the usual style of the colonies. Nothing could be more striking to the eye upon entering the harbor from the sea than these cliff residences.
Littleton is connected with Christchurch by a railroad, the tunnel for which is cut directly through the surrounding range of hills, which are almost worthy of the name of mountains. The tunnel is considerably over a mile in length. When this means of surmounting the great impediment presented by the hills was first suggested, it met with serious opposition, as being far too expensive an enterprise for so young a colony to undertake. So it was for a while given up; but as the colony grew in numbers, and produce for shipment poured into Christchurch, the necessity of the railroad was more and more fully realized. Without it, all exports by the way of the port of Littleton must be hauled by animal power over the hills at great expense. Finally the road was authorized; and once being determined upon, it was quickly built, at a cost of over one million dollars.
Having penetrated the range of hills by means of this grand improvement, one emerges into a broad level country, and passes through an agricultural district which is under a high state of cultivation, beautified here and there by pleasant rural residences, gardens, and wooded reaches. The land is divided into convenient lots and separated by tall hedges of gorse, blooming in all its gaudy yellow splendor, and impregnating the atmosphere with a sweetness which belied the season, seeming rather to belong to the balmy days of early spring. Eight miles of rail brings us to the outlying portions of Christchurch.
This metropolis of the Canterbury Plains is located upon ground as level as a chessboard, its broad streets intersecting one another with almost painful regularity and precision, but lined with fine substantial stone buildings, and rendered attractive by many shops displaying a great variety of goods. These avenues are full of busy life; horse-railroads, freight-wagons, coaches, and cabs are constantly passing before the eyes. The day of our arrival chanced to be that of the monthly races, and all the world of Christchurch and its environs had turned out to enjoy a holiday. Some of the shops were closed at noon, that all might participate in this gala occasion. Four-horse teams, with long ranges of extra seats rigged for the purpose, started from the public square laden with male passengers, the vehicles bearing great placards reading, "To the Races for one shilling." One might have imagined oneself in New York or London, so rushing was the tide of life through Cashel Street and Cathedral Square.
The Public Garden of Christchurch is situated in a bend of the river Avon, on the western side of the city, about five minutes' walk from the business centre of the town. It occupies some eight or ten acres of land laid out in tasteful style. That portion which adjoins the river is lined with a beautiful border of weeping willows. A system is adopted in arranging the plants whereby all of a hardy nature are placed by themselves, the tropical vegetation being arranged together in the same manner; the plants indigenous to Japan, China, India, Australia, and Great Britain form each a group by themselves. This is called the geographical order, and has some advantages; but in adhering to such an arbitrary rule of adjustment, picturesqueness of effect must often be sacrificed. This whole collection of plants is of considerable beauty and scientific interest, though the garden is yet in its infancy, being less than twenty years old; but it is yearly undergoing much improvement.
A city built upon a perfect level is very rarely seen either in Australia or New Zealand, though there are exceptions, as in the case of Adelaide. Such a site is by no means so pleasant to the eye, albeit there are many practical advantages gained thereby. One feels shut up as it were in these long level reaches; the abrupt hills of Sydney, Dunedin, or San Francisco are preferable, even if often inconvenient. Nevertheless Christchurch is a pleasing, prosperous, and rapidly growing city, with much architectural beauty in its thoroughfares. As the commercial outlet of a broad-spread, fertile, and easily accessible district, it must continue to prosper commercially. Saturday is an especially attractive day here, when the country people – both men and women – from considerable distances come to town to dispose of their produce in the open market. The variety and excellence of meats, vegetables, fruits, and flowers accumulated here on such occasions is worthy of any large capital city. There is a conglomerate of humanity drawn together on this busy day of the week, which turns the streets and squares into a sort of out-door fair. We observed none of that abandon and careless dissipation which characterizes Melbourne on Saturdays; and yet Christchurch does not lack for an ample class who make pleasure-seeking a regular occupation.
At the Museum in this city a most interesting and perfect skeleton of that great prehistoric bird the Moa was seen, – a bird which was indigenous in New Zealand, and which is believed to have been extinct for about two thousand years, probably disappearing before any human beings came to these islands. The Maori Indians can be traced back but six or seven hundred years, and only very imperfectly during that period. They are believed to have come from the islands lying in the more northerly Pacific, presumably from the Sandwich or Hawaiian group. Even the traditions of these natives fail to give us any account of this gigantic bird while living; but its bones are found in various sections of the country, principally in caves, and from these we must "gather and surmise." What is left of the Moa to-day is quite sufficient to form the greatest ornithological wonder in the world. The head of this reconstructed skeleton in the Museum of Christchurch stands sixteen feet from the ground, and its various proportions are all of a character to harmonize with its remarkable height. This skeleton shows the marvellous bird to have been, when standing upright, six feet taller than the average full-grown camelopard. It belonged to the Titans who dwelt upon the earth perhaps twenty or thirty thousand years ago, in the period of the Mastodon and the Dodo. What Niagara is to ordinary waterfalls, the Moa was to all the bird-tribe. It was a long time before incredulous scientists could be induced to admit these interesting facts, but the tangible evidence now existing in the Museum of this New Zealand city is indisputable. This Museum owes its great excellence and admirable scientific arrangement to Dr. Von Haast, the famous geologist and early explorer of New Zealand, and forms a worthy monument to his great fame in the world of science.
Some writers who have made a study of the subject are inclined to believe that the Moa was still existing when the first of the Maoris arrived in New Zealand; but this is only a supposition. It is an open question, indeed, whether the Maoris were or were not the first human beings to tread the soil of these islands. There is sufficient evidence relating to this subject to whet the appetite of conjecture, but not to satisfy it. In the Takiroa caves of the South Island in the Waitaki Valley, and in a sheltered rocky glen or half cave near Canterbury, there are certain crude rock-paintings which are a puzzle to savants. These consist of figures representing men, birds, beasts, fishes, snakes, altars, and weapons, crude indeed as to design, but recognizable. The Maoris know nothing of their origin, and in the present light of the history of that race there is nothing which leads to the belief of these rock-paintings being of Maori production; in fact there seems to be sufficient evidence to prove their greater antiquity. The present natives have never been rock-painters, not possessing for this the requisite skill, though they have always been carvers in wood after a rude fashion. There seems to be some consecutive meaning in these rock illustrations, though what is designed to be indicated cannot be made out by careful and experienced men who have come hither from Europe solely to examine them. They are indelibly painted in red and black on the face of the rock, which is composed of calcareous sandstone. Close examination of the various figures shows that they are underlaid by others, which have either worn away under atmospheric influences, or have been partially obliterated by hand to make place for those which now are prominently visible. Writing in hieroglyphics is not the accomplishment of savages, but argues at least a semi-civilized condition. So do the colossal statues of Easter Island (South Pacific), which were never created by any such race of people as the present savage inhabitants; and yet these tribes have no traditions even of any previous residents of their island. It is the world to them, or rather was until Europeans first visited the place.
