<h2> <SPAN name="ch18" id="ch18"></SPAN><br/> <br/> CHAPTER XVIII. </h2>
<p><small><i>The Gum Trees—Unsociable Trees—Gorse and Broom—A
universal Defect—An Adventurer—Wanted L200, got L20,000,000—A
Vast Land Scheme—The Smash-up—The Corpse Got Up and Danced—A
Unique Business by One Man—Buying the Kangaroo Skin—The
Approach to Adelaide—Everything Comes to Him who Waits—A
Healthy Religious sphere—What is the Matter with the Specter?<br/>
<br/> <br/></i></small></p>
<p><i>It is easier to stay out than get out.</i></p>
<p>—Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar.</p>
<p>The train was now exploring a beautiful hill country, and went twisting in
and out through lovely little green valleys. There were several varieties
of gum trees; among them many giants. Some of them were bodied and barked
like the sycamore; some were of fantastic aspect, and reminded one of the
quaint apple trees in Japanese pictures. And there was one peculiarly
beautiful tree whose name and breed I did not know. The foliage seemed to
consist of big bunches of pine-spines, the lower half of each bunch a rich
brown or old-gold color, the upper half a most vivid and strenuous and
shouting green. The effect was altogether bewitching. The tree was
apparently rare. I should say that the first and last samples of it seen
by us were not more than half an hour apart. There was another tree of
striking aspect, a kind of pine, we were told. Its foliage was as fine as
hair, apparently, and its mass sphered itself above the naked straight
stem like an explosion of misty smoke. It was not a sociable sort; it did
not gather in groups or couples, but each individual stood far away from
its nearest neighbor. It scattered itself in this spacious and exclusive
fashion about the slopes of swelling grassy great knolls, and stood in the
full flood of the wonderful sunshine; and as far as you could see the tree
itself you could also see the ink-black blot of its shadow on the shining
green carpet at its feet.</p>
<p>On some part of this railway journey we saw gorse and broom—importations
from England—and a gentleman who came into our compartment on a
visit tried to tell me which—was which; but as he didn't know, he
had difficulty. He said he was ashamed of his ignorance, but that he had
never been confronted with the question before during the fifty years and
more that he had spent in Australia, and so he had never happened to get
interested in the matter. But there was no need to be ashamed. The most of
us have his defect. We take a natural interest in novelties, but it is
against nature to take an interest in familiar things. The gorse and the
broom were a fine accent in the landscape. Here and there they burst out
in sudden conflagrations of vivid yellow against a background of sober or
sombre color, with a so startling effect as to make a body catch his
breath with the happy surprise of it. And then there was the wattle, a
native bush or tree, an inspiring cloud of sumptuous yellow bloom. It is a
favorite with the Australians, and has a fine fragrance, a quality usually
wanting in Australian blossoms.</p>
<p>The gentleman who enriched me with the poverty of his information about
the gorse and the broom told me that he came out from England a youth of
twenty and entered the Province of South Australia with thirty-six
shillings in his pocket—an adventurer without trade, profession, or
friends, but with a clearly-defined purpose in his head: he would stay
until he was worth L200, then go back home. He would allow himself five
years for the accumulation of this fortune.</p>
<p>"That was more than fifty years ago," said he. "And here I am, yet."</p>
<p>As he went out at the door he met a friend, and turned and introduced him
to me, and the friend and I had a talk and a smoke. I spoke of the
previous conversation and said there was something very pathetic about
this half century of exile, and that I wished the L200 scheme had
succeeded.<br/> <br/> <br/> <br/></p>
<div class="fig"> <ANTIMG alt="p178.jpg (67K)" src="images/p178.jpg" width-obs="100%" /><br/></div>
<p><br/> <br/> <br/> <br/></p>
<p>"With him? Oh, it did. It's not so sad a case. He is modest, and he left
out some of the particulars. The lad reached South Australia just in time
to help discover the Burra-Burra copper mines. They turned out L700,000 in
the first three years. Up to now they have yielded L20,000,000. He has had
his share. Before that boy had been in the country two years he could have
gone home and bought a village; he could go now and buy a city, I think.
No, there is nothing very pathetic about his case. He and his copper
arrived at just a handy time to save South Australia. It had got mashed
pretty flat under the collapse of a land boom a while before." There it is
again; picturesque history—Australia's specialty. In 1829 South
Australia hadn't a white man in it. In 1836 the British Parliament erected
it—still a solitude—into a Province, and gave it a governor
and other governmental machinery. Speculators took hold, now, and
inaugurated a vast land scheme, and invited immigration, encouraging it
with lurid promises of sudden wealth. It was well worked in London; and
bishops, statesmen, and all sorts of people made a rush for the land
company's shares. Immigrants soon began to pour into the region of
Adelaide and select town lots and farms in the sand and the mangrove
swamps by the sea. The crowds continued to come, prices of land rose high,
then higher and still higher, everybody was prosperous and happy, the boom
swelled into gigantic proportions. A village of sheet iron huts and
clapboard sheds sprang up in the sand, and in these wigwams fashion made
display; richly-dressed ladies played on costly pianos, London swells in
evening dress and patent-leather boots were abundant, and this fine
society drank champagne, and in other ways conducted itself in this
capital of humble sheds as it had been accustomed to do in the
aristocratic quarters of the metropolis of the world. The provincial
government put up expensive buildings for its own use, and a palace with
gardens for the use of its governor. The governor had a guard, and
maintained a court. Roads, wharves, and hospitals were built. All this on
credit, on paper, on wind, on inflated and fictitious values—on the
boom's moonshine, in fact. This went on handsomely during four or five
years. Then all of a sudden came a smash. Bills for a huge amount drawn by
the governor upon the Treasury were dishonored, the land company's credit
went up in smoke, a panic followed, values fell with a rush, the
frightened immigrants seized their gripsacks and fled to other lands,
leaving behind them a good imitation of a solitude, where lately had been
a buzzing and populous hive of men.</p>
<p>Adelaide was indeed almost empty; its population had fallen to 3,000.
During two years or more the death-trance continued. Prospect of revival
there was none; hope of it ceased. Then, as suddenly as the paralysis had
come, came the resurrection from it. Those astonishingly rich copper mines
were discovered, and the corpse got up and danced.</p>
<p>The wool production began to grow; grain-raising followed—followed
so vigorously, too, that four or five years after the copper discovery,
this little colony, which had had to import its breadstuffs formerly, and
pay hard prices for them—once $50 a barrel for flour—had
become an exporter of grain.</p>
<p>The prosperities continued. After many years Providence, desiring to show
especial regard for New South Wales and exhibit loving interest in its
welfare which should certify to all nations the recognition of that
colony's conspicuous righteousness and distinguished well-deserving,
conferred upon it that treasury of inconceivable riches, Broken Hill; and
South Australia went over the border and took it, giving thanks.</p>
<p>Among our passengers was an American with a unique vocation. Unique is a
strong word, but I use it justifiably if I did not misconceive what the
American told me; for I understood him to say that in the world there was
not another man engaged in the business which he was following. He was
buying the kangaroo-skin crop; buying all of it, both the Australian crop
and the Tasmanian; and buying it for an American house in New York. The
prices were not high, as there was no competition, but the year's
aggregate of skins would cost him L30,000. I had had the idea that the
kangaroo was about extinct in Tasmania and well thinned out on the
continent. In America the skins are tanned and made into shoes. After the
tanning, the leather takes a new name—which I have forgotten—I
only remember that the new name does not indicate that the kangaroo
furnishes the leather. There was a German competition for a while, some
years ago, but that has ceased. The Germans failed to arrive at the secret
of tanning the skins successfully, and they withdrew from the business.
Now then, I suppose that I have seen a man whose occupation is really
entitled to bear that high epithet—unique. And I suppose that there
is not another occupation in the world that is restricted to the hands of
a sole person. I can think of no instance of it. There is more than one
Pope, there is more than one Emperor, there is even more than one living
god, walking upon the earth and worshiped in all sincerity by large
populations of men. I have seen and talked with two of these Beings myself
in India, and I have the autograph of one of them. It can come good, by
and by, I reckon, if I attach it to a "permit."</p>
<p>Approaching Adelaide we dismounted from the train, as the French say, and
were driven in an open carriage over the hills and along their slopes to
the city. It was an excursion of an hour or two, and the charm of it could
not be overstated, I think. The road wound around gaps and gorges, and
offered all varieties of scenery and prospect—mountains, crags,
country homes, gardens, forests—color, color, color everywhere, and
the air fine and fresh, the skies blue, and not a shred of cloud to mar
the downpour of the brilliant sunshine. And finally the mountain gateway
opened, and the immense plain lay spread out below and stretching away
into dim distances on every hand, soft and delicate and dainty and
beautiful. On its near edge reposed the city.</p>
<p>We descended and entered. There was nothing to remind one of the humble
capital, of huts and sheds of the long-vanished day of the land-boom. No,
this was a modern city, with wide streets, compactly built; with fine
homes everywhere, embowered in foliage and flowers, and with imposing
masses of public buildings nobly grouped and architecturally beautiful.</p>
<p>There was prosperity, in the air; for another boom was on. Providence,
desiring to show especial regard for the neighboring colony on the west
called Western Australia—and exhibit loving interest in its welfare
which should certify to all nations the recognition of that colony's
conspicuous righteousness and distinguished well-deserving, had recently
conferred upon it that majestic treasury of golden riches, Coolgardie; and
now South Australia had gone around the corner and taken it, giving
thanks. Everything comes to him who is patient and good, and waits.</p>
<p>But South Australia deserves much, for apparently she is a hospitable home
for every alien who chooses to come; and for his religion, too. She has a
population, as per the latest census, of only 320,000-odd, and yet her
varieties of religion indicate the presence within her borders of samples
of people from pretty nearly every part of the globe you can think of.
Tabulated, these varieties of religion make a remarkable show. One would
have to go far to find its match. I copy here this cosmopolitan curiosity,
and it comes from the published census:</p>
<table summary="">
<tr>
<td></td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Church of England,
</td>
<td>
89,271
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Roman Catholic,
</td>
<td>
47,179
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Wesleyan,
</td>
<td>
49,159
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Lutheran,
</td>
<td>
23,328
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Presbyterian,
</td>
<td>
18,206
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Congregationalist,
</td>
<td>
11,882
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Bible Christian,
</td>
<td>
15,762
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Primitive Methodist,
</td>
<td>
11,654
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Baptist,
</td>
<td>
17,547
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Christian Brethren,
</td>
<td>
465
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Methodist New Connexion,
</td>
<td>
39
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Unitarian,
</td>
<td>
688
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Church of Christ,
</td>
<td>
3,367
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Society of Friends,
</td>
<td>
100
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Salvation Army,
</td>
<td>
4,356
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
New Jerusalem Church,
</td>
<td>
168
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Jews,
</td>
<td>
840
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Protestants (undefined),
</td>
<td>
5,532
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Mohammedans,
</td>
<td>
299
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Confucians, etc,
</td>
<td>
3,884
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Other religions,
</td>
<td>
1,719
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Object,
</td>
<td>
6,940
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Not stated,
</td>
<td>
8,046
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
Total,
</td>
<td>
320,431
</td>
</tr>
</table>
<p>The item in the above list "Other religions" includes the following as
returned:</p>
<table summary="">
<tr>
<td>
Agnostics, Atheists, Believers in Christ, Buddhists, Calvinists,
Christadelphians, Christians, Christ's Chapel, Christian Israelites,
Christian Socialists, Church of God, Cosmopolitans, Deists,
Evangelists, Exclusive Brethren, Free Church, Free Methodists,
Freethinkers, Followers of Christ, Gospel Meetings, Greek Church,
Infidels, Maronites, Memnonists, Moravians, Mormons, Naturalists,
Orthodox, Others (indefinite), Pagans, Pantheists, Plymouth Brethren,
Rationalists, Reformers, Secularists, Seventh-day Adventists, Shaker,
Shintoists, Spiritualists, Theosophists, Town (City) Mission, Welsh
Church, Huguenot, Hussite, Zoroastrians, Zwinglian,
</td>
</tr>
</table>
<p>About 64 roads to the other world. You see how healthy the religious
atmosphere is. Anything can live in it. Agnostics, Atheists, Freethinkers,
Infidels, Mormons, Pagans, Indefinites they are all there. And all the big
sects of the world can do more than merely live in it: they can spread,
flourish, prosper. All except the Spiritualists and the Theosophists. That
is the most curious feature of this curious table. What is the matter with
the specter? Why do they puff him away? He is a welcome toy everywhere
else in the world.<br/> <br/> <br/> <br/></p>
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<p><br/> <br/> <br/> <br/></p>
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