Early next morning, we found ourselves steaming close in sh.o.r.e past Cape Brett, near the entrance to the Bay of Islands. The high cliffs along the coast are bold and grand; here and there a waterfall is seen, and occasionally an opening valley, showing the green woods beyond. In the distance are numerous conical hills, showing the originally volcanic character of the country. During the forenoon we pa.s.sed a huge rock that in the distance had the appearance of being a large ship in full sail; hence its name of the "Sail Rock."

The entrance to the harbour of Auckland, though by no means equal to Port Jackson, is yet highly picturesque. On one side is the city of Auckland, lying in a hollow, and extending up the steep hills on either side; while opposite to it, on the north sh.o.r.e of the Frith of Thames, is a large round hill, used as a pilot signal station.

Situated underneath it are many nice little villas, with gardens close to the sea. The view extends up the inlets, which widens out and terminates in a background of high blue mountains. From Auckland, as from Sydney, the open sea is not to be seen--there are so many windings in and out before the harbour is reached.

A fine Queen's ship was lying at anchor in the bay, which, on inquiry, we found to be the 'Galatea,' commanded by the Duke of Edinburgh. The 'Clio' also was anch.o.r.ed not far off. We were soon alongside the long wooden pier, to which were also moored several fine clipper ships, and made our way into the town. As the princ.i.p.al street continued straight in from the pier, we were shortly enabled to see all the princ.i.p.al buildings of the place.

Though a small shipping town, there seems to be a considerable amount of business doing at Auckland. There is a good market-place, some creditable bank buildings, and some three or four fine shops, but the streets are dirty and ill-paved. The Supreme Court and the Post Office--both fine buildings--lie off the princ.i.p.al street. The Governor's house, which occupies a hill to the right, commands a fine view of the bay, as well as of the lovely green valley behind it.

Auckland, like Sydney, being for the most part built upon high land, is divided by ravines, which open out towards the sea in little coves or bays--such as Mechanics' Bay, Commercial Bay, and Official Bay. The buildings in Mechanics' Bay, as the name imports, are princ.i.p.ally devoted to ship-building, boat-building, and rope-making. The sh.o.r.e of Commercial Bay is occupied by the store and shop-keeping people, while Official Bay is surrounded by the princ.i.p.al official buildings, the Government storehouses, and such like.

I have been told here that Auckland is completely out of place as the capital of the colony, being situated at the narrowest part of the island, far away from the princ.i.p.al seats of population, which are in Cook's Straits and even further south. The story is current that Auckland is due to an early job of Government officials, who combined to buy up the land about it and when it had been fixed upon as the site of the capital, sold out their lots at fabulous prices, to the feathering of their own nests.

A great many natives, or Maoris, are hanging about the town. It seems that they are here in greater numbers than usual, their votes being wanted for the pa.s.sing or confirmation of some land measure. Groups of them stand about the streets talking and gesticulating; a still greater number are hanging round the public-houses, which they enter from time to time to have a drink. I cannot say I like the look of the men; they look very ugly customers indeed--beetle-browed and down-looking, "with foreheads villanous low." Their appearance is all the more revolting by reason of the large blue circles of tattoo on their faces. Indeed, when the New Zealander is fully tattooed, which is the case with the old aristocrats, there is very little of his original face visible, excepting perhaps his nose and his bright black eyes.

Most of the men were dressed in the European costume, though some few were in their native blankets, which they wear with grace and even dignity. The men were of fine physique--tall, strong, and well-made--and, looking at their keen fierce eyes, I do not wonder that they have given our soldiers so much trouble. I could not help thinking, as I saw them hanging about the drinking-shops, some half drunk, that English drink will in the long run prove their conquerors far more than English rifles.

There were many Maori women mingled with the men. Some of them were good looking. Their skin is of a clear dark olive; their eyes dark brown or black; their noses small and their mouths large. But nearly all of them have a horrid blue tattoo mark on their lips, that serves to give them--at least to European eyes--a repulsive look.

Many of the women, as well as the men, wear a piece of native greenstone hanging from their ears, to which is attached a long piece of black ribbon. This stone is supposed by the Maoris to possess some magical virtue. Others of them--men, as well as girls--have sharks'

teeth hanging from their ears and dangling about their faces,--the upper part of the teeth being covered with bright red wax.

Mixed with the Maoris were the sailors of the 'Galatea,' rolling about the streets, and, like them, frequent customers of the public-houses.

In fact, the sailors and the Maoris seemed to form a considerable proportion of the population of the place.

The landlord of the hotel at which we stayed--the 'Waitemata'--having recommended us to take a drive into the interior, we set out at midday by stage coach for Onehunga. Auckland being situated at the narrowest part of the North Island, Onehunga, which is on the west coast, is only seven miles distant by land, though five hundred by water.

The coach started at noon, and it was hard work for the four horses to drag the vehicle up the long steep hill at the back of the town.

Nice country-houses stood on both sides of the road, amidst fresh green gardens; the houses almost buried in foliage.

From the high road a magnificent landscape stretched before us. It reminded me very much of a particular view of the Lake of Geneva, though this was even more grand and extensive. The open sea was at such a distance, and so shut out by intervening high land, that it was scarcely visible. The lovely frith or bay, with its numerous inlets, islands, and surrounding bright green hills, lay at our feet. The blue water wound in and out amongst the hills on our right for a distance of about fifteen miles. There was a large open stretch of water, surrounded by high mountains, towards the west. Right before us was the entrance to the bay, with the pilot-station hill on one side and Mount Victoria on the other. Between these two hills, high land stood up in the distance, so that the whole gave one the impression of a beautiful inland lake rather than of a sea view. It was, without exception, the most magnificent prospect I had ever looked upon. Yet they tell me this is surpa.s.sed by the scenery in other parts of New Zealand; in which case it must indeed be an exceedingly picturesque country.

We drove along through a pretty green country, with fine views of the plains toward the right, bounded by distant blue mountains. In about another quarter of an hour, after pa.s.sing through the village of Epsom, we came in sight of the sea on the west coast, and were shortly set down at Onehunga, on the sh.o.r.e of Manukau Bay. Onehunga is a small township, containing a few storehouses, besides dwelling-houses, with an hotel or two. The view here was also fine, but not so interesting as that on the eastern side of the island.

Plains, bounded by distant mountains, extended along the coast on one side, and high broken cliffs ran along the sh.o.r.e and bounded the sea in front of us. After an hour's rest, at Onehunga, we returned to Auckland, enjoying the drive back very much, in spite of the inconveniently-crowded coach.

There was a sort of gala in Auckland that evening. A promenade concert was given on the parade-ground at the barracks, at which the band of the 'Galatea' played to the company. The Prince himself, it was announced, would perform on the occasion. It was a fine moonlight night, and the inhabitants of Auckland turned out in force. There must have been at least two thousand well-dressed people promenading about, listening to the music. The Prince's elephant was there too, and afforded a good deal of amus.e.m.e.nt. How the poor brute was slung out of the 'Galatea,' got on sh.o.r.e, and got back on ship-board again, was to me a mystery.

I went down to the steamer at the appointed time of sailing, but found that the 'City' was not to leave for several hours after time. The mail express was to wait until Mr. and Mrs. Bandman--who had been acting in Auckland--had received some presentation from the officers of the 'Galatea'! It seemed odd that a mail steamer should be delayed some hours to suit the convenience of a party of actors. But there are strange doings connected with this mail line. Time is of little moment here; and, in New Zealand, I suspect time is even less valued than usual. They tell me that few mails leave New Zealand without having to wait, on some pretext or another. There does not seem to be the same activity, energy, and business apt.i.tude that exists in the Australian colonies. The Auckland people seem languid and half asleep.

Perhaps their soft, relaxing, winterless climate has something to do with it.

Having nothing else to occupy me before the ship sailed, I took leave of my Australian friend, gave him my last messages for Maryborough and Majorca, and went on board. I was wakened up about midnight by the noise of the anchor coming up; and, in a few minutes more, we were off and on our way to Honolulu up the Pacific.

CHAPTER XX.

UP THE PACIFIC.

DEPARTURE FOR HONOLULU--MONOTONY OF A VOYAGE BY STEAM--DeSAGReMENS--THE "GENTLEMEN" Pa.s.sENGERS--THE ONE SECOND CLa.s.s "LADY"--THE RATS ON BOARD--THE SMELLS--FLYING FISH--CROSS THE LINE--TREATMENT OF NEWSPAPERS ON BOARD--HAWAII IN SIGHT--ARRIVAL AT HONOLULU.

When I went on deck next morning, we had left New Zealand far behind us; not a speck of land was to be seen, and we were fairly on our way to Honolulu. We have before us a clear run of about four thousand miles, and if our machinery and coal keep good, we know that we shall do it easily in about seventeen days.

Strange though it may seem, there is much greater monotony in a voyage on board a steamer than there is on board a sailing vessel. There is nothing like the same interest felt in the progress of the ship, and thus one unfailing topic of conversation and speculation is shut out.

There are no baffling winds, no sleeping calms, alternating with a joyous and invigorating run before the wind, such as we had when coming out, from Plymouth to the Cape. We only know that we shall do our average ten miles an hour, be the weather what it may. If the wind is blowing astern, we run before it; if ahead, we run through it.

Fair or foul it matters but little.

[Ill.u.s.tration: (Maps of the Ship's Course up the Pacific, Auckland, and Sydney, Port Jackson)]

A voyage by a steamer, compared with one by sailing ship, is what a journey by railway train is to a drive across country in a well-horsed stage coach. There is, however, this to be said in favour of the former,--we know that, monotonous though it be, it is very much sooner over; and on a voyage of some thousands of miles, we can calculate to a day, and almost to an hour, when we shall arrive at our destination.

But, to be set against the shorter time consumed on the voyage, there are numerous little _desagremens_. There is the dismal, never-ending grind, grind of the screw, sometimes, when the ship rolls, and the screw is out of the water, going round with a horrible _birr_. At such times, the vessel has a double motion, pitching and rolling, and thereby occasioning an inexpressibly sickly feeling. Then, when the weather is hot, there is the steam of heated oil wafted up from the engine-room, which, mingled with the smell of bilge, and perhaps cooking, is anything but agreeable or appetizing. I must also acknowledge that a second-cla.s.s berth, which I had taken, is not comparable in point of comfort to a first; not only as regards the company, but as regards smells, food, and other surroundings.

There are not many pa.s.sengers at my end, and the few there are do not make themselves very agreeable. First, there are two German Jews, grumbling and growling at everything. They are a couple of the most cantankerous fellows I ever came across; never done knagging, swearing, grunting, and bellowing. They keep the steward, who is an obliging sort of fellow, in a state of constant "wax;" which, when I want anything done for me, I have to remedy by tipping. So that they are likely to prove somewhat costly companions, though in a peculiar way.

Next, there is a German Yankee, a queer old fellow, who came on board at Auckland. He seems to have made some money at one of the New Zealand gold fields called "The Serpentine," somewhere near Dunedin.

This old fellow and I cotton together very well. He is worth a dozen of the other two Germans. He had been all through the American war under Grant, and spins some long yarns about the Northerners and the "cussed rebs."

As there are twenty-seven bunks in our cabin, and only four pa.s.sengers, there is of course plenty of room and to spare. But there is also a "lady" pa.s.senger at our end of the ship, and she has all the fifteen sleeping-places in her cabin to herself. It might be supposed that, there being only one lady, she would be in considerable demand with her fellow-pa.s.sengers. But it was quite the contrary. Miss Ribbids, as I will call her, proved to be a most uninteresting individual. I am sorry to have to confess to so much ungallantry; but the only effort which I made, in common with the others, was to avoid her--she was so hopelessly dense. One night she asked me, quite seriously, "If that was the same moon they had at Sydney?"! I am sure she does not know that the earth is round. By stretching a hair across the telescope gla.s.s, I made her look in and showed her the Line, but she did not see the joke. She gravely asked if we should not land at the Line: she understood there was land there! Her only humour is displayed at table, when anything is spilt by the rolling of the ship, when she exclaims, "Over goes the apple-cart!" But enough of the awful Miss Ribbids.

There are, however, other pa.s.sengers aboard that must not be forgotten--the rats! I used to have a horror of rats, but here I soon became used to them. The first night I slept on board I smelt something very disgusting as I got into my bunk; and at last I discovered that it arose from a dead rat in the wainscot of the ship.

My nose being somewhat fastidious as yet, I moved to the other side of the cabin. But four kegs of strong-smelling b.u.t.ter sent me quickly out of that. I then tried a bunk next to the German Jews, but I found proximity to them was the least endurable of all; and so, after many changes, I at last came back and slept contentedly beside my unseen and most unsavoury companion, the dead rat.

But there are plenty of living and very lively rats too. One night a big fellow ran over my face, and in a fright I cried out. But use is everything, and in the course of a few more nights I got quite rid of my childish astonishment and fear at rats running over my face. Have you ever heard rats sing? I a.s.sure you they sing in a very lively chorus; though I confess I have heard much pleasanter music in my time.

Amidst all these little troubles, the ship went steadily on. During the second night, after leaving Auckland, the wind began to blow pretty fresh, and the hatch was closed. It felt very close and stuffy below, that night. The light went out, and the rats had it all their own way. On the following day, it was impossible to go on deck without getting wet through, so we were forced to stick down below. The rolling of the ship was also considerable.

Next day was fine, but hot. The temperature sensibly and even rapidly increases as we approach the Line. We see no land, though we have pa.s.sed through amongst the Friendly Islands, with the Samoa or Navigator's Islands lying to the west. It is now a clear course to Honolulu. Not being able to go on deck in the heat of the day, at risk of sun-stroke, I wait until the sun has gone down, and then slip on deck with my rug and pillow, and enjoy a siesta under the stars. But sometimes I am disturbed by a squall, and have to take refuge below again.

As the heat increases, so do the smells on board. In pa.s.sing from the deck to our cabin, I pa.s.s through seven distinct perfumes:--1st, the smell from the galley smoke; 2nd, the perfume of decaying vegetables stored on the upper deck; 3rd, fowls; 4th, dried fish; 5th, oil and steam from the engine-room; 6th, meat undergoing the process of cooking; 7th, the galley by which I pa.s.s; until I finally enter No. 8, our own sweet cabin, with the b.u.t.ter, the rats, and the German Jews.

We are again in the midst of the flying fish; but they interest me nothing like so vividly as they did when I first saw them in the Atlantic. Some of them take very long flights, as much as thirty or forty yards. Whole shoals of them fly away from the bows of the ship as she presses through the water.

On the 19th of January we crossed the Line, in longitude about 160.

We continue on a straight course, making an average of about 240 miles a day. It already begins to get cooler, as we are past the sun's greatest heat. It is a very idle, listless life; and I lie about on the hen-coops all day, reading, or sitting down now and then to write up this log, which has been written throughout amidst discomfort and under considerable difficulties.

One of my fellow-pa.s.sengers is enraged at the manner in which newspapers are treated while in transit. If what he says be true, I can easily understand how it is that so many newspapers miscarry--how so many numbers of 'Punch' and the 'Ill.u.s.trated News' never reach their destination. My informant says that when an officer wants a newspaper, the mail-bag is opened, and he takes what he likes. He might just as well be permitted to have letters containing money. Many a poor colonial who cannot write a letter, buys and despatches a newspaper to his friends at home, to let them know he is alive; and this is the careless and unfaithful way in which the missive is treated by those to whom its carriage is entrusted. I heard many complaints while in Victoria, of newspapers containing matter of interest never reaching their address; from which I infer that the same practice more or less prevails on the Atlantic route. It is really too bad.

As we steam north, the weather grows fine, and we begin to have some splendid days and glorious sunsets. But we are all longing eagerly to arrive at our destination. At length, on the morning of the 24th of January, we discerned the high land of the island of Hawaii, about seventy miles off, on our beam. That is the island where Captain Cook was murdered by the natives, in 1779. We saw distinctly the high conical volcanic mountain of Mauna Loa, 14,000 feet high, its peak showing clear above the grey clouds.

We steamed on all day, peering ahead, looking out for the land. Night fell, and still our port was not in sight. At length, at about ten, the lighthouse on the reef which stretches out in front of Honolulu, shone out in the darkness. Then began a little display of fireworks, and rockets and blue lights were exchanged between our ship and the sh.o.r.e. A rocket also shot up from a steamer to seaward, and she was made out to be the 'Moses Taylor,' the ship that is to take us on to San Francisco.

At about one in the morning, we take our pilot on board, and shortly after, my German friends rouse me with the intelligence that we are alongside the wharf. I am now, however, getting an "old bird;" my enthusiasm about novelty has gone down considerably; and I decline the pleasure of accompanying them on sh.o.r.e at this early hour. Honolulu will doubtless wait for me until morning.

[Ill.u.s.tration: HONOLULU, SANDWICH ISLANDS.]