Part 4 out of 4
quite cover their jackets with gold, while the ladies delight to sparkle
This is the capital. It is often called Borneo, and it is written down in
the maps by this name. It is one of the most curious cities in the world;
for most of the houses are built in the river, and most of the streets
are only water. Every morning a great market is held on the water. The
people come in boats from all the country round, bringing fruit and
vegetables to sell, and they paddle up and down the city till they have
sold their goods.
The Sultan's palace is built upon the bank, close to the water; and the
front of his palace is open; so that it is easy to come in a boat, and to
gaze upon him, as he sits cross-legged on his throne, arrayed in purple
satin, glittering with gold.
There is a mosque in Bruni; but it is built only of brick, and has
nothing in it but a wooden pulpit; and hardly anybody goes there, though
a man stands outside making a loud noise on a great drum, to invite
people to come in.
These are a savage people who inhabit Borneo. They lived there before the
Malays came, and they have been obliged to submit to them. They are
savages indeed. They are darker than the Malays; yet they are not black;
their skin is only the color of copper. Their hair is cut short in front,
but streams down their backs; their large mouths show a quantity of black
teeth, made black by chewing the betel-nut. They wear very little
clothing, but they adorn their ears, and arms, and legs, with numbers of
brass rings. Their looks are wild and fierce, but not cunning like the
looks of the Malays. They are not Mahomedans; they have hardly any
religion at all. They believe there are some gods, but they know hardly
anything about them, and they do not want to know. They neither make
images to the gods, nor say prayers to them. They live like the beasts,
thinking only of this life; yet they are more unhappy than beasts, for
they imagine there are evil spirits among the woods and hills, watching
to do them harm. It is often hard to persuade them to go to the top of a
mountain, where they say evil spirits dwell. Such a people would be more
ready to listen to a missionary than those who have idols, and temples,
and priests, and sacred books.
Their wickedness is very great. It is their chief delight to get the
heads of their enemies. There are a great many different tribes of Dyaks,
and each tribe tries to cut off the heads of other tribes. The Dyaks who
live by the sea are the most cruel; they go out in the boats to rob, and
to bring home, not _slaves_, but HEADS! And how do they treat a head when
they get it? They take out the brains, and then they dry it in the smoke,
with the flesh and hair still on; then they put a string through it, and
fasten it to their waists. The evening that they have got some new heads,
the warriors dance with delight,--their heads dangling by their
sides;--and they turn round in the dance, and gaze upon their heads,--and
shout,--and yell with triumph! At night they still keep the heads near
them; and in the day, they play with them, as children with their dolls,
talking to them, putting food in their mouths, and the betel-nut between
their ghastly lips. After wearing the heads many days, they hang them up
to the ceilings of their rooms.
No English lord thinks so much of his pictures, as the Dyaks do of their
heads. They think these heads are the finest ornaments of their houses.
The man who has _most_ heads, is considered the _greatest_ man. A man who
has NO HEADS is despised! If he wishes to be respected, he must get a
head as soon as he can. Sometimes a man, in order to get a head, will go
out to look for a poor fisherman, who has done him no harm, and will come
back with his head.
When the Dyaks fight against their enemies, they try to get, not only the
heads of _men_, but also the heads of _women_ and CHILDREN. How dreadful
it must be to see a poor BABY'S HEAD hanging from the ceiling! There was
a Dyak who lost all his property by fire, but he cared not for losing
anything, so much as for losing his PRECIOUS HEADS; nothing could console
him for THIS loss; some of them he had cut off himself, and others had
been cut off by his father, and left to him!
People who are so bent on killing, as these Dyaks are, must have many
enemies. The Dyaks are always in fear of being attacked by their enemies.
They are afraid of living in lonely cottages; they think it a better plan
for a great many to live together, that they may be able to defend
themselves, if surprised in the night. Four hundred Dyaks will live
together in one house. The house is very large. To make it more safe, it
is built upon _very high posts_, and there are ladders to get up by. The
posts are sometimes forty feet high; so that when you are in the house,
you find yourself as high as the tall trees. There is one very large
room, where all the men and women sit, and talk, and do their work in the
day. The women pound the rice, and weave the mats, while the men make
weapons of war, and the little children play about. There is always much
noise and confusion in this room. There are a great many doors along one
side of the long room; and each of these doors leads into a small room
where a family lives; the parents, the babies, and the girls sleep there,
while the boys of the family sleep in the large room, that has just been
You know already what are the ornaments on which each family prides
itself,--the HEADS hanging up in their rooms! It is the SEA Dyaks who
live in these very large houses.
The HILL Dyaks do not live in houses quite so large. Yet several families
inhabit the same house. In the midst of their villages, there is always
one house where the boys sleep. In this house all the HEADS of the
village are kept. The house is round, and built on posts, and the
entrance is underneath through the floor. As this is the best house in
the village, travellers are always brought to this house to sleep. Think
how dreadful it must be, when you wake in the night to see thirty or
forty horrible heads, dangling from the ceiling! The wind, too, which
comes in through little doors in the roof, blows the heads about; so that
they knock against each other, and seem almost as if they were still
alive. This is the HEAD-HOUSE.
These Hill Dyaks do not often get a new head; but when they do, they come
to the Head-House at night, and sing to the new head, while they beat
upon their loud gongs. What do they say to the new head?
"Your head, and your spirit, are now ours. Persuade your countrymen to be
slain by us. Let them wander in the fields, that we may bring the heads
of your brethren, and hang them up with your heads."
How much Satan must delight in these prayers. They are prayers just
suited to that great MURDERER and DESTROYER!
The Malays are enemies to all the Dyaks; and they have burnt many of
their houses, cut down their fruit trees, and taken their children
captives. The Dyaks complain bitterly of their sufferings. Some of them
say, "We do not live like men, but like monkeys; we are hunted from place
to place; we have no houses; and when we light a fire, we fear lest the
smoke should make our enemies know where we are."
They say they live like monkeys. But why do they behave like tigers?
An English gentleman, named Sir James Brooke, has settled in Borneo, and
has become a chief of a large tract of land. His house is near the river
Sarawak. He has persuaded the Sultan of Borneo, to give the English a
VERY LITTLE island called the Isle of Labuan. It is a desert island. Of
what use can this small island be to England? English soldiers may live
there, and try to prevent pirates infesting the seas. If it were not for
the pirates, Borneo would be able to send many treasures to foreign
countries. It is but a little way from Borneo to Singapore, and there are
many English merchants at Singapore, ready to buy the precious things of
Borneo. Gold is found in Borneo, mixed with the earth. But I don't know
who would dig it up, if it were not for the industrious Chinese, who come
over in great numbers to get money in this island. Diamonds are found
there, and a valuable metal called antimony.
The sago-tree, the pepper plant, and the sugar-cane, and the cocoa-nut
tree are abundant.
The greatest curiosity that Borneo possesses are the eatable nests. These
white and transparent nests are found in the caves by the sea-shore, and
they are the work of a little swallow. The Chinese give a high price for
these nests, that they may make soup for their feasts.
ANIMALS.--Borneo has very few large animals. There are, indeed, enormous
alligators in the rivers, but there are no lions or tigers; and even the
bears are small, and content to climb the trees for fruit and honey. The
majestic animal which is the pride of Ceylon, is not found in Borneo: I
mean the elephant.
Yet the woods are filled with living creatures. Squirrels and monkeys
sport among the trees. The leaps of the monkeys are amazing; hundreds
will jump one after the other, from a tree as high as a house, and not
one will miss his footing; yet now and then a monkey has a fall. The
most curious kind of monkey is found in Borneo--the Ourang-outang; but it
is one of the least active; it climbs carefully from branch to branch,
always holding by its hands before it makes a spring. These
Ourang-outangs are not as large as a man, yet they are much stronger. All
the monkeys sleep in the trees; in a minute a monkey makes its bed by
twisting a few branches together.
Beneath the trees--two sorts of animals, very unlike each other, roam
about,--the clumsy hog, and the graceful deer. As the _largest_ sort of
_monkeys_ is found in Borneo, so is the _smallest_ sort of _deer_. There
is a deer that has legs only eight inches long. There is no more elegant
creature in the world than this bright-eyed, swift-footed little deer.
This is the name of a great empire. There are three principal islands.
One of these is very long, and very narrow; it is about a thousand miles
long,--much longer than Great Britain, but not nearly as broad. Yet the
three islands _together_ are larger than our island. There is a fourth
island near the Japan islands, called Jesso, and it is filled with
You know it is difficult to get into China; but it is far more difficult
to get into Japan. The emperor has boats always watching round the coast,
to prevent strangers coming into his country. These boats are so made,
that they cannot go far from the shore. No Japanese ship is ever seen
floating in a foreign harbor. If it be difficult to get _into_ Japan, it
is also difficult to get _out_ of her. There is a law condemning to
_death_ any Japanese who leaves his country. The Chinese also are
forbidden to leave their land; but _they_ do not mind their laws as well
as the Japanese mind _theirs_.
I shall not be able to tell you much about Japan; as strangers may not go
there, nor natives come from it. English ships very seldom go to Japan,
because they are so closely watched. The guard-boats surround them night
and day. When it is dark, lanterns are lighted, in order the better to
observe the strangers. One English captain entreated permission to land,
that he might observe the stars with his instruments, in order afterwards
to make maps; but he could only get leave to land on a little island
where there were a few fishermen's huts; and all the time he was there,
the Japanese officers kept their eye upon him. He was told that he must
not measure the land. It seems that the Japanese were afraid that his
_measuring_ the land would be the beginning of his taking it away.
However, he had no such intention, and was content with measuring the
He asked the Japanese to sell him a supply of fruit and vegetables for
his crew, and a supply was brought; but the Japanese would take no money
in return. He wanted to buy bullocks, that his crew might have beef, but
the Japanese replied, "You cannot have _them_; for they work hard, and
are tired, they draw the plough; they do their duty, and they ought not
to be eaten; but the _hogs_ are lazy; they do no work, you may have them
to eat, if you wish it." The Japanese will not even milk their cows, but
they allow the calves to have all the milk.
If you wish to know _why_ the Japanese will not allow strangers to land,
I must relate some events which happened three hundred years ago.
Some Roman Catholic priests from Spain and Portugal settled in the land,
and taught the people about Christ, but they taught them also to worship
the cross, and the Virgin Mary. Thousands of the Japanese were baptized,
and were called Christians. After some years had passed away, the emperor
began to fear that the kings of Spain and Portugal would come, and take
away his country from him, as they had taken away other countries; so the
emperor began to persecute the priests, and all who followed their words.
One emperor after another persecuted the Christians. There is a burning
mountain in Japan, and down its terrible yawning mouth many Christians
were thrown. One emperor commanded his people instead of _worshipping_
the cross, to _trample_ upon it. To do either--is wicked; to do either is
to insult Christ.
All Christians are now hated in Japan. The Dutch tried to persuade the
emperors to trust _them_; but they could only get leave to buy and sell
at one place, but not to settle in the land.
There are many beautiful things in Japan, especially boxes, and screens,
and cabinets, varnished and ornamented in a curious manner, and these are
much admired by great people in Europe. There is silk, too, and tea, and
porcelain in Japan; but they are not nearly as fine as China. There is
There are as many people in Japan, as there are in Britain; for the
Japanese are very industrious, and cultivate abundance of rice, and
wheat. Oh! how sad to think that so many millions should be living and
dying in darkness; for the chief religion is the false, and foolish
religion of Buddha, or, as he is called in Japan, "Budso." How many names
are given to that deceiver! Buddha in Ceylon; Fo, in China; Gaudama, in
Burmah; Codom, in Siam--and Budso in Japan!
What sort of people are the Japanese?
They are a very polite people--much politer than the Chinese, but very
proud. They are a learned nation, for they can read and write, and they
understand geography, arithmetic, and astronomy. There is a college where
many languages are taught, even English. The dress of the gentlemen is
elegant;--the loose tunic and trowsers, the sash, and jacket, are made of
a kind of fine linen, adorned with various patterns; the stockings are of
white jean; sandals are worn upon the feet, but no covering upon the
head, although most of the hair is shaven, and the little that remains
behind, is tied tightly together; an umbrella or a fan is all that is
used to keep off the sun;--except on journeys, and then a large cap of
oiled paper, or of plaited grass is worn. The great mark by which a
gentleman is known, is wearing two swords.
The Japanese houses are very pretty. In the windows--flower-pots are
placed; and when real flowers cannot be had, artificial flowers are used.
In great houses, the ladies are shut up in one part; while in the other,
company is received. The house is divided into rooms by large screens,
and as these can be moved, the rooms can be made larger, or smaller, as
the master pleases. There are no chairs, for the Japanese, though so much
like the Chinese, do not sit like them on chairs, but on mats beautifully
woven. The emperor's palace is called, "The Hall of the Thousand Mats."
Every part of a Japanese house is covered with paper, and adorned with
paintings, and gold, and silver flowers; even the doors, and the
ceilings, are ornamented in this manner. Beautiful boxes, and porcelain
jars, add to the beauty of the rooms.
The climate is pleasant, for the winter is short, and the sun is not as
hot as in China; so that the ladies, and gentlemen, are almost as fair as
Europeans, though the laborers are very dark.
[Illustration: JAPANESE GENTLEMAN.]
But Japan is exposed to many dangers, from wind, from water, and from
fire--three terrible enemies! The waves dash with violence upon the rocky
shores; the wind often blows in fearful hurricanes; while earthquakes and
hot streams from the burning mountains, fill the people with terror.
But more terrible than any of these--is wickedness; and very wicked
customs are observed in Japan. It is very wicked for a man to kill
himself, yet in Japan it is the custom for all courtiers who have
offended the emperor, to cut open their own bodies with a sword. The
little boys of five years old, begin to learn the dreadful art. They do
not really cut themselves, but they are shown _how_ to do it, that when
they are men, they may be able to kill themselves in an elegant manner.
How dreadful! Every great man has a white dress, which he never wears,
but keeps by him, that he may put it on when he is going to kill himself:
and he carries it about with him wherever he goes, for he cannot tell how
suddenly he may want it. When a courtier receives a letter sentencing him
to die, he invites his friends to a feast; and at the end of it, his
sentence is read aloud by the emperor's officer; then he takes his sword,
and makes a great gash across his own body; at the same moment, a servant
who stands behind him, cuts off his head.
This way of dying is thought very fine, and as a reward, the emperor
allows the son of the dead man to occupy his father's place in the court.
But _what_ a place to have, when at last there may be such a fearful
scene! Missionaries cannot come into Japan to teach the people a better
way of dying, and to tell them of a happy place after death.
This is the largest island in the world. It is as large as Europe (which
is not an _island_, but a _continent_). But how different is Australia
from Europe! Instead of containing, as Europe does, a number of grand
kingdoms, it has not one single king. Instead of being filled with
people, the greater part of Australia is a desert, or a forest, where a
few half naked savages are wandering.
A hundred years ago, there was not a town in the whole island; but now
there are a few large towns near the sea-coast, but only a very few. It
is the English who built these large towns, and who live in them.
Australia is not so fine a land as Europe, because it has not so many
fine rivers; and it is fine _rivers_ that make a fine _land_. Most of the
rivers in Australia do not deserve the name of rivers; they are more like
a number of water-holes, and are often dried up in the summer; but there
is one very fine, broad, long, deep river, called the Murray. It flows
for twelve hundred miles. Were there several such rivers us the Murray,
then Australia would be a fine land indeed.
Why is there so little water? Because there is so little rain. Sometimes
for two years together, there are no heavy showers, and the grass
withers, and the trees turn brown, and the air is filled with dust. I
believe the reason of the want of rain is--that the mountains are not
high; for high mountains draw the clouds together. There are no mountains
as high as the Alps of Europe; the highest are only half as high.
THE NATIVES.--The savages of Australia have neither god, nor king. Some
heathen countries are full of idols, but there are no idols in the wilds
of Australia. No,--like the beasts which perish, these savages live from
day to day without prayer, or praise, delighting only in eating and
drinking, hunting and dancing.
Most men build some kind of houses; but these savages are satisfied with
putting a few boughs together, as a shelter from the storm. There is just
room in one of these shelters for a man to creep into it, and lie down to
sleep. They do not wish to learn to build better huts, for as they are
always running about from place to place, they do not think it worth
while to build better.
A native was once sitting in the corner of a white man's hut, and looking
as if he enjoyed the warmth. The white men began to laugh at him, for not
building a good hut for himself. For some time the black man said
nothing, at last he muttered, "Ay, ay, white fellow think it best
that-a-way. Black fellow think it best that-a-way." A white man rudely
answered, "Then black fellow is a fool." Upon hearing this, the black
fellow, quite affronted, got up, and folding his blanket round him,
walked out of the hut. How much pride there is in the heart of man! Even
a savage thinks a great deal of his own wisdom, and cannot bear to be
called a fool.
Sometimes the natives build a house _strong_ enough to last during the
whole winter, and _large_ enough to hold seven or eight people. They make
it in the shape of a bee-hive.
Their reason for moving about continually, is that they may get food.
They look for it, wherever they go, digging up roots, and grubbing up
grubs, and searching the hollows of the trees for _opossums_. (Of these
strange animals more shall soon be mentioned.)
The women are the most ill-treated creatures in the world. The men beat
them on their heads whenever they please, and cover them with bruises. A
gentleman once saw a poor black woman crying bitterly. When he asked her
what was the matter, she told him that her husband was going to beat her
for having broken his pipe. The gentleman went to the husband, and
entreated him to forgive his "gin" (for that is the name for a _wife_ or
_woman_). But the man declared he would not forgive her, unless a new
pipe was given to him. The gentleman could not promise one to the black
man, as there were no pipes to be had in that place. The next morning the
poor gin appeared with a broken arm, her cruel husband having beaten her
with a thick stick.
The miserable gins are not _beaten_ only; they are _half starved_; for
their husbands will give them no food, and _they_--poor things--cannot
fish or hunt, or shoot; they have nothing but the roots they dig up, and
the grubs, and lizards, and snakes they find on the ground. Their looks
show how wretchedly they fare; for while the men are often strong and
tall, the women are generally thin, and bent, and haggard.
Yet the _woman_, weak as she is, carries all the baggage, not only the
babe slung upon her back, but the bag of food, and even her husband's gun
and pipe; while the _man_ stalks along in his pride, with nothing but
his spear in his hand, or at most a light basket upon his arm; for he
considers his wife as his beast of burden. At night the woman has to
build her own shelter, for the man thinks it quite enough to build one
Such is the hard lot of a native woman, while she _lives_; and when she
_dies_, her body is perched in a tree, as not worth the trouble of
I have already told you, that the natives have no GOD; yet they have a
DEVIL, whom they call Yakoo, or debbil-debbil. Of him they are always
afraid, for they fancy he goes about devouring children. When any one
dies, they say, "Yakoo took him." How different from those happy
Christians who can say of their dead, "God took them!"
People who know not God, but only the devil, must be very wicked. These
savages show themselves to be children of debbil-debbil by their actions.
They kill many of their babes, that they may not have the trouble of
nursing them. Old people also they kill, and laugh at the idea of making
them "tumble down." One of the most horrible things they do, is making
the skulls of their friends into drinking-cups, and they think that by
doing so, they show their AFFECTION! They allow the nearest relation to
have the skull of the dead person. They will even EAT a little piece of
the dead body, just as a mark of love. But generally speaking, it is
only their _enemies_ they eat, and they _do_ eat them whenever they can
kill them. There are a great many tribes of natives, and they look upon
one another as enemies. If a man of one tribe dare to come, and hunt in
the lands of another tribe, he is immediately killed, and his body is
The bodies of dear friends--are treated with great honor, placed for some
weeks on a high platform, and then buried. Mothers prize highly the dead
bodies of their children. A traveller met a poor old woman wandering in
search of roots, with a stick for digging in her hand, and with no other
covering than a little grass mat. On her back she bore a heavy load. What
was it? The dead body of her child,--a boy of ten years old; this burden
she had borne for three weeks, and she thought she showed her love, by
keeping it near her for so long a time. Alas! she knew nothing of the
immortal spirit, and how, when washed in Jesus' blood, it is borne by
angels into the presence of God.
But though these savages are so wicked, and so wild, they have their
amusements. Dancing is the chief amusement. At every full moon, there is
a grand dance, called the Corrobory. It is the men who dance, while the
women sit by and beat time. Nothing can be more horrible to see than a
Corrobory. It is held in the night by the light of blazing fires. The men
are made to look more frightful than usual, by great patches, and stripes
of red and white clay all over their bodies; and they play all manner of
strange antics, and utter all kinds of strange yells; so that you might
think it was a dance in HELL, rather than on earth.
It may surprise you to hear these wild creatures have a turn both for
music and drawing. There are figures carved upon the rocks, which show
their turn for drawing. The figures represent beasts, fishes, and men,
and are much better done than could have been supposed. There are few
savages who can sing as well as these natives; but the _words_ of their
songs are very foolish. These are the words of one song,
"Eat great deal, eat, eat, eat;
Eat again, plenty to eat;
Eat more yet, eat, eat, eat."
If a pig could sing, surely this song would just suit its fancy. How sad
to think a man who is made to praise God forever and ever, should have no
higher joy than eating!
And what is the appearance of these people?
They are ugly, with flat noses, and wide mouths, but their teeth are
white, and their hair is long, glossy, and curly. They adorn their
tresses with teeth, and feathers, and dogs' tails; and they rub over
their whole body with fish oil and fat. You may imagine, therefore, how
unpleasant it must be to come near them.
THE COLONISTS OR SETTLERS.
_Once_ there were only black people in Australia, and no white; _now_
there are more white than black; and it is probable, that soon, there
will be no black people, but only white. Ever since the white people
began to settle there, the black people have been dying away very fast;
for the white people have taken away the lands where the blacks used to
hunt, and have filled them with their sheep and cattle.
There are two sorts of white people who have come to Australia. They are
called "Convicts," and "Colonists."
Convicts are some of the worst of the white people;--thieves, who instead
of being kept in prison, were sent to Australia to work hard for many
years. It is a sad thing for Australia, that so many thieves have been
sent there, because after their punishment was over, and they were set at
liberty, some remained in the land, and did a great deal of harm.
Colonists are people who come of their own accord to earn their living as
best they can.
It is a common sight when travelling in Australia, to meet a dray drawn
by bullocks, laden with furniture, and white people. It is a family going
to their new farm. In the dray there are pigs, and you may hear them
grunting; there are fowls, too, shut up in a basket; and besides, there
are plants and tools. When the family arrive at the place where they mean
to settle, they find no house, nor garden, nor fields, only a wild
forest. Immediately they pitch a tent for the mother and her daughters to
sleep in, while the father, his sons, and his laborers, sleep by the fire
in the open air. The next morning, the men begin to fell trees to make a
hut, and they finish it in a week;--not a very grand dwelling, it is
true, but good enough for the fine weather; the floor is made of the hard
clay from the enormous ant hills; the walls--of great slabs of wood; the
roof--of wooden tiles, and the windows--of calico. When the hut is
finished, a hen-house, and a pig-sty are built, and a dairy also
underground. A garden is soon planted, and there the vines, and the
peach-trees bear beautiful fruit. The daughters attend to the rearing of
the fowls, and the milking of the cows, and soon have a plentiful supply
of eggs and butter. The men clear the ground of trees, in order to sow
wheat and potatoes. Thus the family soon have all their wants supplied;
and they find time by degrees to build a stone house, with eight large
rooms; and when it is completed, they give up their wooden hut to one of
the laborers. This is the way of life in the "Bush;" for such is the name
given to the wild parts of Australia.
Some settlers keep large flocks of sheep, and gain money by selling the
wool and the fat, to make cloth and tallow. A shepherd in Australia leads
a very lonely life among the hills, and he is obliged to keep ever upon
the watch against the wild dogs. These voracious animals prowl about in
troops, and cruelly bite numbers of the sheep, and then devour as many as
they can. Happily there are no _large_ wild beasts, such as wolves, and
bears, lions, and tigers; for these would devour the shepherd as well as
But there are _men_, called "bush-rangers," as fierce as wild beasts.
These are convicts who have escaped from punishment. They often come to
the settlers' houses, and murder the inhabitants.
The natives are not nearly as dangerous as these wicked _white_ men;
indeed _they_ are generally very harmless, unless provoked by
ill-treatment. They are willing to make themselves useful, by reaping
corn, and washing sheep; and a little reward satisfies them, such as a
blanket, or an old coat. When some of the flock have strayed, the blacks
will take great pains to look for them, and seem as much pleased when
they have found them, as if they were their own sheep. The black women
can help in the wash-house, and in the farm-yard; but they are too much
besmeared with grease to be fit for the kitchen. It is wise never to give
a good dinner to a black, till his work is done; because he always eats
so much, that he can work no more that day.
Some of these poor blacks are very faithful and affectionate. There was
one who lived near a settler's hut, and he used to come there every
morning before the master was up; he would enter very gently for fear of
waking him,--light the fire by rubbing two pieces of wood together, and
set the kettle on to boil; then he would approach the bed, and putting
his hand affectionately on the hand of the sleeper would whisper in his
ear, till he saw him open his eyes, when he would greet him with a kind
and smiling look. These attentions were the mark of his attachment to the
This black was as faithful, as he was affectionate. Once he was sent by a
farmer on a message. It was this, "Take this letter to my brother, and
he will give you sixpence, and then spend the sixpence in pipes for me."
The black man took the letter, and went towards the place where the
brother lived. He met him on horseback. The brother after reading the
letter, rode away without giving the sixpence to the bearer. What was the
poor black man to do? "Shall I go back," thought he, "without the pipes?
No. I will try to get some money." He went to a house that he knew of,
and offered to chop some wood for sixpence, and with _that sixpence_ he
bought the pipes. Was not this being a good servant? This was not
eye-service; it was the service of the heart. But there are not many
natives like this man. They are generally soon tired of working. For
instance, a boy called Jackey, left a good master who would have provided
for him, to live again wild in the woods, and went away with the blanket
off his bed.
ANIMALS.--There are few of _our_ animals in Australia, or of _their_
animals in England. There is no hare, no rabbit, no nightingale, no
thrush, in Australia. _Once_ there were no horses, nor cows, nor sheep,
nor pigs; but _now_ there are a great many. Much terrified were the
natives at the sight of the first horse which came from England; for they
had never seen such a large animal before.
The largest beast in Australia is the Kangaroo, remarkable for its short
fore-legs, and its great strong hind-legs, and for the pocket in which it
shelters its little one. It is a gentle creature, and can be easily
tamed. A pet kangaroo may often be seen walking about a settler's garden,
cropping the grass upon the lawn. But though easily _tamed_, a wild
kangaroo is not easily _caught_; for it makes immense springs in the air,
far higher than a horse could leap, though it is not as big as a sheep.
When hunted by dogs, it gets, when it can, into the water, and turning
round, and standing still, dips the dogs, one by one, till it drowns
There is another beast, called the opossum, not much bigger than a large
cat, and it also has a pocket for its young ones. But instead of cropping
the grass, it eats the leaves of trees. It has a gentle face like a deer,
and a long tail like a monkey. It hides itself, as the squirrel does, in
the hollows of trees. Like the owl, it is never seen in the day, but at
night it comes out to feed. The blacks are very cunning in finding out
the holes where the opossums are hidden, and they know how to drag them
out by their long tails, without getting bitten by their sharp teeth.
With the skin of the opossum the natives make a cloak.
The wild dogs, or dingoes, are odious animals. They may be heard yelling
at night to the terror of the shepherd, and the farmer. They are bold
enough to rush into a yard, and to carry off a calf, or a pig; and when
they have dragged it into the woods, they cruelly eat the legs first, and
do not kill it for a long while.
These three--the kangaroo, the opossum, and the dingo,--are the principal
beasts of Australia.
Among the birds, the emu is the most remarkable. It is nearly as tall as
an ostrich, and has beautiful soft feathers, though not as beautiful as
the ostrich's. But the most curious point in the emu is,--it has no
tongue. You may suppose, therefore, that it is neither a singing bird,
nor a talking bird; it only makes a little noise in its throat. But if
_it_ is silent, there are numbers of parrots, and cockatoos, to fill the
air with their screams. In England, these birds are thought a great deal
of, but in Australia, they are killed to make into pies, or into soup.
Parrot-pie and cockatoo-soup, are common dishes there. However, many of
the parrots and cockatoos, are caught by the blacks, and sold to the
English, who send them to England in the ships.
There are not such singing birds in Australia, as there are here. Though
there is a robin red-breast there, he does not sing as sweetly as he does
here. But there are _laughing_ birds in Australia. There is a bird called
the "laughing jackass." He laughs very loud three times a day. He begins
in the morning;--suddenly a hoarse loud laugh is heard,--then another,
then another,--till a whole troop of birds seem laughing all together,
and go on laughing for a few minutes;--and then they are all quiet again.
Such a noise must awaken many a sleeper on his bed. At noon the laugh is
heard again. At evening there is another general fit of laughter. These
birds are not like children, who laugh at no particular hour, but often
twenty times a day. The laughing jackass is almost as useful as a clock,
and it is called, "the bushman's clock."
This is a famous place, for here the English first settled, and here it
was thieves were sent from England as a punishment. Some were sent there
for fourteen years, and some for twenty-one years, and some for life. How
did the place get the beautiful name of Botany? which means "the
knowledge of flowers." Because there were so many beautiful flowers seen
there, when Captain Cook first beheld it. Yet the name Botany Bay, does
not seem beautiful to us; for it reminds us not of roses, but of rogues;
not of violets, but of violent men; not of lilies, but of villains.
This town is close to Botany Bay. It is the largest town in Australia.
It is a very wicked city, because so many convicts have been sent there.
Many of the people are the children of convicts, and have been brought up
very ill by their parents. Of course there are many robberies in such a
city, far more than there are in London. Who would like to live there!
yet it is a fine city, and by the sea-side, with a harbor, where hundreds
of ships might ride,--safe from the storm. It is plain, too, that Sydney
is full of rich people, for the streets are thronged with carriages,
driving rapidly along. The convicts often become rich, after their time
of punishment is over, by keeping public-houses, and when rich they keep
If you were in Sydney, you would hardly think you were in a savage
island; for you would see no savages in the streets. What is become of
those who once lived in these parts? They are all dead, or gone to other
parts of the island. The last black near Sydney, used to talk of the old
times, and say, "When I was a pick-a-ninny, plenty of black fellow then.
Only one left now, mitter."
It is much better to live here than in Sydney, because convicts have
never been sent here. Numbers of honest poor people are leaving England
and Ireland, every year, to go to Adelaide. When they arrive at the
coast, they get into cars, and are driven seven miles, passing by many
pretty cottages, and gardens, till they arrive at Adelaide. There they
find themselves in the midst of gardens; for the houses are not crowded
together, as in our English towns, but are placed in the midst of trees,
and flowers, and grass; because there is plenty of room in Australia.
But there is one great evil both in Sydney and in Adelaide, which is the
dust blown from the desert, and which almost chokes the inhabitants. If
there were more rain in Australia, there would be less dust.
Australia is divided into three parts:--
I. New South Wales. Capital, Sydney.
II. Western Australia. Capital, Perth.
III. South Australia. Capital, Adelaide.
 The Australian mountains are about seven thousand feet high.
VAN DIEMAN'S LAND.
This island is as cool as Great Britain; yet it is not a pleasant land to
live in; for it is filled with convicts. There are no natives there now;
they died away gradually, except a few, who were taken by the English to
a small island near, called "Flinder's Island." They were taken there
that they might be safe; yet they never ceased to sigh, and to cry after
their native land.
THE YOUNG SAVAGES.
Many travellers have tried to see the land in the midst of Australia, but
hitherto they have not succeeded. After going a little way, they have
been obliged to return, and why? Because they have found no water.
I will give you an account of the journey of Mr. Eyre. This traveller
wished to go into the midst of the land, but finding he could not, he
travelled along the coast, at that part called the Great Bight (or the
He set out from Adelaide with a large party, but various accidents
occurred by the way, and at last he found himself with only one
Englishman, and three native boys. The eldest was almost a man. His name
was Wylie, and he was a good-tempered, lively youth. The second was named
Neramberein. I shall have nothing good to relate of him, but a great deal
of evil; for he was indeed a very wicked boy. The youngest was called
Cootachah--a boy who was easily induced to follow bad examples.
Mr. Eyre was the chief person in the party, and his English companion was
Mr. Baxter. Ten horses carried the packages, and six sheep were made to
follow, that they might be killed one by one for food.
All these poor animals suffered terribly from want of water. Sometimes
they went a hundred miles without a refreshing draught. The horses became
so weak, that the travellers were unwilling to mount their backs; and as
for the sheep, they could scarcely crawl along.
Many ways of getting water were tried. One way was digging up the roots
of trees. A little,--a very little,--water may often be squeezed out of
the end of a root; because the root is the mouth of the tree, and sucks
up water from the ground. Another way of getting water was by gathering
up the dew in a sponge. Enough dew to make a cup of tea might sometimes
be obtained; but not enough for the poor beasts to have any. When the
travellers, by digging, could make a well, then they were glad indeed;
for then the beasts could be refreshed as well as themselves.
The whole party were become so weak from fatigue and thirst, that they
could not get on fast, and they found it necessary to save their food as
much as possible, that it might last to the end of the long journey. They
took a little flour every day out of their bag, and made it into a paste.
Sometimes they caught a fish, or shot a bird or beast, and then they had
a hearty meal. When they killed one of their sheep, then they had plenty
of mutton. At last, all the sheep were killed but one.
It happened at this time, that one of the horses was so sick that he
could not move. It was plain he would soon die; therefore the travellers
determined to kill him, and eat his flesh. Mr. Eyre was grieved at the
thought of killing his horse, neither could he bear the idea of eating
horse flesh; but then he feared, that if the horse were not killed, the
whole party would be starved.
The native boys were delighted when they knew the horse was to be eaten;
for they had long been fretting for more food. They would like to have
devoured it _all_ on the spot; but they were not allowed to do so; the
greater part of the flesh was cut off in thin slices, dipped in salt
water, and then hung up in the sun to dry, to serve as provision for many
days to come. The boys were permitted to devour the rest of the carcase.
With what haste they prepared the feast! They made a fire close to the
carcase, and then cut off lumps of flesh, which they roasted quickly, and
then ate. They spent the whole afternoon in this manner, looking more
like ravenous wolves than human creatures. When night came, they were not
willing to leave their meat, but took as much as ever they could carry
into their beds, that they might eat whenever they awoke. Next day, they
returned to the roasting and eating, and the next night again they took
meat with them to bed.
Mr. Eyre wondered at their gluttony and he thought it necessary to give
them an allowance of food, instead of letting them eat as much as they
liked. He gave five pounds of meat to each boy every day. Five pounds is
as much as a shoulder of mutton--and ten English boys would think it
quite enough for dinner; but the Australian boys were not satisfied!
Mr. Eyre began to suspect that in the night they stole some of the meat
hanging up to dry on the trees. Therefore one night he weighed the meat,
and in the morning weighed it again. He found that four pounds were gone.
He thought it was very ungrateful of boys, to whom he gave so much, to
steal from his small stock. As a punishment he gave them less meat next
day than usual.
He entreated the boys to tell him who was the thief. The eldest and
youngest declared that they had not stolen any meat; but Neramberein
would not answer at all, and looked sulky and angry, and muttered
something about going away, and taking Wylie with him. Mr. Eyre replied,
that he might go if he pleased, while at the same time he warned him of
the dangers of the way.
The next morning, as soon as breakfast was over, the three boys all rose
up and walked away. Mr. Eyre called back the youngest, as he felt he was
misled by his elders, but he let the others go. They had stayed with him
till the horse was all eaten up, except the dried pieces--but now they
hoped to get more food, when travelling alone, than with Mr. Eyre.
As soon as the boys were gone, Mr. Eyre determined to stop some time
longer where he was, that he might not overtake them. There was one sheep
still remaining, and which seemed very restless all by itself. This
sheep was killed for food, and in that place there was plenty of water;
so that the little company fared well that day and the next; especially
as Mr. Baxter had the good fortune to kill an eagle, which made an
Just as the travellers had finished their evening meal, they were
astonished to see the two runaway boys approaching. Wylie came running
up, declaring that both he and his companions were sorry for their bad
behavior, and were anxious to be received again, not being able to get
enough to eat. But though Wylie acted in this frank manner, his companion
was very sulky. He said nothing, but seated himself by the fire, pouting
and frowning, and evidently much vexed at being obliged to come back. Mr.
Eyre thought it well to give the boys a lecture on their bad conduct,
especially upon their thefts; for they now owned that they had stolen
meat from the trees, though they had before denied it. But though Mr.
Eyre reproved the boys, he treated them very kindly, for he gave them
some tea, and bread and meat for supper.
The next day the whole party continued their journey. They were obliged
to be very sparing of their food, lest when it was gone they should get
no more. But their greatest trial was the want of water.
After travelling during four days, they stopped one evening in a rocky
place at the top of high cliffs, hoping that if any rain should fall,
some might be caught in the hollow places among the rocks. That evening
they ate no supper; for having had dinner, they might do without supper.
Before they lay down to sleep, they made themselves places to sleep in,
by setting up boughs, as shelters from the wind. They also piled up their
goods in a great heap, and covered it with oil skin, to keep out the
damp. Mr. Eyre did not sleep when the rest did, for he undertook to watch
the horses till eleven at night, and then he agreed to change places with
The hour was almost come, and Mr. Eyre was beginning to lead the horses
towards the sleeping place, when he was startled by hearing a gun go off.
He called out,--but receiving no answer, he grew alarmed, and leaving the
horses, ran towards the spot, whence the noise had come.
Presently he met Wylie, running very fast, and crying out, "Oh! Massa,
Oh! Massa, come here."
"What is the matter?" inquired Mr. Eyre.
Wylie made no answer.
With hurried steps, Mr. Eyre accompanied him towards the camp. What a
sight struck his eyes! His friend Baxter, lying on the ground, weltering
in his blood, and in the agonies of DEATH.
The two younger boys were not there, and the goods which had been covered
by the oil-skin, lay scattered in confusion on the ground. It was too
clear that one of the boys had KILLED poor Baxter. No doubt it was
Neramberein who had done it!
It seems that the boys had attempted to steal some of the goods, and that
while they were gathering them together, Baxter had awaked, and had come
forth from his sleeping place, and that _then_ one of the boys had shot
Mr. Eyre raised the dying man from the ground where he was lying
prostrate, and he then found that a ball had entered his left breast, and
that his life was fast departing. In a few minutes he expired!
What were the feelings of the lonely traveller! Here he was in the midst
of a desert, with no companion but one young savage, and that young
savage was not one whom he could trust; for he knew not what part Wylie
had taken in the deeds of the night. He suspected that he had intended to
go away with the other boys, but that when Baxter was murdered, he had
grown alarmed. Wylie indeed denied that he had known anything of the
robbery, but then he was not a boy whose word could be believed.
The remainder of that dreadful night was passed by Mr. Eyre, in watching
the horses. Anxiously he waited for the first streak of daylight. He then
drove the horses to the camp, and once more beheld the body of his
fellow-traveller. How suddenly had his soul been hurried into eternity,
and into the presence of his God!
It was Wylie's business to light the fire, and prepare the breakfast.
Meanwhile, Mr. Eyre examined the baggage to see how much had been stolen.
These were the chief articles he missed. All the bread, consisting of
five loaves, some mutton, tea and sugar, tobacco and pipes, a small keg
of water, and two guns. And what was left for the traveller? A large
quantity of flour, a large keg of water, some tea and sugar, a gun, and
pistols. But would these have been left, had the ungrateful boys been
strong enough to carry them away?
Mr. Eyre desired before leaving the fatal spot to bury the body of his
friend; but the rocks around were so hard, that it was impossible to dig
a grave. All he was able to do, was to wrap the corpse in a blanket
before he abandoned it forever.
Slowly and silently he left the sorrowful spot, leading one horse,
while Wylie drove the others after it. During the heat of the day, they
stopped to rest. It was four in the afternoon, and they were soon going
to set out again, when they perceived at a distance--TWO WHITE FIGURES!
two white figures! and soon knew them to be the two guilty boys, wrapped
in their blankets.
Mr. Eyre had some fear lest the young murderer should shoot him also; yet
he thought it wise to advance boldly towards him, with his gun in his
hand. He perceived that each of the wicked youths held a gun, and seemed
ready to shoot. But as he approached, they drew back. He wished to speak
to them in order to persuade them not to follow him on his journey, but
to go another way; however he could not get near them; but he heard them
cry out, "O Massa, we don't want you; we want Wylie." The boys repeated
the name of Wylie over and over again; yet Wylie answered not, but
remained quietly with the horses. At length Mr. Eyre turned away, and
continued his journey. The boys followed at some distance, calling out
for Wylie till the darkness came on.
Mr. Eyre was so anxious to get beyond the reach of these wicked youths,
that he walked eighteen miles that evening. And he never saw them again!
I do not know whether he had ever told them of the true God, of that EYE
which never SLEEPS, of that EYE which beholds ROBBERS and MURDERERS in
the night;--but whether he had told them or not of this great God, they
must have KNOWN that they were acting wickedly when they robbed their
benefactor, and murdered his friend; and they must have felt very
MISERABLE after they had done those deeds.
Alone with Wylie, Mr. Eyre pursued his journey along the high clefts of
the Great Bight, or Bay.
For five days they were without water for the horses; at last they dug
some wells in the sand. But by this time one of the horses was grown so
weak, that he could scarcely crawl along. This horse, Mr. Eyre determined
to kill for food. Wylie, delighted with the idea, exclaimed, "Massa, I
shall sit up, and eat the whole night." And he kept his word. While his
master was skinning the poor beast, he made a fire close by, and soon
began tearing off bits of flesh, roasting, and eating them, as fast as he
could. Mr. Eyre, after cutting off the best parts of the flesh to dry,
allowed Wylie to eat the rest. See the young glutton, with the head, the
feet, and the inside, permitted to devour it as best he could! He
hastened to make an oven, in which to bake about twenty pounds to feast
upon during the night. It is not wonderful, if during that night he was
heard to make a dismal groaning, and to complain that he was very ill.
He _said_, indeed, that it was _working_ too _hard_, had made him ill,
but his master thought it was _eating_ too _much_, for whenever he woke,
he found the boy gnawing a bone.
Next day, Wylie was not able to spend his whole time over the carcase,
for he had to go, and look for a lost foal; but the day after, it was
hard to get him away from the bones.
For some time the travellers lived upon dried horse flesh, with a
kangaroo, or a fish, as a little change. Wylie continued to eat
immoderately, though often rolling upon the ground, and crying out,
"Mendyat," or ill.
One night he appeared to be in a very ill-humor, and Mr. Eyre tried to
find out the reason. At last Wylie said in an angry tone, "The dogs have
eaten the skin." It seems he had hung the skin of a kangaroo upon a bush,
intending to eat it by-and-bye, and the wild dogs had stolen the dainty
morsel. Wylie was restored to his usual good-humor by the sight of some
fine fishes his master had caught. Next time the boy shot a kangaroo, he
took good care of the skin, folding it up, and hiding it.
One day he was so happy as to catch two opossums in a tree. His master
determined to see how Wylie would behave, if left entirely to himself.
He sat silently by the fire, while Wylie was cooking one opossum. The
boy, having got it ready for his supper, took the other to his sleeping
place. His master inquired what he intended to do with it. Wylie replied,
"I shall be hungry in the morning, and I am keeping it for my breakfast."
Then Mr. Eyre perceived that the greedy boy intended to offer him neither
supper nor breakfast. Accordingly he took out his bag of flour, and said
to Wylie, "Very well, we will each eat our own food; you eat the opossums
you shot, and I eat the flour I have; and I will give you no more." In
this manner, Mr. Eyre hoped to show the boy the folly of his selfishness.
Wylie was frightened at the idea of getting no more flour, and
immediately offered the smaller opossum to his master, and promised to
cook it himself. What a selfish, and ungrateful boy! Wylie had a wicked
heart by nature, and so have _we_. Only _he_ had not been taught what was
right, as _we_ have been. This is a prayer which would suit well every
child, and every man in the world, "Create in me a clean heart, O God,
and renew a right spirit within me."
Mr. Eyre continued to be kind to Wylie, though he saw the boy did not
really love him.
But the troubles of the journey were nearly at an end. At last the
travellers saw a ship a few miles from the shore. Oh I how anxious they
were that the sailors should see them! What could they do? They kindled a
fire on a rock, and they made a great deal of smoke come out of the fire.
Soon a boat was seen approaching the shore. How great was the joy of the
weary travellers. The sailors in the boat were Frenchmen, but they were
not the less kind on that account. They invited Mr. Eyre and Wylie to
accompany them to their ship.
When the young savage found himself on board, he was almost wild with
delight, for he had now as much to eat as he could desire, and he began
eating biscuits so fast, that the sailors began to be afraid lest he
should eat them all; and they were glad to give him fishes instead, as
they could catch plenty of them.
For twelve days Wylie and his master lived in the ship, and then left it,
laden with provisions, and dressed in warm clothes.
They had still many miles to go along the shore, but they suffered no
more from want of food and water.
Great was their rapture when they first caught sight of the hills of St.
George's Sound; for then they knew their journey would soon end. But they
had rivers to cross on the way, and in trying to get the horses over,
they nearly lost the poor beasts, and their own lives too. For three days
their clothes were dripping with wet, and the last night was one of the
worst; but then they knew it was the LAST, and that thought enabled them
to bear all. So does the Christian feel when near the end of his journey.
He is in the midst of storms, and wading through deep waters, even the
deep waters of DEATH; but he knows that he is near HOME.
It was in the midst of a furious storm, that these travellers arrived at
their journey's end. Though they were now close to the town of Albany,
neither man nor beast were to be seen; for neither would venture out. At
last, a native appeared, and he knew Wylie, and greeted him joyfully,
telling him at the same time that his friends had given him up for dead a
long while ago. This native, by a loud shrill cry, let his countrymen
know that Wylie was found; and presently a multitude of men, women, and
children, came rushing rapidly from the town, and up the hill to meet
him. His parents and brethren folded him in their arms, while all around
welcomed him with shouts of joy. His master was kindly received at the
house of a friend; but he did not meet with so warm a welcome as Wylie,
for he was not like him in the midst of his family.
The kind master overlooked all Wylie's faults during the journey, and
remembered only his kindness in keeping with him to the end. He even
spoke in his favor to the government, requesting that Wylie might have a
daily allowance of food as a reward for his good conduct. What great
reason had this young savage to rejoice that he had not listened to the
enticements of his wicked comrades, when they called him so often by his
name, and tried to induce him to forsake his kind master!
Mickey was born in the wilds of Australia; yet he was a highly favored
boy; for he became servant to a missionary. This was far better than
being, like Wylie, the companion of a traveller.
Mickey was a merry and active little fellow, and was a great favorite
with his master's children. The older ones taught him to read, and the
little ones played with him. During the day, Mickey took care of the
cattle, and at night he slept in a shed close by his master's house. He
might have been a happy boy, but he soon fell into sin and sorrow.
One evening he was in the cooking-house, eating his supper with another
native boy, his fellow-servant. The oven was hot, and the bread was
baking. Mickey opened the door of the oven, and looked in. That was
wrong; it was the first step towards evil. Mickey had eaten a good
supper, and ought to have been satisfied; but, like his countrymen, he
had an enormous appetite, and was always ready to eat too much when he
could. He took some of the hot bread, and gave some to his
fellow-servant. How like was his conduct to that of Eve, when she took
the fruit, and gave some to Adam!
That night Mickey was nowhere to be found, nor his little fellow-servant
either. Where could they be? Their master sent people to search for them;
but no one had seen them. It seemed strange indeed, that a boy who had
been so kindly treated, and who had seemed as happy as Mickey, should run
away. The good missionary and his children were in great grief, fearing
that some accident had befallen the lads.
But when the time came to take the bread out of the oven, they began to
suspect why Mickey had gone away. They saw some one had stolen large
pieces of bread. They said, "Perhaps it was Mickey who stole the bread,
and perhaps he is ashamed, and so he has run away." What a pity it was
that Mickey did not come, and confess his fault; he would have been
pardoned and restored to favor. Even a good boy may fall into a great
sin; but then he will own it, and ask forgiveness, both of God and man.
Still Mickey was not like those hardened boys who robbed Mr. Eyre, for he
Month after month passed away, but no Mickey appeared. The missionary
feared that the boy would never return, but live and die amongst his
One day, however, he was told that a man was at the door, who wanted to
speak to him.
"Who is he?" inquired the missionary.
"A schoolmaster, sir," replied the servant.
"And what does he want?"
"He has brought with him some native boys, and he wants you to come out
and see them, and speak a few words to them about their Saviour."
The missionary gladly consented to go out to behold so pleasing a sight,
as a school of native boys. As soon as he appeared, several young voices
called out, "Mickey no come."
The missionary was surprised, and inquired of the boys, "What do you
mean? where is Mickey?"
"Mickey no come," repeated the boys. "He too much frightened."
"Why is he afraid?" asked the missionary.
"Because he steal de bread," replied the boys.
The missionary now began to look around, and soon espied Mickey, trying
to hide himself behind a fence. He called him; but Mickey, instead of
coming, went further off. Two or three boys then ran towards him, and
attempted to bring him back, but Mickey resisted.
The missionary then went into the house hoping that the trembling
culprit, seeing he was gone, would come out of his hiding-place.
Very soon he was told, that Mickey was standing with the other
boys at the door. Then the good missionary appeared again. Looking kindly
at Mickey, he said, "Why did you run away?"
"Because me steal de bread; me very sorry."
The missionary held out his hand to the sorrowful offender, saying, "I
forgive you, Mickey." The boy eagerly seized the kind hand, and holding
it fast, and looking earnestly up in the missionary's face, he said,
"When me steal again, you must whip me--and whip me--and whip
me--very--very much." Again the missionary assured the boy he had
entirely forgiven him--and then Mickey began to jump about for joy.
How glad Mickey would have been to return to the service of his old
master! But that could not be; for that master was just going to set sail
for England, to visit his home and friends, and he could not take Mickey
with him. Just before he went, he provided a feast for many of the native
children, and gave them a parting address. Mickey was there--no longer
afraid--but glad to look up in the face of his beloved friend; for now he
knew he was forgiven.
When the moment came to say "Farewell," the children ran forward, eager
to grasp the missionary's hand--but none pressed that hand so warmly and
so sorrowfully, as the little runaway.
I know not whether that generous master, and that penitent servant ever
again met upon earth; but I have much hope they will meet in heaven; for
Mickey seems to have been sorry for his sin; and we know the promise: "If
we confess our sins, God is faithful and just to forgive us our sins."
And why? Because the blood of Christ cleanseth from all sin. There are
many sinners who were once as much afraid of God, as Mickey was of his
master; but who have been pardoned, and who will be present at his
[Illustration: A CEDAR TREE.]
ATTRACTIVE AND INTERESTING
ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS.
* * * * *
Blossoms of Childhood.
By the author of the "Broken Bud." 16mo. 75 cents.
Glory, Glory, Glory, and other Narratives. 25 cents.
The Farmer's Daughter. Illustrated. 30 cents.
Commandment with Promise.
By the author of "The Week," &c. Illustrated. 75 cents.
Tales of the Scottish Peasantry. 18mo. 50 cents.
The Cottage Fireside. 40 cents.
Duncan, Mary Lundie.
Rhymes for my Children. 25 cents.
Far Off in Asia and Australia.
Described by the author of the "Peep of Day," &c. Illustrated. 16mo.
The Listener. Illustrated. $1 00.
Or, the Talisman. Illustrated. 16mo.
By the author of "Little Henry and his Bearer." Illustrated. 75 cts.
Or, the Orphan. Illustrated. 75 cents.
Jessy Allan. 18mo. 25 cents.
Decision, or Religion must be all or nothing. 25 cents.
Anna Ross. Illustrated. 30 cents.
The Happy Farmer's Lad. Illustrated. 40 cents.
My School Boy Days.
Illustrated. 18mo. 30 cents.
My Youthful Companions.
A Sequel to the above. Illustrated. 30 cents.
My Grandfather Gregory.
Illustrated. 25 cents.
My Grandmama Gilbert.
By the same author. 25 cents.
To Catch Young Flies. Illustrated. Square. 50 cents.
Tales and Illustrations of Lying. 18mo. 40 cents.
Addresses--Observations--Thoughts--Walks in London--Homely
Hints--Country Strolls--Sea Captain--Grandparents--Isle of
Wight--Pithy Papers--Pleasant Tales--North American Indians.
12 volumes. Each 40 cents.
Osborne, Mrs. David.
The World of Waters. Illustrated. 75 cents.
By Mrs. L.P. Hopkins. Illustrated. 40 cents.
Peep of Day,
and "Line upon Line," and "Precept on Precept." 3 volumes.
Each 30 cents.
Tales of the Scottish Covenanters. 16mo. 75 cents.
Helen of the Glen. 18mo. 25 cents.
The Persecuted Family. 18mo. 25 cents.
Ralph Gemmell. 18mo. 25 cents.
Stories on the Lord's Prayer.
By the author of "Edward and Miriam."
Sigourney, Mrs. L.H.
Water Drops. 16mo. 75 cents.
Letters to my Pupils. Portrait. 75 cents.
Olive Leaves. Illustrated. 75 cents.
Boys' Book. 40 cents.
Girls' Book. 40 cents.
Child's Book. 35 cents.
Charlie Seymour. 18mo. 30 cts.
Hymns for Infant Minds. 40 cents.
Limed Twigs. Colored plates. 50 cents.
Contributions of Q.Q. Illustrated. $1.
Original Poems. Illustrated. 40 cents.
The Rainbow in the North. Illustrated. 75 cents.
By the author of the "Commandment with Promise." 75 cents.
Lights and Shadows of Scottish Life. 75 cents.