In the interior no fresh water is obtainable, although in the rainy season some of a brackish quality can be had by sinking shallow wells. This water rises and falls in the wells in unison with the tides. Here and there are very extensive swamps of sea-water, evaporrated to a strong brine; the margins of these are clothed with a fair growth of the pandanus or screw-pine palm, the fruit of which, when ripe, forms a nutritious and palatable food for the natives of the Equatorial Pacific Islands.
The island where Captain Cook set up his observatory is but a small strip of sandy soil, clothed with a few coco-palms, some screw-palms (pandanus), and a thick-matted carpet of a vine called At At by the natives. The only quadrupeds are rats, and some huge land tortoises, similar to those of the Galapagos Islands. They are most hideous-looking creatures, and, being of nocturnal habits, like the great robber crab, are apt to produce a most terrifying impression upon the beholder, if met with in the loneliness of the night. The present human occupants of Christmas Island are, however, well supplied with pigs and poultry; and though this far-away dot of Britains empire beyond the seas is scarcely known to the world, and visited but twice a year by a trading vessel from Sydney, they are happy and contented in their home in this lonely isle of the mid-Pacific.
BILGER, OF SYDNEY
A death in the family brought about my fatal acquaintance with Bilger. A few days after the funeral, as my sister and I sat talking on the verandah of our cottage (which overlooked the waters of Sydney Harbour) and listened to the pouring rain upon the shingled roof, we saw a man open the garden gate and come slowly up to the house. He carried an ancient umbrella, the tack lashings of which on one side had given way entirely, showing six bare ribs. As he walked up the path, his large, sodden boots made a nasty, squelching sound, and my sister, who has a large heart, at once said, Poor creature; I wonder who he is. I hope it isnt the coal man come for his money.
He went round to the back door and, after letting himself drain off a bit, knocked gently and with exceeding diffidence.
I asked him his business. He said he wanted to see my wife.
Not here. Gone away for a month.
Dear, dear, how sad! Broken down, no doubt, with a mothers grief. Is there any other lady in the family whom I could see?
What the deuce do you want? I began angrily; then, as he raised his weak, watery eyes to mine, and I saw that his grey hairs were as wet as his boots, I relented. Perhaps he was someone who knew my wife or her people, and wanted to condole with her over the death of her baby. He looked sober enough, so, as he seemed much agitated, I asked him to sit down, and said I would send my sister to him. Then I went back to my pipe and chair. Ten minutes later my sister Kate came to me with her handkerchief to her eyes.
Do go and see the old fellow. He has such a sympathetic nature. Im sure I should have cried aloud had I stayed any longer. Anyone would think he had known poor little Teddie ever since he was born. Ive asked Mary to make him a cup of tea.
Who is he?
I dont know his name, but he seems so sympathetic. And he says he should be so pleased if he might see you again for a few minutes. He says, too, that you have a good and kind face. I told him that you would be sure to take at least a dozen of those in cream and gold. Theres nothing at all vulgar; quite the reverse.
What are you talking about, Kate? Who is this sodden old lunatic, and what on earth are you crying for?
My sister nearly sobbed. I always thought that what you derisively termed mortuary bards were horrid people, but this old man has a beautiful nature. And hes very wetand hungry too, Im sure; and Mary looks at him as if he were a dog. Do try and help him. I think we might get one or two dozen cream and gold cards, and two dozen black-edged.
And then hes a journalist, too. Hes told me quite a sad little story of his life struggle, and the moment I told him you were on the Evening News he quite brightened up, and said he knew your name quite well.
Kate, I said, I dont want to see the man. What the deuce does he want? If he is one of those loafing scoundrels of undertakers and mortuary masons touts, just send him about his business; give him a glass of whisky and tell Mary to clear him out.
My sister said that to send an old man out in such weather was not like me. Surely I would at least speak a kind word to him.
In sheer desperation I went out to the man. He addressed me in husky tones, and said that he desired to express his deep sympathy with me in my affliction, also that he was a member of the Fourth Estate. Seven years before he had edited the Barangoora News, but his determined opposition to a dishonest Government led to his ruin, and now
All right, old man; stow all that. What do you want?
He looked at me reproachfully, and taking up a small leather bag, said that he represented Messrs , Monumental Masons and Memorial Card Designers and Printers, and should feel pleased if I would look at his samples.
He was such a wretched, hungry-looking, down-upon-his-beam-ends old fellow, that I could not refuse to inspect his wares. And then his boots filled me with pity. For such a little man he had the biggest boots I ever sawbaggy, elastic sides, and toes turned up, with the after part of the uppers sticking out some inches beyond the frayed edges of his trousers. As he sat down and drew these garments up, and his bare, skinny legs showed above his wrecked boots, his feet looked like two water-logged cutters under bare poles, with the water running out of the scuppers.
Mary brought the whisky. I poured him out a good, stiff second mates nip. It did my heart good to see him drink it, and hear the soft ecstatic Ah, ah, ah, which broke from him when he put the glass down; it was a Te Deum Laudamus.
Having briefly intimated to him that I had no intention of buying a handsome granite monument, with suitable inscription, or twelve lines of verse, for £4, 17s. 6d., I took up his packet of In Memoriam cards and went through them. The first one was a hand-drawn design in cream and goldKates fancy. It represented in the centre an enormously bloated infant with an idiotic leer, lying upon its back on a blue cloud with scalloped edges, whilst two male angels, each with an extremely vicious expression, were pulling the cloud along by means of tow-lines attached to their wings. Underneath were these words in MS.: More angels can be added, if desired, at an extra charge of 6d. each.
No. 2 represented a disorderly flight of cherubims, savagely attacking a sleeping infant in its cradle, which was supported on either hand by two vulgar-looking female angels blowing bullock horns in an apathetic manner.
No. 3 rather took my fancythere was so much in itfour large fowls flying across the empyrean; each bird carried a rose as large as a cabbage in its beak, and apparently intended to let them drop upon a group of family mourners beneath. The MS. inscribed said, If photographs are supplied of members of the Mourning Family, our artist will reproduce same in group gathered round the deceased. If doves are not approved, cherubims, angels, or floral designs may be used instead, for small extra charge.