Volltext Seite (XML)
262 THE PHOTOGRAPHIC NEWS. [APBIL 24, 1885. TO THE CAPE. BY C. HAY WOODS. Ding dong ! “ Any more for the shore ?" Ting-a-ling is heard from the little bell that warns the engineers to “Stand by I” Splash, splash goes the screw as it is first put in motion, and the vessel is steaming slowly down the harbour. The rain is coming swiftly down, almost drench ing us ; the wind is blowing a bit, and the whole appear ance of things bids in favour of cirty weather. And we get it. As soon as the Needles were passed, the vessel began to roll, the roll steadily increased, and from the moment we left the shores of England to the moment Madeira appeared in sight, the ship rolled heavily, and the masts appeared to swing from side to side like stalks of corn in a fitful breeze. For six days only a mere handful of passengers took a walk on deck, and these few, mostly old sea-goers, were heartily glad when those six weary, monotonous days were over. The forward part of the vessel was one wet bath, and aft, on the quarter deck, the slippery timbers and the blinding spray rendered exercise a somewhat difficult thing to get, and only the exertion of keeping upright and accom modating the body to the motion of the vessel was avail able for keeping some of the muscles in order when one sat down. The sight of what seemed like a huge wall of water, the top of which was the horizon rising suddenly up before the eyes, remaining for a second suspended above, then lowered as rapidly as it rose quickly, made one dazed and giddy, so that, good sailor as I have found myself to be, I was never without a fear lest I might eventually succumb to that to me unknown, but to many less fortunate individuals familiar, sensation known as mal-de-mcr. I like a little rough weather occasionally— but on this occasion the long monotony of it tired me out, and I shall not only be content with, but even grateful for, a little smoother water in any future journey I may have occasion to take. Only one incident of any moment occurred during the first week of our passage : a great wave sweeping over the fo’c’stle snapped the fastenings of a few of the articles on deck, and carried them away. A hencoop or two were seen, and a poor dog struggling bravely but vainly with the waves; but it was a yellow dog, and, being a yellow dog, it failed to strike a chord of pity in the hearts of the spectators. What is there about a yellow dog that carries with it a touch of the ludicrous ? Is it because yellow will not har monize with, but contrasts, the blues'? Is it because We only stopped for two hours at Madeira, but that two hours gave me sufficient time to take a few views. I got a tar from the ship to carry my camera, which I put in its leather case, for the landing is bad at Funchal, and both passengers and their effects are apt to get a damping as the boat is run through the surf ; slides might get the salt water into them if carried in a canvas satchel. Safe on shore, we walked through the town in the direction of an old fort, which stands on a little eminence commanding the harbour. My first plate was exposed on the fort as it appeared between the houses of a short and narrow street; but not feeling satisfied that I had hit the right or a workable exposure, I exposed another plate on it from a slightly different point of view. Fifty yards farther on, and just outside the town, I came on a fairly attractive view from abridge, under which ran a little stream which came down the valley in front of me. The road above the stream, the hills in the distance, aud the vine-grower mending his trellis, made a view characteristic of Madeira; but the clothes drying by the side of the stream, though perhaps equally characteristic of the place, did not add to the pic ture. But it does not do to be too finicking when you have not much over an hour to spare, and so 1 took the view with its drawbacks as well. Another view from a bridge, in the midst of the town, showing one of the churches and some of the houses built, as it were, on the river’s embankment, then a view of a quiet street a little further on, and five plates have been exposed. I had one more left, but the time of the steamer’s departure was approaching, and besides, two policemen were watching me with very suspicious eyes, and police men may make themselves disagreeable when a man is taking anything. I made my way towards the quay, there fore, and just before going for the boat I made a busy street the subject of my last shot, and humoured the vanity of a few of my fellow-passengers by placing them in a conspicuous position. Thus I occupied the brief time I had at my disposal in Madeira, aud if my results are only what are usually termed “shots,” I must console myself with the reflection that that is all one usually gets during a brief stoppage of an hour or two in an unfamiliar place. After leaving Madeira our passage was smooth enough, and it was quite refreshing to be able to take a meal with out pouring your soup into your lap, without having to clutch your plate, knife, and fork with your hands, and the table with your elbows, and without being bombarded by saltcellars and other missiles which, scorning to be kept within bounds, bounced over the fiddles which ineffectually tried to keep the tables in something like order. And then, too, our fellow-passengers suddenly recovered their health and spirits, and friendship-making, quizzing, flirt ing, scandal-spreading, and all the other usual accompani ments of ship life asserted their sway. There was one passenger, a colonial genius, who tackled me on astronomy, and imparted to me an original and somewhat startling theory on comets. “ Look here,” said he ; “ this is my theory. You know some scientific chaps; suppose that this earth of ours is like a bombshell, filled with melted stuff. Now, I say that these here comets arn’t exactly like our earth, but only something like it. They’re just filled up with water, and when they get near the sun the water boils, and out come jets of steam, and that’s just what makes the tail.” “ But some comets have more than one tail.” “ Well, can’t these shells have more than one hole for the steam to come out of ? Hasn’t this earth got more than one volcano ?” “ Then some comets have curved tails.” “ Perhaps that’s because there’s a wind blowing.” “ But how do you account for the tails pointing away from the sun ?" “ Look here I If these shells have blown out any steam, they can’t be full now, can they ‘I And the less water that’s in them the nearer will the centre of gravity be towards the outside of the shell. Now the centre of gravity, which will be where the water is, will be nearest the sun, and therefore the steam will blow out of the other side.” “ But what about the fact that the planets exercise so little disturbing influence on comets'? How can that be if they are great globes of water ?