ARRIVAL AT HOBART 203 



Our guest evidently had no desire to make the 

 acquaintance of our cuisine; at any rate, he very 

 energetically declined our invitation to breakfast. Pre- 

 sumably he was afraid of being treated to dog's flesh 

 or similar original dishes. On the other hand, he 

 showed great appreciation of our Norwegian tobacco. 

 He had his handbag pretty nearly full when he left us. 



Hobart Town lies on the bank of the Derwent River, 

 which runs into Storm Bay. The surroundings are 

 beautiful, and the soil evidently extremely fertile; but 

 woods and fields were almost burnt up on our arrival ; a 

 prolonged drought had prevailed, and made an end of all 

 green things. To our eyes it was, however, an unmixed 

 delight to look upon meadows and woods, even if their 

 colours were not absolutely fresh. We were not very 

 difficult to please on that score. 



The harbour of Hobart is an almost ideal one, large 

 and remarkably well protected. As we approached the 

 town, the usual procession of harbour-master, doctor, 

 and Custom-house officers came aboard. The doctor 

 soon saw that there was no work for his department, and 

 the Custom-house officers were easily convinced that we 

 had no contraband goods. The anchor was dropped, 

 and we were free to land. I took my cablegrams, and 

 accompanied the harbour-master ashore. 



