# Neuroomia/Chapter 9

CHAPTER IX.
LIFE IN THE COUNTRY.
We first went round the Gulf. Its shores were very rugged and beautiful, but quite uninhabited. On drawing Yondozi's attention to this, he said the land was not of a fertile description; also that the locality was far removed from the populous centres. "Nevertheless," he went on meditatively, "it is rich in minerals, and I suppose they will be extracted some day; that is, if they should be required. However," he continued, "we shall now make for Cliff Harbour, as it is called. It is on our way to Atazatlan; yet I have not been there for a long time, and it will be new to you."
Saying this, he dexterously turned the vessel round, and made for the entrance. Passing through it, we steered along the coast for some distance, then entered a narrow inlet, which he said led to the Harbour; a little while longer, and we were in a smooth sheet of water, surrounded by precipitous cliffs.
​Of course it was wonderful, and I believe that my friend expected to see me very much surprised, for, previous to entering it, he made no reference as to the character of Cliff Harbour. However, I had now become used to witnessing the wonderful and unexpected; so I gazed with apparent indifference at the cliffs, but made no inquiries. Yet it was quite plain they were solid gold, yellow and black in colour. He steered the Berero almost beneath them, and I could now distinguish several rocks of many other metals.
We did not attempt to land, but proceeded right round it—it was metal everywhere—then out again.
"If it were possible to communicate with the other continents, we could give them abundance of that commodity," he said, looking in the direction of the gold.
"Yes," I replied; "but in that case I am afraid it would not be sought after so much by my countrymen, for the very large quantities you have here would diminish its value. It is partly on account of its scarcity that it is so valuable in other parts of the world; however, there is no doubt that a few ship-loads of it would be very acceptable to them at the present time."
​"Now for Blossom Bay," observed Yondozi, as we were drawing near a number of rocky-green islets, above which hovered swarms of sea-fowl.
We passed through the intricate and narrow channels between them. Meanwhile the Berero twisted in and out, going at times with great speed, at others very slowly; in some places abruptly diving forward, in others gliding along as if she were a living fish in the water.
We passed the entrance to Blossom Bay, and drew in closer to the shore, turning in and out till we found ourselves in a winding channel, apparently running inland. This we followed for some distance, till I could distinctly see land immediately ahead.
"Why, we have come to the end of the passage," I observed.
"No," was the answer. "It is only an island."
On reaching it, I saw two very narrow inlets, one on either side. We entered the larger one, and proceeded very slowly, for there was only sufficient room for the Berero to get through. However, we managed it, and were in Blossom Bay, which had more the appearance of a lake than an arm of the sea. It was completely enclosed by foliage, which drooped down from a great height into the water. ​There were, however, no blossoms to be seen, as it was the wrong season for them. Nevertheless, it looked a charming, dreamy little place, and any one could picture to himself what it would look like when the summer arrived.
"Rather pleasant, is it not?" remarked Yondozi. "It is very much admired by the ladies," he continued. "Strange to say, however, it is not frequently visited."
He steered to the centre, then out again into the Nocalattan Sea, and we continued our journey to Atazatlan.
We were now well out from the shore, and it was well known that the remainder of our route to the city was free from rocks. So he arranged the machinery, and took a seat on the deck. I joined him, with the intention of indulging in the luxury of a smoke.
The sky above us formed an impressive spectacle, so silent and clear with its millions of brilliant wanderers; besides, there were many strange lights constantly changing their position and varying their hues, becoming at times large enough to cover a considerable portion of the heavens, then diminishing to a degree that rendered them almost invisible, perhaps wholly disappearing, while fresh ​ones continued to come into existence in parts where none were previously seen. The atmosphere was sharp and bracing, possessing a degree of transparency unknown in the lower latitudes, thereby rendering the tranquil worlds above us objects of ineffable beauty and loveliness.
"Your astronomers," I observed, "have natural advantages for contemplating the mysteries of the universe that ours cannot possibly enjoy."
"Yes, quite true," he replied; "but, on the other hand, your sages have a wider field for observation and experiment."
Here I took the opportunity to inform him that I was not a scientist, and that my knowledge of astronomy was confined to the art of being able to determine the latitude and longitude of any given place, and to this, perhaps, might be added a smattering of that all-absorbing science that I acquired through reading books at sea.
"I can understand that," he replied; "but you take an interest in this subject, and that fact alone would cause you to acquire a certain knowledge of it unconsciously and without effort. Further," he continued, "I have little doubt you have many learned men among your people who have never made a special study of this important branch of ​science, but who, nevertheless, through their love for it, possess a general knowledge equal to many of your professional astronomers; at least, such is the case with us, and many important discoveries have been made by these patient observers."
I admitted that it was so with ourselves, and said that ever since we left Moolooba I had been thinking much of the planet Mars and its happy inhabitants, and would be extremely pleased to learn whatever he knew or conjectured about the origin of animal life, taking, for instance, that of the people of our own earth.
"I cannot speak with any degree of certainty on the matter," he said, "but our astronomers have been of the opinion for a very long period that animal life was conveyed to our world, in the first instance, through the medium of another member of the universe, which, at some remote time, came into contact with our own planet."
"Is it probable there was a collision?" asked.
"Yes," he answered; "and that occurrence may account for such a vast portion of the earth's surface being covered at the present day by the waters of the ocean."
"Is it likely they came from Mars?" I inquired.
"It is not known from what world they came," ​was the reply. "Probably not Mars, however, for it is believed that wanderer has never been sufficiently close to this earth to admit of it. No," he continued, "our astronomers cling to the belief that animal life was primarily transferred to our orb from one of those planets that, like Marini, move in a highly eccentric orbit, and only approach the earth at intervals of time almost too long for the human mind to conceive."
"Our ancestors, then," I observed, "in all likelihood came from some planet whose less fortunate inhabitants, unlike those of Mars, are mortal."
"It by no means follows," was the answer,—"at least, such is our opinion,—that because we are mortal, those from whom we have originally descended should be so; that is, previous to them becoming denizens of this earth."
"But supposing it were possible for some of the inhabitants of Mars to visit this earth, how would they fare?" I inquired.
"We believe that they would no longer be immortal," was the reply. "They would be affected by time in a similar manner to ourselves. Of course, it is not implied that they would not live longer than our own people; they might live for a thousand, or, for that matter, ten thousand years, ​but there would be an end. Mortality is peculiar to this earth; everything is undergoing a change."
Here Yondozi left his seat to attend to the vessel, for we could see Atazatlan in the distance.
On landing, we repaired to Onneyubla's Palace, and had an interview with the President. It was not my intention to remain long in the city on this occasion, for I was anxious to return to my country home, in order, if possible, to complete my historical work before the end of the twilight.
The Omeropelliba, or Neuroomian Parliament, was, however, in session, and, on the invitation of Onneyubla, I decided to pay it a visit and hear the orations
Now, from what I had already seen of the men and systems of Neuroomia, I expected to hear eloquent speeches of a thrilling character. In this, however, I was sadly disappointed, for, during the time I was present, no speeches were made, the members discussing what appeared to me to be unimportant measures in a conversational style.
I inquired of the President if this was the usual manner of proceeding in passing their laws. He replied in the affirmative, whereupon I gave him a concise account of the Parliaments of other ​lands, and referred to the eloquent addresses delivered by gifted speakers on momentous occasions. He made a few inquiries, principally concerning the subjects of their debates, then answered,—
"We have no abuses of the nature to which you refer to call forth eloquent appeals from our legislators for reform. Those impressive speeches of your orators appear to have been directed against some monstrous miscarriage of justice, cruel tyranny, the oppression of the weak, or the corruption of systems and individuals. Our representatives, however, have no occasion to appeal to sympathy or passion, for our systems are the result of experience, and work well, while all our social changes are very gradual, and even if there should be a defect, through oversight in a new law, our people understand this, and are slow to take advantage of it."
I met Alvarez, and went for a walk with her to our favourite retreat. Every one, however, appeared to be more or less occupied, so I prepared to take my departure. Before leaving, Onneyubla, Yondozi, Alvarez and other ladies promised to visit Raveria before the beginning of summer.
On reaching my rural abode, I again took up my literary work with renewed vigour. Chapter after chapter was ended, and long before I had ​anticipated, the whole was concluded, and ready for publication. I found the latter part of the occupation a most enjoyable one in a quiet way. The loneliness I experienced after commencing it vanished, and I found agreeable company in my work. Besides, I got to love the rural obscurity of the surroundings, and possessed no desire to commence another long holiday.
I now devoted the whole of my time to the improvement of my homestead and lands. There was abundance of outside work to keep me well employed. Everything appeared to prosper, and my life in the country was surrounded by circumstances in the highest degree encouraging. The grain crops were beginning to ripen, and the fruit trees were already laden with blossom. Clouds now made their appearance in the sky, and were beautifully illuminated by the sun, which was still below the horizon, yet it was evident that he would soon make his appearance, for it was becoming almost as bright as day.
I had two zealous assistants in Bashipolo and Illilippli, who took considerable interest in the improvement of the estate.
Everything was in readiness when the visitors arrived. The ladies took possession, in a ​proprietary manner, of one part of my establishment, while my male friends and myself occupied the other. There was an equal number of each sex, and be it said to the advantage of the fair ones, that none of them appeared to have sinister designs on my liberty.
During their stay, however, I spent most of my time in the company of the charming Alvarez, while Onneyubla, who seemed to be a confirmed, though somewhat ancient, flirt, was almost constantly by the side of the fascinating Delemia. In the meantime, my old friend Yondozi was consoled (that is, if he required any consolation, of which, by the way, I am doubtful) by the sweet Vandalia, and with her visited all the romantic places in the neighbourhood.
Previous to leaving, some one proposed a short visit to the mountains in the vicinity. A certain locality was chosen, and on arrival, the animals were liberated, and the company scattered. Alvarez and myself ascended one of the higher peaks, and rested on the summit.
"We shall not have to wait long," she said, "for see how bright the sky is becoming."
"What lovely colours! I never saw a sunrise like this before," I answered. "It surpasses the ​most beautiful I have ever witnessed on the ocean."
The singing and screeching of the birds were almost deafening, and the smaller animals quitted their winter abode, running and frisking about in the most joyous manner. Brighter and brighter it became, and higher and higher in the sky ascended the wedge-shaped illuminations.
"The first ray!" she exclaimed, pointing to the top of a high tree.
We now took a fresh seat, and watched him clear the horizon. It was a glorious and welcome sight after such a long absence.