Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, No. 704

Just in the same way, if the duties of the sick-room are (as they often must be) unpleasant, a look of aversion or disgust is enough to wound the sufferer beyond the power of caress or words to heal! A woman who turns sick, or is obliged to put a handkerchief to her nose at a foul smell – who shudders at the sight of blood, ought never to be in a sick-room. The same may be said of one who is always feeling her own pulse, or (as we once saw) looking at her own tongue in the glass (by no means a graceful proceeding), to see if symptoms are 'declaring themselves.' All or much of this sort of nervousness may be affectation; but at the same time we must not judge unkindly of those who from natural temperament dread infection, and are therefore likely to fall a prey to it.

And now, taking it for granted that we have a tolerably sensible woman to deal with, and that she is called upon to nurse a case of fever, small-pox, diphtheria, or any such-like unpleasant ailment, what precautions are best calculated to reduce the risk of infection to a minimum? – a risk which we cannot do away with, but are certainly called upon to guard against to the utmost in our power. Attention to diet, so as to ward off great exhaustion at any time, and taking at least half an hour's exercise in the open air, are excellent rules to observe. Never go into the sick-room fasting. And here we must strongly urge upon every sick-nurse the value of coffee as a restorative. In times of cholera epidemics among our soldiers, the first precaution the authorities invariably take is to order a cup of strong coffee to be served out to each man the first thing in the morning. The effects of this plan are known to be admirable.

Take a brisk walk shortly after your breakfast; order a cup of hot strong coffee to be ready when you come in, and take it before going into the patient's room. Nothing helps to throw off the weariness of a night's watching like this turn in the fresh air (even if taken of necessity under an umbrella), and the coffee braces the nerves and invigorates the system.

To speak of the avoidance of alcoholic stimulants is to enter upon delicate ground; though we are of opinion that in serious cases the nurse should seldom touch anything stronger than coffee throughout the whole time. This abstaining gives a power of recovering with great promptitude from the effects of long-continued watching and heavy duties in the sick-room. Depend upon it that the recurring glass of sherry, the oft-repeated 'nip' of brandy-and-water, do a world of harm both in the sick-room and out of it.

That wine and brandy are valuable restoratives in weakness, cannot be denied; and it is certain that there are many constitutions which need a moderate amount of stimulant; but that stimulants are taken to a perfectly needless and most pernicious extent, even by those who by no means come under the term 'drunkard,' and that among these are numbered women as well as men, is a stubborn and unhappy fact. One of the many evils resulting from this over-use of stimulants is this: when severe illness and prostration call for wine or brandy, the system is so used to their action that but little benefit accrues; at all events, little when compared to that prompt answer the constitution gives to even small doses, when that constitution has either made very sparing use, or no use at all, of such whips and spurs to the energies of life.

The proper ventilation of a sick-room is a most important means of lessening the danger of infection; and this more particularly in such diseases as fever, small-pox, or diphtheria – that is, diseases coming distinctly under the head infectious. In those which are contagious, ventilation is of course also important, but not equally so. And this leads us on to speak of the difference between infection and contagion. Infection is subtly diffused through the atmosphere, the patient's breath, the clothes, hangings, walls, &c. Contagion consists in the disease being propagated by the emanations of the sick person. It is therefore obvious that the latter (contagion) is more easily guarded against by a prudent person than the former (infection). The plentiful use of disinfectants seems to be one of the best preventives against contagion; but of course all such details are generally regulated by the medical man in attendance, and no better advice can be given to the amateur sick-nurse than to follow his directions implicitly.

We will, before leaving this subject, quote one passage from Dr Aitken's excellent work, The Science and Practice of Medicine. In volume one, page 222, he says: 'Ill-health of any kind therefore favours the action of epidemic influences.' Thus then, we see how one of our highest medical authorities bears out the truth of what we have said – namely that for the sick-nurse to neglect her own health – to go without sufficient and regular food – in a word, to lower by any means whatever the standard of her own physical condition, is to intensify the risk of infection or contagion for herself, and trouble and anxiety for those belonging to her.

We have no belief in the disinfecting of clothes that have been worn during attendance on cases of an infectious nature. It is far better to wear an old dress, wrapper, shawl, &c., and when the illness is over have them burned. The same thing applies to clothing worn by the patient.

We remember one most lamentable case where (as was supposed) everything was disinfected, washed, and exposed to the air; yet the gift of a night-dress to a poor woman resulted in virulent small-pox, and the sufferer, a young married woman, was cruelly disfigured in spite of the best care and nursing an hospital could give.

It comes then to this: infection cannot be evaded; but risk may be reduced to a minimum by an observance of the precautions we have noted, by the exercise of plain common-sense, and by the reality – not romance – of devotion to the work undertaken by the sick-nurse.

INDIAN MILITARY SPORTS

For the following amusing account of some of the more popular of Eastern regimental sports we are indebted to an officer in India. He proceeds as follows:

The sports of the native Indian cavalry, commonly called Nesi Basi, are much encouraged by the authorities, as to excel in them requires steady nerve and good riding. I believe it is the custom in most regiments to devote one morning a week to these essentially military games. They are most popular with the men, it is easy to see, for besides the hundred or so who generally turn out to compete, the greater part of the regiment is present on foot as spectators.

The proceedings generally commence with tent-pegging pure and simple. A short peg is driven into the ground, while some two hundred yards distant the competitors are drawn up in line, each on his own horse; for the native sowar, like the vassal of our own past times, comes mounted and armed to his regiment. While off duty the native soldier can dress as he pleases, so on occasions like the present, individual taste breaks forth in showy waistcoat or gorgeous coloured turban. Each man carries a bamboo spear in his hand. At a signal given by the wordi major or native adjutant, the first man, his spear held across his body, starts at a canter; his wiry little country-bred knows as well as he does what is in hand, and as the speed quickens to a gallop, the pace is regular and measured, enabling his rider to sit as steady as a rock. When about fifty yards from the object the sowar turns his spear-point downward, bends well over the saddle till his hand is below the girth, and then, when you almost think he has gone past, an imperceptible turn of the wrist and – swish – the spear is brandished round his head, with the peg transfixed on its point. Another is quickly driven into the ground, and the next man comes up; he too hits the peg, but perhaps fails to carry it away to the required distance, for it drops from his spear-point as he is in the act of whirling it round his head. This does not count, and he retires discomfited. The third misses entirely; the fourth strikes but does not remove the peg from the ground; while after them in quick succession come two or three who carry it off triumphantly. With varying fortune the whole squad goes by; and it is interesting to note the style of each horseman as he passes, some sitting rigid till within a few yards of the mark; others bending over and taking aim while still at a distance; some silent, others shouting and gesticulating; while one no sooner has his steed in motion than he gives vent to a certain tremolo sound, kept up like the rattle of a steam-engine, till close upon the peg, which having skilfully transfixed, he at the same time throws his voice up an octave or two, in triumph I suppose, as he gallops round and joins his comrades. Two or three men now bring up their horses with neither saddle nor bridle, and with consummate skill, guiding them by leg-pressure alone, carry off the peg triumphantly, amid well-deserved cries of 'Shabash!' from the spectators.

The next part of the programme is 'lime-cutting.' Three lemons are put up on sticks about twenty yards apart; and as the sowar gallops past, tulwar in hand, he has successively to cut them in two without touching the sticks – a by no means easy feat. Then three handkerchiefs are placed on the ground; and a horseman, riding barebacked a good-looking bay, flies past in a very cloud of dust, and on his way stoops, picks up, and throws over his shoulder each handkerchief as he comes to it.

And now we come to the most difficult feat of all. A piece of wood a little larger than a tent-peg is driven into the ground, and a notch having been made in the top, a rupee is therein placed so as to be half hidden from view. The feat is to ride at this, lance in hand, and to knock out the rupee without touching the wood – a performance requiring rare skill and dexterity; yet it is generally accomplished successfully, once or twice, by the best hands of the regiment.

Perhaps the proceedings may close with something of a comic nature, one man coming past hanging by his heels from the saddle, shouting and gesticulating; others facing their horses' tails, firing pistols at a supposed enemy, with more antics of a like nature, often ending in an ignominious cropper, though the nimble fareem generally succeeds in landing on his feet.

The sports of the infantry are of a totally different nature. The last time I had an opportunity of being present at a tamasha of this kind was a pleasant breezy day on the banks of the Ganges. A space about twelve yards by fifteen was prepared by picking up and softening the ground till it presented the appearance of a minute portion of Rotten Row. One side of this space was reserved for the European officers and their friends; while round the other three stood or squatted the sepoys and any of their acquaintances from the neighbouring villages whom they chose to invite. In the rear were booths, whose owners were doing a brisk trade in native sweetmeats, while some twenty tom-toms kept up a discordant and never-ending din. Every native present, from havildar to sepoy, was clothed only in the langoti or loin-cloth, to give free play to the muscles of the limbs and chest. At each corner of the arena stood a man in authority, like a Master of the Ceremonies, to see that the sports were carried on in a proper manner and that nobody allowed his temper to get the better of him. One of these was a remarkably fine-looking man, who, had he been of somewhat lighter hue and clothed in the garments of civilisation, might have passed as an English aristocrat of the first-water; while another, of powerful build and with mutton-chop whiskers, was the very image of an eminent City man of my acquaintance.

We arrived on the scene a little late, but were immediately shewn to a seat, one of the native officers coming up to hand us a plateful of cut-up almonds and cocoa-nut, with raisins and spices intermixed. Of course we took some, as this was the native welcome. We were hardly seated when two wiry-looking young men stepped into the arena. First, they each bent down and raised to the forehead a little earth in the right hand. This was poojah, or a request for help from their deity in the approaching struggle; though I suspect in most cases it was a meaningless performance; for I saw a little Christian boy who played first-cornet in the band, go through the same manœuvre. The two wrestlers then went to opposite corners, and began some of the queerest antics I ever saw, slapping their chests, thighs, and arms; first hopping on the left, then on the right foot; bending over and jumping back, and recalling in some degree the movements of the ballet; and then, after a few feints, they clutched each other by the arms close to the shoulder, while their two bullet-heads met together and acted as battering-rams. This went on till one man presented a chance by incautiously lifting his foot, when down he went in a trice, his adversary falling on him. This, however, was not a 'fall.' While on the ground, they turned and twisted and writhed like snakes, their lean legs curling round each other in a manner marvellous to behold, their efforts being greeted every now and then by applause, led by the Masters of the Ceremonies aforesaid, given in a sing-song way, and always ending in a long-drawn 'Tee' (Victory). It was almost wearisome to watch them, until at length the bout was brought to an end by one man being fairly thrown on his back, his adversary keeping clear. This was a true 'fall.'

Couple after couple set to in the same way, sometimes a raw youth requiring the friendly admonition of the watchful M. C. to make him keep his temper, though I must say the friendly way in which these exceedingly rough sports were carried on was deserving of the highest praise.

I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw the aristocrat and the mutton-chop whiskers man, throwing aside their dignity, enter the arena and go through the same antics, the latter's pirouettes and pas de Zéphir resembling the gambols of a young elephant; but nevertheless they went through the affair as their predecessors had done.

Between times the little boys from the neighbouring villages would rush in as they saw their opportunity, and seizing a long sword with a handle that covered the arm to the elbow make cuts and points innumerable at a supposed enemy, dancing the while, and never leaving the spot where they commenced. The meaning of this I could not divine, but it pleased the spectators, for they did not withhold their applause, the aristocrat himself on one occasion prolonging the usual 'Tee' in a sonorous voice after every one else had finished.

I was told that this sort of thing went on from early morning till sunset; but though interesting for an hour, it soon begins to pall on the ordinary European; so, after seeing a little single-stick and club practice, excellent of their kind, we took our departure.

I think nothing can speak better for the class of men we have in our native army than the genuine interest they take in these thoroughly manly sports. While engaged in them, the habitual mark of deference worn by the native soldier in the presence of his officer drops from his face, and we can see him as he is, with all his keen appreciation of fun and skill, in which he is not one whit behind his white comrade in the regular army.

A PROMISING FIELD FOR EMIGRANTS

Among the colonial papers just laid before parliament will be found an account, by the governor of Tasmania, of a tour recently made by him, in company with the Minister of Lands and Works, through the north-eastern and eastern districts of that very fine island, worthy to be called the England of the southern hemisphere, which seem to us to meet the requirements of the class of emigrants alluded to; and it is to these localities that the following brief notes refer.

The north-eastern districts of Tasmania are only now attracting general attention, owing to the recent discoveries of tin; and Mr Weld undertook his long journey on horseback because he was desirous of seeing for himself enough to enable him to judge of their capabilities both as mining and agricultural districts. The result, as will be seen, sufficed to convince him that the future of Tasmania will be materially affected by the development of these regions. The north-eastern corner of the island is chiefly hilly, and even mountainous; but it contains large tracts estimated at fully seventy thousand acres of undulating and almost level land of very superior quality, and the soil of a great part of the hills themselves is exceedingly rich. Mr Weld describes the country as being almost entirely clothed with the most luxuriant vegetation. The Eucalypti on the flats and rich hill-sides attain a great size; and the valuable blackwood, the native beech or myrtle, the silver wattle (Acacia dealbata), the sassafras, and the tree-ferns and climbers, add beauty to the forest. The tree-ferns are most remarkable for the great profusion and luxuriance with which they grow, reaching occasionally a height of thirty feet, and being thickly spread over the whole district.

The region, Governor Weld says, may be described from a settler's point of view as a 'poor man's country;' that is, it is best adapted for settlement by men who will labour with their own hands, and who have sons and daughters to work with them. The following anecdote is suggestive, and is worthy of reproduction in its entirety: 'In the heart of the district I remained a day at the comfortable homestead of a most respectable settler, a native of Somersetshire, named Fry, who, with the assistance of his wife, four sons, and five daughters, had in eight years cleared and laid down in grass about two hundred and fifty acres of the three hundred acres he owns, milks fifty cows, and lately obtained a prize for cheese at the Melbourne Exhibition. I could not but be struck at the indomitable energy of this family, which had penetrated alone into a then pathless forest, and attacked its huge trees with such determination, doing everything for themselves, working hard all day, and at night taught lessons, prayers, and even music by the father.' Capitalists, Mr Weld adds, would find such a country too expensive to clear; but the man who can always be cutting down or ringing a tree himself, by degrees sees the light of day break largely into the forest, and though he will not make a fortune, he will make a home and an independence, and all his simple wants will be supplied.

The district alluded to is capable of keeping thousands of such families in health and plenty. Surely then we are right in looking upon this as a promising field for the class of emigrants of which we have spoken. In addition too to its capabilities from an agricultural point of view, the country is not without mineral wealth; and a region roughly estimated at some fifteen hundred square miles, and but partially prospected, has been found to contain tin in such quantities as to warrant its being called 'a rich tin-bearing country.' Fair profits are being made in working this mineral; some of the claims are worked by men on their own account, others in part by working proprietors and in part by men employed by them on wages; and again there are two or three companies of capitalists employing managers and labourers. Labour is scarce and dear, and labourers are being imported from Melbourne; wages range from fifty shillings a week for the best labourers downwards; and on farms men get twenty shillings a week and rations. The great difficulty the north-eastern districts labour under is want of roads; the tin has consequently to be carried – at a cost of ten to thirteen pounds a ton – to Bridport on the north and George's Bay on the eastern coast, on the backs of horses, by bush-tracks over steep hills and across ravines and water-courses. The population is at present comparatively sparse, but there cannot be much doubt that it will rapidly increase as means of communication improve; and steps are already being taken to that end as far as the limited resources of the colony will allow.

On the east coast, Governor Weld saw some fine land, good farms, and neat villages, especially in the Fingal and Avoca districts; but as a rule he considers that this region is more remarkable for climate and scenery than for any continued extent of good land; coal exists in this part of the colony, and there are some fine stone quarries at Prosser's Bay, from which the Melbourne post-office was built.

In conclusion, and to render our brief remarks regarding this colony as a field for emigration more complete, we add the opinion expressed with respect to the stretch of country lying between the Ramsay River and the west coast of the island, by Mr Charles P. Sprent, who was sent to examine it in the spring of last year. He thinks that it is of little use for agricultural purposes, and that it does not contain any large amount of valuable timber; but he adds in his Report to the colonial government, there are sure indications that this part of Tasmania abounds in mineral wealth, although it may be that the search will be arduous and slow. As in the case of the Hellyer River, so it is with the Pieman; wherever the softer schists occur, gold is found in small quantities; and Mr Sprent has not the slightest doubt that in both rivers gold will be found in paying quantities, both alluvial and reef gold. Tin and gold occurring together in some spots near the Pieman in what is called 'made' ground, would indicate that the country higher up the river is worthy of examination, and he would recommend prospectors to try the neighbourhood of Mount Murchison and the Murchison River. As an inducement to prospecting the western country, it may be mentioned that over three hundred ounces of gold have been obtained in one season from the Hellyer River, and that a party of Chinamen have done exceedingly well there since that time. Copper has been discovered on the Arthur River in several places; and copper, lead, tin, gold, and platinum have been found in the vicinity of the Parson's Hood and River Pieman, not to mention the discoveries at Mount Bischoff and Mount Ramsay.

The Report upon which this brief account is mainly based will be found in 'Papers relating to Her Majesty's Colonial Possessions, Part I. of 1876;' which may be obtained from the offices for the sale of Parliamentary Papers. The agents of the Board in London are 'The Emigrants' and Colonists' Aid Corporation (Limited),' 25 Queen Anne's Gate, Westminster, to whom all applications for 'Land Order Warrants,' as well as general information about the colony, should be made.

'EVER BELIEVE ME AFFECTIONATELY YOURS.'

Ever believe you true? Dear friend,Your words so precious are that ICan but repeat them o'er and o'er,And kiss the paper where they lie.How shall I thank you for this pledge,This sweet assurance, which destroysThe doubt that you my love repaid,And changes all my fears to joys?Ever believe you true? I will!I hold you to this written gage!This shall console me, now you're gone;Still next my heart I'll bear the page;By day and night, where'er I go,It shall my prized companion be;And if a thought would 'gainst you rise,This from all blame shall set you free.Ah, need I say, believe me true?You know how tender, yet how strong,This heart's emotions are, how halfOf all its throbs to you belong;How fain 'twould burst its prison-wallsTo nestling beat against your own;How joyous 'twas when you were near,How sadly yearning, now, alone.Ay, till the weary life is done,Though we again may never meet,Let's not forget the by-gone daysThat like a dream passed, swift and sweet;Still let thy knowledge of my loveThy faith in humankind renew,Let that great love still for me plead,And, to the last, believe me true!