[Note: this transcription was produced by an automatic OCR engine]

20 WITH NATIVES IN THE WESTERN PACIFIC

lounge dreaming on antediluvian cabs, and a few old
convicts sprawl on benches.

Along the hillside are the houses of the high
officials and the better class of people. There is a
club, where fat officials gather to play cards and
drink absinthe and champagne; they go to the
barber’s, roll cigarettes, drink some more absinthe
and go to bed early, after having visited a music—hall,
in which monstrous dancing-girls from Sydney
display their charms and moving-picture shows
present blood-curdling dramas. Then there is the
Governor’s residence, the town hall, etc., and the
only event in this quiet city of officials is the arrival
of the mail-steamer, when all the “beau-monde”
gathers on the pier to welcome the few passengers,
whether known or unknown.

In Noume'a itself there is no industry, and the
great export of minerals does not touch the town.
Once, Noumea was meant to form a base of naval
operations, and strongly fortified. But after a few
years this idea was abandoned, after having cost large
sums, and now the fortifications are left to decay and
the heavy, modern guns to rust.

In spite of a prohibition, one may climb up to the
forts, and be rewarded by a beautiful view of the
island, which does not impress one as tropical. The
rounded hills are covered with shrubs, and only in
the valleys are there a few trees; we are surprised
by the strong colouring of the distant mountains,
shining purple through the Violet atmosphere.

Seaward, we see the white line of the breakers,