Last Leaves From Dunk Island E-Book

E.j.banfield

• Herausgeber: E. J. Banfield
• Kategorie: Wissenschaft und neue Technologien
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016

Beschreibung

One of Australia’s most significant (and successful) early nature writers was Edmund James Banfield (1852-1923). Born in England, Banfield followed in his father’s footsteps and became a journalist, initially in Melbourne and Sydney but then in Townsville, where he became sub-editor of the Townsville Daily Bulletin. Banfield’s nature writing is based on real lived-in experience of place. As well as Thoreau, critics have compared Banfiedl to John Burroughs and William Henry Hudson, partly for his capacity for close observation and description.

Leseprobe

Last Leaves from Dunk Island

by

E. J. Banfield

To the best of our knowledge, the text of this

work is in the “Public Domain”.

HOWEVER, copyright law varies in other countries, and the work may still be under

copyright in the country from which you are accessing this website. It is your

responsibility to check the applicable copyright laws in your country before

downloading this work.

Part I

The Tempest

Shore-Lines

Sounds and Sweet Airs

The Wonderful Season

Thunder Season

A Homely Garden

In Reserve

The Serene Sea

Tropic Glory

Part II

The Pigling and the Piccaninny

Peter: A Fisher of Men

Billy Too-Gal’s Ghost

The Passing of Sam

Sambo’s Strategy

A Bush Oculist

Frank Edward’s Fall

Billy, the Guide

Cause and Effect

Resourcefulness

Part III

A Spinner of Sand

Metallic Starlings

The Sunbird

The Swamp Pheasant

Swifts and Swiftlets

Character in Birds

A Sanctuary Problem

A Jungle Flower

The Reef Mantis

Reef Jewellery

An Isle and a Reef

Dogs that have Been

Facts and Musings

Part I

The Tempest

I

Early in the year 1918 two great storms visited the coast of North Queensland. One centred off the port of Mackay, four hundred miles to the south of Dunk Island, on 21st January, and the other about twenty-five miles to the north, on 10th March.

Forty-eight hours prior to the Mackay storm premonitory effects were observed here, succeeding a memorable tidal jumble. During a breathless calm a mysterious northerly swell set in. To ears accustomed to the silence and the musical whisperings of a sheltered bay, the roar and burst of the breakers of a wind-forgotten sea suggested a confused mental picture — a blending of black and grey without form.

Heaving, as with deep-drawn breaths, out from the beach the sea seemed to be both restless and angry, as glistening rollers heaved themselves on to the strand, to be shattered into spray. They rifled the Barrier Reef, threw on the sand lumps of coral to which brown seaweed hung, like the scalps of mermaids, and swept them to and fro with savage persistency. They brought driftwood from afar, and claimed all sorts of sun-dried relics from previous depositary moods.

After a time the sea became silent again, with a sparkling, wavering ripple, while the noise of its assault on the mainland beach had the tone of distant, unceasing thunder.