Part 15

The Commissioners for the New Zealand Exhibition wanting a manager, it was thought that the experience I have acquired in such matters might prove of service. Combining business with pleasure, I have moved my camp once more.

What the result of the New Zealand Exhibition will be is as yet a blank page in the history of the near future, but based, as this great venture has been, on the soundest of principles—principles that the Governments of New South Wales and Victoria declined to follow—I may predict that the New Zealand Jubilee Exhibition will be a most thorough success, in every way, practically and financially.

Coming back to New Zealand, fifty years after I first landed on its shores, has been a source of great gratification to me.

I cannot bring this narrative to a close without mentioning a most extraordinary coincidence, which occurred a few months ago, while on a visit to Christchurch.

A landslip had occurred at Akaroa a few days previous to my arrival in Christchurch. This slip unearthed a number of cannon balls, imbedded deep into the side of a hill, above what is called the “Frenchman’s Garden.” These 32-pounders were all in a cluster, bar one, which by some unaccountable reason was found some forty yards off from the spot, where a target must have been placed, the hypothesis being that some “duffer” had fired this truant shot.

When I saw the rusty old “ball” I at once recognised the shape (now obsolete) of the old 32lb. shot used in the French navy. Coupling the locality with the old familiar projectile, I at once remembered that in September, 1840, when on board the Aube at Akaroa, Captain Lavaud had ordered shot practice, and when the target had been placed on the hillside on shore, he invited me to fire the first shot, which went some fifty yards off the mark, much to the merriment of the crew, who very justly pronounced me a “duffer”—the very epithet which I heard applied to the unknown gunner, after the lapse of fifty years.

This old “friend,” found imbedded in the New Zealand soil at Akaroa, now stands before me on top of my _écritoire_, and from it I draw many comparisons.

Here we meet once more after fifty years! I have “rolled” all over the world. It has remained buried in the earth in New Zealand. Yet we are both very much alike—old-looking, rusty; still hard, tough, and fit for service if need be. The rust is only superficial; under it the old metal has all its natural properties.

This “find” at Akaroa has been a most appropriate one, inasmuch as it has enabled me to conclude as I began, by the history of a “Stray Shot,” which really should have been the title of this book.

I will now conclude by giving my readers the history of the crest which I have placed above my name upon the front page. We (I mean the Jouberts) do not claim to descend from the “Crusaders,” and although we must have had some lineal connections with the first inhabitants of the Garden of Eden, the line cannot be traced quite so far.

I suppose that _we_ must have been lost in the “crowd” for many centuries, and it is very evident to me that until the sixteenth century the name has no record. In the year 1550, however, Dr. Laurence Joubert was appointed Court Physician to Henry III., and at the death of Rondelet in 1562 he was made Regius Professor of Physic at Montpellier, where he died in 1582.

Having rendered eminent services to King Henry III., the monarch, by letters patent, authorised his favourite physician to assume the Gallic cock _rampant_, with Esculapius’ mythological serpent at its feet—the motto, “_semper vigilans_” being, I think, a most suitable one for a “medico.”

The old bird has never been of much service to our ancestor’s descendants. Still, we have always adhered to it, as an emblem of old Gaul. Even the Imperial eagle has not deterred us from our allegiance to the Gallic cock, and as years have rolled on, “_semper vigilans_” has been our motto. I trust that my sons will never forget its meaning, which in the vulgar tongue may be translated into “Be always wide awake,” or, better still, “Keep your weather eye open”—a maxim I have always endeavoured to follow, and I think verily that it is owing to this that I have got out of the various “shavings and scrapes” I have narrated in the foregoing pages.

EPILOGUE.

_My brother “Savages” have induced me to look up my diaries and publish this book._

_If it proves an infliction, the blame is theirs._

_It has afforded me an opportunity to record gratefully the many kindnesses I have received during my travels—more especially the genial hospitality of the “Savage Club.”_

_One of the infirmities of age is garrulity. I have endeavoured to avoid it._

_One word more to my reader—ADIEU!_

_J.J._

PRINTED BY J. WILKIE AND CO., DUNEDIN.

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES:

Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. Others are noted below.

Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.

Italicized words are surrounded by underline characters, _like this_.

CORRECTIONS:

Page 4: Augoulême changed to Angoulême (… at Angoulême, one of the prettiest towns….)

Page 32: Janiero → Janeiro (… Rio Janeiro, and the Bay of Islands….)

Page 51: 1851: altered by hand to 1852.

Page 69: Paramatta → Parramatta (… between the Parramatta and the Lane Cove rivers….)

Page 70: Archbold altered by hand with the correct name: Cobbold.

Page 80: Illegible characters following … show advertised….

Page 176: diviue → divine (… stripping them of their divine assumptions….)

Page 191: chrystobil → chrysoberyl (… ruby, sapphire, chrysoberyl, cat’s-eye….)

Page 193: Hydrabad → Hyderabad (… the Rane of Hyderabad.)

Page 201: Moghul → Moghal (... primitive state at Moghal-Serai.)

Page 225: Burke → Bourke (… little Bourke Street….)

VARIANTS UNCHANGED:

Paraherra and Parraherra, gharries and gharrys, Lilliputian and Liliputian.