The Adventures of Louis de Rougemont

Transcribed from the 1899 George Newnes edition by David Price, email

ccx074@.org

THE ADVENTURES OF

LOUIS DE ROUGEMONT

As Told by Himself

With Forty-six Illustrations

London

George Newnes, Limited

Southampton Street, Strand

1899

[_All rights reserved_]

Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO.

At the Ballantyne Press

DEDICATION

_To my Devoted Wife_,

YAMBA,

_The Noblest Work of the Creator_,

A GOOD WOMAN,

_And to her People_, _my True and Streadfast Friends_,

_who never wavered in their confidence or_

_attachment_, _and to whom I owe the_

_Preservation of my Life_,

THIS WORK

_Is gratefully Dedicated_

CHAPTER I

Early life--Leaving home--I meet Jensen--I go pearling--Daily

routine--Submarine beauties--A fortune in pearls--Seized by an

octopus--Shark-killing extraordinary--Trading with the natives--Impending

trouble--Preparing for the attack--Baffling the savages.

I was born in or near Paris, in the year 1844. My father was a fairly

prosperous man of business--a general merchant, to be precise, who dealt

largely in shoes; but when I was about ten years old, my mother, in

consequence of certain domestic differences, took me to live with her at

Montreux, and other places in Switzerland, where I was educated. I

visited many of the towns near Montreux, including Lausanne, Geneva,

Neufchatel, &c. The whole of the time I was at school I mixed

extensively with English boys on account of their language and sports,

both of which attracted me.

Boys soon begin to display their bent, and mine, curiously enough, was in

the direction of geology. I was constantly bringing home pieces of stone

and minerals picked up in the streets and on the mountains, and asking

questions about their origin and history. My dear mother encouraged me

in this, and later on I frequently went to Freiburg, in the Black Forest,

to get a practical insight into smelting. When I was about nineteen,

however, a message arrived from my father, directing me to return to

France and report myself as a conscript; but against this my mother

resolutely set her face. I fancy my father wanted me to take up the army

as a career, but in deference to my mother's wishes I remained with her

in Switzerland for some time longer. She and I had many talks about my

future, and she at length advised me to take a trip to the East, and see

what the experience of travel would do for me. Neither of us had any

definite project in view, but at length my mother gave me about 7000

francs and I set out for Cairo, intending eventually to visit and make

myself acquainted with the French possessions in the Far East. My idea

was to visit such places as Tonkin, Cochin-China, Madagascar, Mauritius,

Seychelles, &c. My mother was of the opinion that if I saw a bit of the

world in this way I would be more inclined to settle down at home with

her at the end of my wanderings. The primary cause of my going away was

a little love episode. Whilst at Montreux I fell in love with a charming

young lady at a boarding-school near my home. She was the daughter of

some high personage in the court of Russia--but exactly what position he

held I cannot say. My mother was quite charmed with the young lady and

viewed our attachment with delight. But when my father heard of the

matter he raised a decided objection to it, and ordered me to return to

France and join the army. He had, as I have previously intimated, made

his own plans for my future, even to the point of deciding upon a future

wife for me, as is customary in France; but I resolutely declined to

conform to his wishes in this respect, and my mother quite sided with me.

I never quite knew how he got to hear of my love affair, but I conclude

that my mother must have mentioned it to him. I only stayed a few days

in the wonderful metropolis of Egypt; its noises, its cosmopolitanism,

its crowds--these, and many other considerations, drove me from the city,

and I set out for Singapore.

I had not been many days in that place when, chancing to make inquiries

at a store kept by a Mr. Shakespeare, I was casually introduced to a

Dutch pearl-fisher named Peter Jensen. Although I describe him as a

Dutch pearler I am somewhat uncertain as to his exact nationality. I am

under the impression that he told me he came from Copenhagen, but in

those days the phrase "Dutchman" had a very wide application. If a man

hailed from Holland, Sweden, Norway, or any neighbouring country, he was

always referred to as a Dutchman. This was in 1863. We grew quite

friendly, Jensen and I, and he told me he had a small forty-ton schooner

at Batavia, in which sturdy little craft he used to go on his pearling

expeditions.

"I am now," he said, "about to organise a trip to some untouched pearling

grounds off the south of New Guinea, but have not sufficient capital to

defray the preliminary expenses."

This hint I took, and I offered to join him. He once agreed, and we

commenced our preparations without delay--in Batavia. Now when a pearler

engaged a crew of native divers there in those days, he had to deposit

beforehand with the Dutch Government a certain sum for each man entering

his service, this money being a guarantee that the man would get his

wages. Well, I placed all the money that I had with me at Captain

Jensen's disposal, provided he gave me a share in the venture we were

about to undertake. "We will not," he said to me in Singapore, "draw up

an agreement here, but will do so at Batavia," and forthwith we set sail

for that place. Before leaving Singapore, however, Jensen bought some

nautical instruments he could not get at Batavia--including compasses,

quadrant, chronometer, &c. Strange to say, he did not tell me that his

ship was named the _Veielland_ until we had arrived at Batavia. Here the

contract was duly drawn up, and the vessel fitted out for the voyage. I

fancy this was the first time Jensen had embarked on a pearling

expedition on a craft of the size of the _Veielland_, his previous trips

having been undertaken on much smaller vessels, say of about ten tons.

Although the fitting out of the ship was left entirely in his hands, I

insisted upon having a supply of certain stores for myself put

aboard--things he would never have thought about. These included such

luxuries as tinned and compressed vegetables, condensed milk, &c. Jensen

did not even think of ship's biscuits until I called his attention to the

oversight. He demurred at first about buying them, but I told him I

would not go until we had the biscuits aboard. Jensen was a very bluff,

enigmatic sort of fellow, as I afterwards found out. He was of a sullen,

morose nature, and I could never get much out of him about his past. He

would not speak about himself under any circumstances, and at no time of

our acquaintance was he any sort of a sociable companion. He was very

hard upon the sailors under him, and was much addicted to the use of

strong language. I admit that I was an absolute "muff" in those days,

and Jensen was quick to grasp the fact. He was very fond of schnapps,

whilst I hated the smell of the stuff. Moreover, he was a great smoker,

and here again our tastes differed.

Our preparations in Batavia complete, we next went over to the islands of

the Dutch Archipelago, and engaged forty experienced Malay divers to

accompany us. Jensen was very particular in selecting the men, each

being required to demonstrate his capabilities before us. The way he

tested them prior to actually engaging them was to make each dive after a

bright tin object thrown into so many fathoms of water. Altogether he

spent several weeks choosing his crew. He had engaged a couple of Malays

at Batavia to help in the work of navigating the ship, but besides being

sailors these men were also good divers. The majority of the other

Malays were only useful as divers, and took no part in the working of the

ship. A native _serang_, or "boss," was appointed as chief, or foreman,

over the Malays, and he was permitted to take with him his wife and her

maid. This "serang" had to be a first-class diver himself, and had also

to be acquainted with the manoeuvring of a small boat. He was also

required to have a smattering of navigation generally. Above all, he had

to be able to assert authority over the other divers; and in all these

respects our serang was thoroughly proficient.

I may here explain that shortly after leaving Batavia the captain had the

ship repainted a greyish-white colour all over. I never troubled to look

for her name, but one day I saw Jensen painting the word _Veielland_ on

her. There was a totally different name on the lifeboat, but I cannot

remember it. What Jensen's motive was in sailing the ship under another

name I never understood; certainly it was a very suspicious circumstance.

Perhaps the ship as originally named had a bad name, and if such were the

case--mind you, I don't say that it had--the Malays could never have been

induced to go aboard. Once out at sea, however, they would be absolutely

at the mercy of the captain, and he could treat them just as he pleased.

The first thing they did before coming aboard was to look at the name for

themselves. No doubt they knew the reputation of every pearler. Jensen

did on one occasion exercise his authority to the extent of transferring

some of his own Malay divers to another ship when we were out at sea.

At last everything was ready, and when we sailed for the pearling

grounds, our crew numbered forty-four all told, not including a fine dog

that belonged to the captain. This dog, which played so important--nay,

so vitally important--a part in my strange afterlife, was given to Jensen

at Batavia by a Captain Cadell, a well-known Australian seaman, who had

gained some notoriety by navigating the Murray River for the first time.

Cadell, who was a great friend of Jensen, was himself a pearler. But he

met with a sad end. He was in a pearling expedition in the neighbourhood

of Thursday Island, and among his crew were some of the very Australian

Blacks who in after years proved so friendly to me. Cadell treated these

men very badly, keeping them at work long after the time for their return

home had expired, and one day they mutinied and murdered him whilst he

was asleep. The black fellow who called himself "Captain Jack Davies,"

of whom I shall have more to say hereafter, was amongst the crew at the

time. I obtained this information in Sydney from Captain Tucker, a well-

known Torres Straits pearler. Bruno, Jensen's dog, was something of a

greyhound in build, only that his hind-quarters were heavier.

As you may suppose, my knowledge of seamanship was very limited indeed,

but Jensen interested himself in me, so that I soon began to pick up a

good deal of useful knowledge. He taught me how to take the sun, I using

his old instruments; but I could never grasp the taking of the lunars. On

our voyage out I had no duties to perform on board, but I found much to

interest myself in the beautiful tropical islands among which we threaded

our way; and I took quite a childish delight in everything I saw. It was

really a grand time for me. I constantly wrote home to my mother, the

last letter I forwarded to her being from Koopang. Occasionally we

landed on one of the islands to buy fresh provisions, in the shape of

fowls, pigs, fruit, &c. We then set sail for the coast of New Guinea.

The voyage thence was accomplished without the slightest hitch, the

divers spending most of their time in singing and playing like little

children,--all in the best of good spirits. Their favourite form of

amusement was to sit round a large fire, either telling stories of the

girls they had left behind, or singing love melodies. When the weather

was at all cold, they would make a fire in a rather shallow tub, the

sides of which were lined with a layer of sand. They were a wonderfully

light-hearted lot of fellows, and I greatly enjoyed listening to their

chants and yarns. I was more often with them than in Jensen's company,

and it did not take me long to pick up bits of their language.

The _Veielland_ only drew between seven feet and eight feet of water, so

that we were able to venture very close in-shore whenever it was

necessary. At length, about a month after starting, we reached a likely

spot where the captain thought that the precious shells might be found;

here we anchored, and the divers quickly got to work. I ought to have

mentioned that we carried a large whale-boat, and about half-a-dozen

frail little "shell" boats for the use of the divers.

The comings and goings of the various pearling expeditions were of course

regulated by the weather and the state of the tide. The captain himself

went out first of all in the whale-boat, and from it prospected for

shells at the bottom of the crystal sea. The water was marvellously

transparent, and leaning over the side of the boat, Jensen peered eagerly

into his sea-telescope, which is simply a metal cylinder with a lens of

ordinary glass at the bottom. Some of the sea-telescopes would even be

without this lens, being simply a metal cylinder open at both ends.

Although they did not bring the objects looked at nearer the vision, yet

they enabled the prospector to see below the ruffled surface of the

water.

The big whale-boat was followed at a respectful distance by the flotilla

of smaller boats, each containing from four to six Malays. When Jensen

discerned a likely spot through his peculiar telescope, he gave the

signal for a halt, and before you could realise what was going to happen,

the native divers had tumbled out of their boats, and were _swimming_ in

a weird way down to the bottom of the translucent sea. As a rule, one

man was left in each little boat to follow the movements of the divers as

they returned to the surface. Not only did these divers wear no

mechanical "dress," but they used no stimulants or palliatives of any

kind to aid them in their work. All they carried was a small

sheath-knife hung from the waist by a piece of string. The water for the

most part was only two or three fathoms deep, but sometimes it would be

as much as eight fathoms,--which was the greatest depth to which the men

cared to go. When he reached the bottom, the diver would grope about for

shells, and generally return to the surface with a couple, held in his

left hand and hugged against his breast; the right hand was kept free and

directed his movements in swimming. Each diver seldom remained under

water more than one minute, and on coming to the surface he would take a

"spell" of perhaps a quarter of an hour before going down again.

As fast as each man brought his shells into the boat, they were put into

a separate little pile, which was respected absolutely, and always

recognised as belonging to its owner. The bed of the sea at these

pearling grounds is usually coral, with innumerable holes of different

depths and sizes dotted all over it. It was in these recesses that the

best shells were mostly found.

The marine vegetation down in these seas was always of extreme beauty;

there were stately "trees" that waved backwards and forwards, as though

under the influence of a gentle breeze; there were high, luxuriant

grasses, and innumerable plants of endless variety and colour. The coral

rocks, too, were of gorgeous hues--yellow, blue, red, and white; but a

peculiar thing was that the moment you brought a piece of this rock up to

the surface, the lovely colour it possessed whilst in the water gradually

faded away. Some of the coral I saw had curious little shoots hanging

from its numerous projections bearing a striking resemblance to

bluebells.

The illusion of a submarine forest was further heightened by the droves

of gaily-coloured fish that flitted in and out among the branches.

Perhaps the most beautiful of all were the little dolphins. The diving

expeditions went away from the ship with the ebb tide, and returned with

the flow. Sometimes their search would take them long distances away,

and on one occasion they were working fully ten miles from the

_Veielland_. When the water suddenly became rough, rendering the divers

unable to paddle their own little skiffs back to the ship, they made

their way to the whale-boat, clambered aboard, and returned in her,

trailing their own craft at the stern. The boats, however, were not

always brought back to the ship at night; as a rule they were buoyed near

the pearling beds, whilst the divers returned to their quarters aboard. I

might here explain that the sleeping accommodation for the Malays was

both ample and comfortable. A large room in which the casks of fresh

water were stored was set apart for their use. These casks were turned

on end and a deck of planks placed over them, on which the Malays laid

their sleeping mats and little wooden pillows. They ranged themselves

twenty a side. But you may be asking, what was _I_ doing during these

pearling expeditions? Well, I was intrusted with the important duty of

receiving the shells from the men, and crediting each with the number he

delivered. Thus I was nearly always left alone on the ship--save for the

dog; because even the two Malay women frequently went out diving, and

they were credited for work done precisely as the men were.

If I had no shells to open whilst the divers were absent, I filled in my

time by sewing sails, which Jensen himself would cut to the required

shape--and reading, &c. My library consisted of only five books--a copy

of the Bible, and a four-volume medical work in English by Bell, which I

had purchased at Singapore. I made quite a study of the contents of this

work, and acquired much valuable information, which I was able to put to

good use in after years, more particularly during my sojourn amongst the

Blacks. Bruno generally sat by my side on deck when I was alone,--in

fact he was nearly always with me. He took to me more than to Jensen

from the first. Jensen rarely tried to bully me, though of course I was

now very much in his power, as he emphatically illustrated one day. A

Malay diver had very much annoyed him, and in his fury he picked up a

heavy broom with a stick fully four feet long, and felled the poor fellow

senseless to the deck with it. I was shocked at such awful brutality,

and ventured to protest against it. "Captain," I said, "don't do

anything like that again whilst I am aboard." Turning round in a great

passion he ordered me to keep my own counsel, otherwise he would have me

put in irons. But for all that Jensen never again let his temper get the

better of him to such an extent in my presence. He was always very gruff

in his manner, and looked upon me as the "darndest fool he had ever met."

These divers, by the way, never seemed to trouble about the value of the

treasure they were constantly bringing to the surface. They thought

themselves well paid if they were given plenty of rice and fish, turtles'

eggs and fowls, in addition to such luxuries as spices, coffee, and

"Brummagem" jewellery, of a kind which is too well known to need

description. At the same time it must be admitted that in addition to

their wages, which were paid them when they were discharged from the

ship, the Malays had practically no opportunity of being dishonest, even

though they might have been inclined that way. They never came into

actual contact with the pearls; they were rewarded according to the

number of shells brought to the surface, and not the value of the pearls

they might contain. All the shells were opened by me. A healthy spirit

of rivalry was maintained among the divers, and the man who had the best

record of shells each week was rewarded with an extra allowance of rum or

tobacco; a choice of some article of jewellery, or anything else he

fancied from among the stock we had on board. A bottle of chutney or

pickles was considered a specially valuable delicacy. No money was ever

given to the divers as wages whilst at sea, remuneration in kind being

always given instead. Each expedition would be absent perhaps six hours,

and on its return each diver generally had between twenty and forty

shells to hand over to me. These I arranged in long rows on the deck,

and allowed them to remain there all night. Next day I cleaned them by

scraping off the coral from the shells, and then opened them with an

ordinary dinner-knife. Of course, every oyster did not produce a pearl;

in fact, I have opened as many as a hundred consecutive shells without

finding a single pearl. The gems are hidden away in the fleshy part of

the oyster, and have to be removed by pressure of the thumb. The empty

shells are then thrown in a heap on one side, and afterwards carefully

stowed away in the hold, as they constitute a valuable cargo in

themselves, being worth--at that time, at any rate (1864)--from 200 to

250 pounds, and even 350 pounds a ton. All the pearls I found I placed

in a walnut jewel-case, measuring about fourteen inches by eight inches

by six inches. The value of the treasure increased day by day, until it

amounted to many thousands of pounds; but of this more hereafter. I did

not know much of the value of pearls then--how could I, having had no

previous experience?

Captain Jensen, however, assured me at the end of the season that we had

something like 50,000 pounds worth of pearls aboard, to say nothing about

the value of the shells, of which we had about thirty tons. It must be

clearly understood that this is Captain Jensen's estimate--I am utterly

unable to give one. The oysters themselves we found very poor eating,

and no one on board cared about them. Some of the shells contained one

pearl, others two, three, and even four. One magnificent specimen I came

across produced no fewer than a dozen fine pearls, but that of course was

very exceptional. The largest gem I ever found was shaped just like a

big cube, more than an inch square. It was, however, comparatively

worthless. Actually the finest specimen that passed through my hands was

about the size of a pigeon's egg, and of exquisite colour and shape. Some

of the pearls were of a beautiful rose colour, others yellow; but most

were pure white.

The greatest enemy the divers had to fear in those waters was the dreaded

octopus, whose presence occasioned far greater panic than the appearance

of a mere shark.

These loathsome monsters--call them squids, or devil-fish, or what you

will--would sometimes come and throw their horrible tentacles over the

side of the frail craft from which the divers were working, and actually

fasten on to the men themselves, dragging them out into the water. At

other times octopuses have been known to attack the divers down below,

and hold them relentlessly under water until life was extinct. One of

our own men had a terribly narrow escape from one of these fearful

creatures. I must explain, however, that occasionally when the divers

returned from pearl-fishing, they used to rope all their little skiffs

together and let them lie astern of the schooner. Well, one night the

wind rose and rain fell heavily, with the result that next morning all

the little boats were found more or less water-logged. Some of the

Malays were told off to go and bale them out. Whilst they were at work

one of the men saw a mysterious-looking black object in the sea, which so

attracted his curiosity that he dived overboard to find out what it was.

He had barely reached the water, however, when an immense octopus rose

into view, and at once made for the terrified man, who instantly saw his

danger, and with great presence of mind promptly turned and scrambled

back into the boat.

The terrible creature was after him, however, and to the horror of the

onlookers it extended its great flexible tentacles, enveloped the entire

boat, man and all, and then dragged the whole down into the clear depths.

The diver's horrified comrades rushed to his assistance, and an attempt

was made to kill the octopus with a harpoon, but without success. Several

of his more resourceful companions then dived into the water with a big

net made of stout twine, which they took right underneath the octopus,

entangling the creature and its still living prey. The next step was to

drag up both man and octopus into the whale-boat, and this done, the

unfortunate Malay was at length seized by his legs, and dragged by sheer

force out of the frightful embrace, more dead than alive, as you may

suppose. However, we soon revived him by putting him into a very hot

bath, the water being at such a temperature as actually to blister his

skin. It is most remarkable that the man was not altogether drowned, as

he had been held under water by the tentacles of the octopus for rather

more than two minutes. But, like all the Malays of our party, this man

carried a knife, which he used to very good purpose on the monster's body

when first it dragged him under the water. These repeated stabs caused

the creature to keep rolling about on the surface, and the unhappy man

was in this way enabled to get an occasional breath of air; otherwise he

must infallibly have been drowned. It was a horrible-looking creature,

with a slimy body, and a hideous cavity of a mouth. It is the tentacles

of the creature that are so dreaded, on account of the immense sucking

power which they possess.

After this incident the divers always took a tomahawk with them on their

expeditions, in order to lop off the tentacles of any octopus that might

try to attack them in the boats. And, by the way, we saw many

extraordinary creatures during our cruise. I myself had a serious fright

one day whilst indulging in a swim.

We had anchored in about five fathoms, and as I was proceeding leisurely

away from the vessel at a slow breast stroke, a monstrous fish, fully

twenty feet long, with an enormous hairy head and fierce, fantastic

moustaches, suddenly reared up out of the water, high into the air. I

must say that the sight absolutely unmanned me for the moment, and when

this extraordinary creature opened his enormous mouth in my direction, I

gave myself up for lost. It did not molest me, however, and I got back

to the ship safely, but it was some little time before I recovered from

the terrible fright.

Occasionally too we were troubled with sharks, but the Malays did not

appear to be very much afraid of them. Their great dread was the ground

shark, which lay motionless at the bottom of the sea, and gave no

indication of his presence. The result was that occasionally the divers

would sink down to their work quite unknowingly almost by the side of one

of these fearful creatures, and in such cases the diver rarely escaped

without injury of some kind. With regard to the ordinary shark, however,

our divers actually sought them. Their method of capturing them was

almost incredible in its simplicity and daring. Three or four of our

divers would go out in a boat and allow themselves to drift into a big

school of sharks. Then one man, possessed of more nerve than the rest,

would bend over the side and smartly prick the first one he came across

with a spear taken out for the purpose. The moment he had succeeded in

this the other occupants of the boat would commence yelling and howling

at the top of their voices, at the same time beating the water with their

paddles, in order to frighten away the sharks. This invariably

succeeded, but, amazing to relate, the shark that had been pricked always

came back alone a few minutes later to see what it was that had pricked

him. Care has to be taken not to inflict a very severe wound, because

the moment the other sharks taste the blood of a wounded companion, they

will immediately turn upon him and eat him. When the inquisitive shark

is seen coming in the direction of the boat, the Malay who has accosted

him in this way quietly jumps overboard, armed only with his small knife

and a short stick of hard wood, exactly like a butcher's skewer, about

five inches in length, and pointed at each end.

The man floats stationary on the surface of the sea, and, naturally, the

shark makes for him. As the creature rolls over to bite, the wily Malay

glides out of his way with a few deft strokes of the left hand, whilst

with the right he deliberately plants the pointed skewer in an upright

position between the open jaws of the expectant monster. The result is

simple, but surprising. The shark is, of course, unable to close its

mouth, and the water just rushes down his throat and chokes him, in

consequence of the gills being forced back so tightly as to prevent the

escape of water through them in the natural way. Needless to remark, it

requires the greatest possible coolness and nerve to kill a shark in this

way, but the Malays look upon it as a favourite recreation and an

exciting sport. When the monster is dead its slayer dexterously climbs

on to its back, and then, digging his knife into the shark's head to

serve as a support and means of balance, the conqueror is towed back to

the ship astride his victim by means of a rope hauled by his companions

in their boats.

After many adventures and much luck in the way of getting pearls, our

food and water supply began to give out. This induced Captain Jensen to

make for the New Guinea main in order to replenish his stores. We soon

reached a likely spot on the coast, and obtained all that we wanted from

the natives by means of barter.

We gave them tomahawks, knives, hoop-iron, beads, turtles, and bright-

coloured cloth. Indeed, so friendly did our intercourse become that

parties of our divers often went ashore and joined the Papuans in their

sports and games. On one of these occasions I came across a curious

animal that bore a striking resemblance to a kangaroo, and yet was not

more than two feet high. It could climb trees like an opossum and was of

the marsupial family. The pigeons, too, which were very plentiful in

these parts, were as large as a big fowl. The headman, or chief, took

quite an interest in me, and never seemed tired of conversing with me,

and pointing out the beauties of the country. He even showed me a

certain boundary which he advised us not to pass, as the natives beyond

were not under his control. One day, however, a party of our Malays,

accompanied by myself, imprudently ventured into the forbidden country,

and soon came to a native village, at which we halted. The people here

were suspicious of us from the first, and when one of my men indiscreetly

offended a native, half the village rose against us, and we had to beat a

retreat. We were making the best of our way to the coast again, when the

friendly chief came and met us. He interceded with the indignant

tribesmen on our behalf, and succeeded in pacifying them. On reaching

the ship, which was anchored within a mile of the coast, Jensen

complained to me ominously that he was getting fairly swamped with

natives, who persisted in coming on board with fruit and vegetables for

barter. He said he was getting quite nervous about the crowds that

swarmed over the vessel, the natives going up and down as though they had

a perfect right to do so.

"I don't like it," said the captain, "and shall have to put my foot

down."

Next morning, when the usual batch of native canoes came alongside, we

declined to allow a single man on board. While we were explaining this

to them, our friend the chief himself arrived, accompanied by

half-a-dozen notables, most of whom I knew, together with the now

friendly dignitary whose wrath we had aroused the previous day. They

were all full of dignity and anticipation. Captain Jensen, however, was

obdurate, and refused permission to any one to come aboard. That was

enough for the chiefs. They went away in high dudgeon, followed

immediately by all the other canoes and their occupants. When all had

disappeared, a curious stillness came over the ship, the sea, and the

tropical coast, and a strange sense of impending danger seemed to oppress

all of us. We knew that we had offended the natives, and as we could not

see a single one of them on the beach, it was pretty evident that they

were brooding over their grievance. We might have weighed anchor and

made for the open sea, only unfortunately there was a perfect calm, and

our sails, which were set in readiness for a hasty departure, hung limp

and motionless. Suddenly, as we stood looking out anxiously over the

side in the direction of the shore, we were amazed to see at least twenty

fully-equipped war-canoes, each carrying from thirty to forty warriors,

rounding the headland, some little distance away, and making straight for

our ship. Now my shrewd Dutch partner had anticipated a possible attack,

and had accordingly armed all the Malays with tomahawks, in readiness for

any attempt that might be made to board the schooner. We had also taken

off the hatches, and made a sort of fortification with them round the

wheel.

Jensen and I armed ourselves with guns, loaded our little cannon, and

prepared to make a desperate fight for our lives against the overwhelming

odds. In spite of the danger of our position, I could not help being

struck with the magnificence of the spectacle presented by the great

fleet of boats now fast advancing towards us. The warriors had all

assumed their fighting decorations, with white stripes painted round

their dusky bodies to strike terror into the beholder. Their head-dress

consisted of many-coloured feathers projecting from the hair, which they

had matted and caused to stand bolt upright from the head. Each boat had

a prow about three feet high, surmounted by a grotesquely carved figure-

head. The war-canoes were propelled by twelve men, paddling on either

side. When the first came within hailing distance I called out and made

signs that they were not to advance unless their intentions were

peaceful. By way of reply, they merely brandished their bows and arrows

at us. There was no mistaking their mission.

It was now quite evident that we should have to make a fight for it, and

the natives were coming to the attack in such numbers as easily to

overwhelm us if they once got on board. Our position was rendered still

more awkward by the fact that all round the ship ropes were hanging down

to the water, up which our divers used to climb on their return from the

day's pearling. These ropes were attached to a sort of hawser running

round the outside bulwarks of the ship. We had not even time to haul

these up, and the enemy would certainly have found them very useful for

boarding purposes had they been allowed to get near enough. It was

therefore very necessary that some decisive step should be taken at once.

While we were debating what was best to be done, we were suddenly greeted

by a shower of arrows from the leading war-canoe. Without waiting any

longer I fired at the leader, who was standing in the prow, and bowled

him over. The bullet went right through his body, and then bored a hole

low down in the side of the canoe. The amazement of the warriors on

hearing the report and seeing the mysterious damage done is quite beyond

description; and before they could recover from their astonishment,

Jensen sent a charge of grape-shot right into their midst, which

shattered several of the canoes and caused a general halt in the advance.

Again I made signs to them not to come nearer, and they seemed undecided

what to do. Jabbering consultations were held, but while they were thus

hesitating ten more canoes swung round the headland, and their appearance

seemed to give the advance-guard fresh courage.

Once more they made for our ship, but I was ready for them with the

little cannon we had on board; it had been reloaded with grape after the

first discharge. With a roar the gun belched forth a second deadly hail

against the advancing savages, and the effect was to demoralise them

completely. One of the canoes was shattered to pieces, and nearly all

the men in it more or less seriously wounded; whilst the occupants of

several other canoes received injuries.

Quite a panic now ensued, and the fleet of canoes got inextricably mixed.

Several showers of arrows, however, descended on our deck, and some of

them penetrated the sails, but no one was injured. The natives were too

much afraid to advance any farther, and as a wind had now sprung up we

deemed it time to make a dash for liberty. We therefore quietly slipped

our anchor and, heading the ship for the open sea, glided swiftly past

the enemy's fleet, whose gaily decked, though sorely bewildered, warriors

greeted us with a Parthian flight of arrows as we raced by. In another

half-hour we were well out to sea, and able to breathe freely once more.

CHAPTER II

The three black pearls--The fatal morning--Jensen and his flotilla drift

away--Alone on the ship--"Oil on the troubled waters"--A substitute for a

rudder--Smoke signals--The whirlpool--The savages attack--I escape from

the blacks--A strange monster--The _Veielland_ strikes a reef--Stone deaf

through the big wave--I leap into the sea--How Bruno helped me ashore--The

dreary island--My raft--A horrible discovery.

This adventure made our Malay crew very anxious to leave these regions.

They had not forgotten the octopus incident either, and they now

appointed their serang to wait upon the captain--a kind of "one-man"

deputation--to persuade him, if possible, to sail for fresh

fishing-grounds. At first Jensen tried to persuade them to remain in the

same latitudes, which is not to be wondered at, seeing the harvest he had

secured; but they would not listen to this, and at last he was compelled

to direct his ship towards some other quarter. Where he took us to I

cannot say, but in the course of another week we dropped anchor in some

practically unexplored pearling grounds, and got to work once more. Our

luck was still with us, and we continued increasing every day the value

of our already substantial treasure. In these new grounds we found a

particularly small shell very rich in pearls, which required no diving

for at all. They were secured by means of a trawl or scoop dragged from

the stern of the lifeboat; and when the tide was low the men jumped into

the shallow water and picked them up at their ease.

One morning, as I was opening the shells as usual, out from one dropped

three magnificent black pearls. I gazed at them, fascinated--why, I know

not. Ah! those terrible three black pearls; would to God they had never

been found! When I showed them to the captain he became very excited,

and said that, as they were worth nearly all the others put together, it

would be well worth our while trying to find more like them. Now, this

meant stopping at sea longer than was either customary or advisable. The

pearling season was practically at an end, and the yearly cyclonic

changes were actually due, but the captain had got the "pearl fever" very

badly and flatly refused to leave. Already we had made an enormous haul,

and in addition to the stock in my charge Jensen had rows of pickle

bottles full of pearls in his cabin, which he would sit and gloat over

for hours like a miser with his gold. He kept on saying that there

_must_ be more of these black pearls to be obtained; the three we had

found could not possibly be isolated specimens and so on. Accordingly,

we kept our divers at work day after day as usual. Of course, I did not

know much about the awful dangers to which we were exposing ourselves by

remaining out in such uncertain seas when the cyclones were due; and I

did not, I confess, see any great reason why we should _not_ continue

pearling. I was inexperienced, you see.

The pearl-fishing season, as I afterwards learned, extends from November

to May. Well, May came and went, and we were still hard at work, hoping

that each day would bring another haul of black pearls to our store of

treasure; in this, however, we were disappointed. And yet the captain

became more determined than ever to find some. He continued to take

charge of the whale-boat whenever the divers went out to work, and he

personally superintended their operations. He knew very well that he had

already kept them at work longer than he ought to have done, and it was

only by a judicious distribution of more jewellery, pieces of cloth, &c.,

that he withheld them from openly rebelling against the extended stay.

The serang told him that if the men did once go on strike, nothing would

induce them to resume work, they would simply sulk, he said; and die out

of sheer disappointment and pettishness. So the captain was compelled to

treat them more amiably than usual. At the very outside their contract

would only be for nine months. Sometimes when he showed signs of being

in a cantankerous mood because the haul of shells did not please him, the

serang would say to him defiantly, "Come on; take it out of me if you are

not satisfied." But Jensen never accepted the challenge. As the days

passed, I thought the weather showed indications of a change; for one

thing, the aneroid began jumping about in a very uneasy manner. I called

Jensen's attention to the matter, but he was too much interested in his

hunt for black pearls to listen to me.

And now I pass to the fatal day that made me an outcast from civilisation

for so many weary years. Early one morning in July 1864, Jensen went off

as usual with the whole of his crew, leaving me absolutely alone in

charge of the ship. The women had often accompanied the divers on their

expeditions, and did so on this occasion, being rather expert at the

work, which they looked upon as sport.

Whenever I look back upon the events of that dreadful day, I am filled

with astonishment that the captain should have been so mad as to leave

the ship at all. Only an hour before he left, a tidal wave broke over

the stern, and flooded the cabins with a perfect deluge. Both Jensen and

I were down below at the time, and came in for an awful drenching. This

in itself was a clear and ominous indication of atmospheric disturbance;

but all that poor Jensen did was to have the pumps set to work, and after

the cabins were comparatively dry he proceeded once more to the pearl

banks that fascinated him so, and on which he probably sleeps to this

day. The tide was favourable when he left, and I watched the fleet of

little boats following in the wake of the whale-boat, until they were

some three miles distant from the ship, when they stopped for

preparations to be made for the work of diving. I had no presentiment

whatever of the catastrophe that awaited them and me.

A cool, refreshing breeze had been blowing up to his time, but the wind

now developed a sudden violence, and the sea was lashed into huge waves

that quickly swamped nearly every one of the little cockle-shell boats.

Fortunately, they could not sink, and as I watched I saw that the Malays

who were thus thrown into the water clung to the sides of the little

boats, and made the best of their way to the big craft in charge of

Captain Jensen. Every moment the sea became more and more turbulent as

the wind quickened to a hurricane. When all the Malays had scrambled

into the whale-boat, they attempted to pull back to the ship, but I could

see that they were unable to make the slightest headway against the

tremendous sea that was running, although they worked frantically at the

oars.

On the contrary, I was horrified to see that they were gradually drifting

_away from me_, and being carried farther and farther out across the

illimitable sea. I was nearly distracted at the sight, and I racked my

brains to devise some means of helping them, but could think of nothing

feasible. I thought first of all of trying to slip the anchor and let

the ship drift in their direction, but I was by no means sure that she

would actually do this. Besides, I reflected, she might strike on some

of the insidious coral reefs that abound in those fair but terribly

dangerous seas. So I came to the conclusion that it would be better to

let her remain where she was--at least, for the time being. Moreover, I

felt sure that the captain, with his knowledge of those regions, would

know of some island or convenient sandbank, perhaps not very far distant,

on which he might run his boat for safety until the storm had passed.

The boats receded farther and farther from view, until, about nine in the

morning, I lost sight of them altogether. They had started out soon

after sunrise. It then occurred to me that I ought to put the ship into

some sort of condition to enable her to weather the storm, which was

increasing instead of abating. This was not the first storm I had

experienced on board the _Veielland_, so I knew pretty well what to do.

First of all, then, I battened down the hatches; this done, I made every

movable thing on deck as secure as I possibly could. Fortunately all the

sails were furled at the time, so I had no trouble with them. By mid-day

it was blowing so hard that I positively could not stand upright, but had

to crawl about on my hands and knees, otherwise I should have been hurled

overboard. I also attached myself to a long rope, and fastened the other

end to one of the masts, so that in the event of my being washed into the

raging sea, I could pull myself on board again.

Blinding rain had been falling most of the time, and the waves came

dashing over the deck as though longing to engulf the little ship; but

she rode them all in splendid style. The climax was reached about two

o'clock, when a perfect cyclone was raging, and the end seemed very near

for me. It made me shudder to listen to the wind screaming and moaning

round the bare poles of the sturdy little vessel, which rose on veritable

mountains of water and crashed as suddenly into seething abysses that

made my heart stand still. Then the weather suddenly became calm once

more--a change that was as unexpected as the advent of the storm itself.

The sky, however, continued very black and threatening, and the sea was

still somewhat boisterous; but both wind and rain had practically

subsided, and I could now look around me without feeling that if I

stirred I was a doomed man. I clambered up the lower portion of the main

rigging, but only saw black, turbulent waters, hissing and heaving, and

raging on every side, and seemingly stretching away into infinity. With

terrible force the utter awfulness and hopelessness of my position dawned

upon me, yet I did not despair. I next thought it advisable to try and

slip my anchor, and let the ship drift, for I still half-fancied that

perhaps I might come across my companions somewhere. Before I could free

the vessel, however, the wind veered completely round, and, to my horror

and despair, sent a veritable mountain of water on board, that carried

away nearly all the bulwarks, the galley, the top of the companion-way,

and, worst of all, completely wrenched off the wheel. Compasses and

charts were all stored in the companion-way, and were therefore lost for

ever. Then, indeed, I felt the end was near. Fortunately, I was for'ard

at the time, or I must inevitably have been swept into the appalling

waste of whirling, mountainous waters. This lashing of myself to the

mast, by the way, was the means of saving my life time after time. Soon

after the big sea--which I had hoped was a final effort of the terrible

storm--the gale returned and blew in the opposite direction with even

greater fury than before. I spent an awful time of it the whole night

long, without a soul to speak to or help me, and every moment I thought

the ship must go down, in that fearful sea. The only living thing on

board beside myself was the captain's dog, which I could occasionally

hear howling dismally in the cabin below, where I had shut him in when

the cyclone first burst upon me.

Among the articles carried overboard by the big sea that smashed the

wheel was a large cask full of oil, made from turtle fat, in which we

always kept a supply of fresh meats, consisting mainly of pork and fowls.

This cask contained perhaps twenty gallons, and when it overturned, the

oil flowed all over the decks and trickled into the sea. The effect was

simply magical. Almost immediately the storm-tossed waves in the

vicinity of the ship, which hitherto had been raging mountains high,

quieted down in a way that filled me with astonishment. This

tranquillity prevailed as long as the oil lasted; but as soon as the

supply was exhausted the giant waves became as turbulent and mountainous

as ever.

All night long the gale blew the ship blindly hither and thither, and it

was not until just before daybreak that the storm showed any signs of

abating. By six o'clock, however, only a slight wind was blowing, and

the sea no longer threatened to engulf me and my little vessel. I was

now able to look about me, and see what damage had been done; and you may

imagine my relief when I found that the ship was still sound and water-

tight, although the bulwarks were all gone, and she had all the

appearance of a derelict. One of the first things I did was to go down

and unloose the dog--poor Bruno. The delight of the poor creature knew

no bounds, and he rushed madly up on deck, barking frantically for his

absent master. He seemed very much surprised to find no one aboard

besides myself.

Alas! I never saw Peter Jensen again, nor the forty Malays and the two

women. Jensen _may_ have escaped; he may even have lived to read these

lines; God only knows what was the fate of the unfortunate fleet of pearl-

fishers. Priggish and uncharitable people may ejaculate: "The reward of

cupidity!" But I say, "judge not, lest ye also be judged."

As the morning had now become beautifully fine, I thought I might attempt

to get out some spare sails. I obtained what I wanted from the fo'c'sle,

and after a good deal of work managed to "bend" a mainsail and staysail.

Being without compass or chart, however, I knew not where I was, nor

could I decide what course to take in order to reach land. I had a vague

idea that the seas in those regions were studded with innumerable little

islands and sandbanks known only to the pearl-fishers, and it seemed

inevitable that I must run aground somewhere or get stranded upon a coral

reef after I had slipped the cable.

However, I did not see what advantage was to be gained by remaining where

I was, so I fixed from the stern a couple of long sweeps, or steering

oars, twenty-six feet long, and made them answer the purpose of a rudder.

These arrangements occupied me two or three days, and then, when

everything was completed to my satisfaction, and the ship was in sailing

trim, I gave the _Veielland_ her freedom. This I managed as follows: The

moment the chain was at its tautest--at its greatest tension--I gave it a

violent blow with a big axe, and it parted. I steered due west, taking

my observations by the sun and my own shadow at morning, noon, and

evening. For I had been taught to reckon the degree of latitude from the

number of inches of my shadow. After a time I altered my course to west

by south, hoping that I might come upon one of the islands of the Dutch

Indies,--Timorland, for instance, but day after day passed without land

coming in sight.

Imagine the situation, if you can: alone on a disabled ship in the

limitless ocean,--tortured with doubts and fears about the fate of my

comrades, and filled with horror and despair at my own miserable

prospects for the future.

I did not sail the ship at night, but got out a sea-anchor (using a float

and a long coir rope), and lay-to while I turned in for a sleep. I would

be up at day-break next morning, and as the weather continued beautifully

fine, I had no difficulty in getting under way again. At last the

expected happened. One afternoon, without any warning whatsoever, the

vessel struck heavily on a reef. I hurriedly constructed a raft out of

the hatches and spare spars, and put biscuits and water aboard, after

which I landed on the rocks. When the tide reached its lowest point the

stern of the _Veielland_ was left fully _twenty feet out of water_,

securely jammed between two high pinnacles of coral rock. The sight was

remarkable in the extreme. The sails were still set, and the stiff

breeze that was blowing dead against them caused them to belly out just

as though the craft were afloat, and practically helped to keep the

vessel in position. The bows were much higher than the stern, the line

of the decks being at an angle of about forty-five degrees. In this

remarkable situation she remained secure until the turning of the tide.

My only hope was that she would not suffer from the tremendous strain to

which she was necessarily being subjected. It seemed to me every minute

that she would free herself from her singular position between the rocks,

and glide down bows foremost into the sea to disappear for ever. But the

sails kept her back. How earnestly I watched the rising of the waters;

and night came on as I waited. Slowly and surely they crept up the bows,

and the ship gradually assumed her natural level until at length the

stanch little craft floated safe and sound once more, apparently very

little the worse for her strange experience. And then away I went on my

way--by this time almost schooled to indifference. Had she gone down I

must inevitably have succumbed on those coral reefs, for the stock of

biscuits and water I had been able to put aboard the raft would only have

lasted a very few days.

For nearly a fortnight after the day of the great storm I kept on the

same course without experiencing any unpleasant incident or check, always

excepting the curious threatened wreck which I have just mentioned.

Just before dusk on the evening of the thirteenth day, I caught sight of

an island in the distance--Melville Island I now know it to be; and I was

greatly puzzled to see smoke floating upwards apparently from many fires

kindled on the beach. I knew that they were signals of some kind, and at

first I fancied that it must be one of the friendly Malay islands that I

was approaching. A closer scrutiny of the smoke signals, however, soon

convinced me that I was mistaken. As I drew nearer, I saw a number of

natives, perfectly nude, running wildly about on the beach and

brandishing their spears in my direction.

I did not like the look of things at all, but when I tried to turn the

head of the ship to skirt the island instead of heading straight on, I

found to my vexation that I was being carried forward by a strong tide or

current straight into what appeared to be a large bay or inlet. I had no

alternative but to let myself drift, and soon afterwards found myself in

a sort of natural harbour three or four miles wide, with very threatening

coral reefs showing above the surface. Still the current drew me

helplessly onward, and in a few minutes the ship was caught in a

dangerous whirlpool, round which she was carried several times before I

managed to extricate her. Next we were drawn close in to some rocks, and

I had to stand resolutely by with an oar in order to keep the vessel's

head from striking. It was a time of most trying excitement for me, and

I wonder to this day how it was that the _Veielland_ did not strike and

founder then and there, considering, firstly, that she was virtually a

derelict, and secondly, that there was no living creature on board to

navigate her save myself.

I was beginning to despair of ever pulling the vessel through, when we

suddenly entered a narrow strait. I knew that I was in a waterway

between two islands--Apsley Strait, dividing Melville and Bathurst

Islands, as I have since learned.

The warlike and threatening natives had now been left behind long ago,

and I never thought of meeting any other hostile people, when just as I

had reached the narrowest part of the waterway, I was startled by the

appearance of a great horde of naked blacks--giants, every one of them--on

the rocks above me.

They were tremendously excited, and greeted me first of all with a shower

of spears. Fortunately, on encountering the first lot of threatening

blacks, I had prepared a shelter for myself on deck by means of the

hatches reared up endwise against the stanchions, and so the spears fell

harmlessly around me. Next, the natives sent a volley of boomerangs on

board, but without any result. Some of these curious weapons hit the

sails and fell impotently on the deck, whilst some returned to their

throwers, who were standing on the rocks about fifty yards away, near the

edge of the water. I afterwards secured the boomerangs that came on

board, and found that they were about twenty-four inches in length,

shaped like the blade of a sickle, and measured three or four inches

across at the widest part.

They were made of extremely hard wood, and were undoubtedly capable of

doing considerable injury when dexterously and accurately thrown. The

blacks kept up a terrific hubbub on shore, yelling like madmen, and

hurling at me showers of barbed spears. The fact that they had

boomerangs convinced me that I must be nearing the Australian mainland.

All this time the current was carrying the _Veielland_ rapidly along, and

I had soon left the natives jabbering furiously far behind me.

At last I could see the open sea once more, and at the mouth of the

strait was a little low, wooded island, where I thought I might venture

to land. As I was approaching it, however, yet another crowd of blacks,

all armed, came rushing down to the beach; they jumped into their

catamarans, or "floats," and paddled out towards me.

After my previous experience I deemed it advisable not to let them get

too near, so I hoisted the mainsail again and stood for the open sea.

There was a good supply of guns and ammunition on board, and it would

have been an easy matter for me to have sunk one or two of the native

catamarans, which are mere primitive rafts or floats, and so cooled their

enthusiasm a bit; but I refrained, on reflecting that I should not gain

anything by this action.

By this time I had abandoned all hope of ever coming up with my friends,

but, of course, I did not despair of reaching land--although I hardly

knew in what direction I ought to shape my course. Still, I thought that

if I kept due west, I should eventually sight Timor or some other island

of the Dutch Indies, and so, for the next three or four days, I sailed

steadily on without further incident.

About a week after meeting with the hostile blacks, half a gale sprang

up, and I busied myself in putting the ship into trim to weather the

storm, which I knew was inevitable. I happened to be looking over the

stern watching the clouds gathering in dark, black masses, when a strange

upheaval of the waters took place almost at my feet, and a huge black

fish, like an exaggerated porpoise, leaped into the air close to the

stern of my little vessel.

It was a monstrous, ungainly looking creature, nearly the size of a small

whale. The strange way it disported itself alongside the ship filled me

with all manner of doubtings, and I was heartily thankful when it

suddenly disappeared from sight. The weather then became more

boisterous, and as the day advanced I strove my utmost to keep the ship's

head well before the wind; it was very exhausting work. I was unable to

keep anything like an adequate look-out ahead, and had to trust to

Providence to pull me through safely.

All this time I did not want for food. Certainly I could not cook

anything, but there was any quantity of tinned provisions. And I fed

Bruno, too. I conversed with him almost hourly, and derived much

encouragement and sympathy therefrom. One morning sometime between the

fifteenth and twentieth day, I was scanning the horizon with my customary

eagerness, when suddenly, on looking ahead, I found the sea white with

the foam of crashing breakers; I knew I must be in the vicinity of a

sunken reef. I tried to get the ship round, but it was too late. I

couldn't make the slightest impression upon her, and she forged stolidly

forward to her doom.

A few minutes later her keel came into violent contact with a coral reef,

and as she grated slowly over it, the poor thing seemed to shiver from

stem to stern. The shock was so severe that I was thrown heavily to the

deck. Bruno could make nothing whatever of it, so he found relief in

doleful howls. While the vessel remained stuck on the rocks, I was

looking out anxiously from the rigging, when, without a moment's warning,

a gigantic wave came toppling and crashing overboard from the stern,

overwhelming me in the general destruction that followed. I was dashed

with tremendous force on to the deck, and when I picked myself up,

bruised and bleeding, the first thing I was conscious of was a deathly

stillness, which filled me with vague amazement, considering that but a

few moments before my ears had been filled with the roar and crash of the

breakers. And I could see that the storm was still raging with great

fury, although not a sound reached my ears.

Gradually the horrible truth dawned upon me--_I was stone deaf_! The

blow on the head from the great wave had completely deprived me of all

sense of hearing. How depressed I felt when I realised this awful fact

no one can imagine. Nevertheless, things were not altogether hopeless,

for next morning I felt a sudden crack in my left ear, and immediately

afterwards I heard once more the dull roar of the surf, the whistling of

the wind, and the barking of my affectionate dog. My right ear, however,

was permanently injured, and to this day I am decidedly deaf in that

organ. I was just beginning to think that we had passed over the most

serious part of the danger, when to my utter despair I again heard that

hideous grating sound, and knew she had struck upon another reef. She

stuck there for a time, but was again forced on, and presently floated in

deep water. The pitiless reefs were now plainly visible on all sides,

and some distance away I could see what appeared to be nothing more than

a little sandbank rising a few feet above the waters of the lagoon.

While I was watching and waiting for developments the deck of the vessel

suddenly started, and she began rapidly to settle down by the stern.

Fortunately, however, at that point the water was not excessively deep.

When I saw that nothing could save the ship, and that her deck was all

but flush with the water, I loosened several of the fittings, as well as

some spars, casks, and chests, in the hope that they might drift to land

and perhaps be of service to me afterwards. I remained on board as long

as I possibly could, trying to build a raft with which to get some things

ashore, but I hadn't time to finish it.

Up and up came the inexorable water, and at last, signalling to Bruno to

follow me, I leaped into the sea and commenced to swim towards the

sandbank. Of course, all the boats had been lost when the pearling fleet

disappeared. The sea was still very rough, and as the tide was against

us, I found it extremely exhausting work. The dog seemed to understand

that I was finding it a dreadful strain, for he swam immediately in front

of me, and kept turning round again and again as though to see if I were

following safely.

By dint of tremendous struggling I managed to get close up to the shore,

but found it utterly impossible to climb up and land. Every time I

essayed to plant my legs on the beach, the irresistible backwash swept me

down, rolling me head over heels, and in my exhausted condition this

filled me with despair. On one occasion this backwash sent me spinning

into deep water again, and I am sure I should have been drowned had not

my brave dog come to my rescue and seized me by my hair--which, I should

have explained, I had always worn long from the days of my childhood.

Well, my dog tugged and tugged at me until he had got me half-way through

the breakers, nor did this exertion seem to cause him much trouble in

swimming.

I then exerted myself sufficiently to allow of his letting go my hair,

whilst I took the end of his tail between my teeth, and let him help me

ashore in this peculiar way. He was a remarkably strong and sagacious

brute--an Australian dog--and he seemed to enjoy the task. At length I

found myself on my legs upon the beach, though hardly able to move from

exhaustion of mind and body. When at length I had recovered sufficiently

to walk about, I made a hasty survey of the little island or sandbank

upon which I found myself. Thank God, I did not realise at that moment

that I was doomed to spend a soul-killing _two and a half years_ on that

desolate, microscopical strip of sand! Had I done so I must have gone

raving mad. It was an appalling, dreary-looking spot, without one single

tree or bush growing upon it to relieve the terrible monotony. I tell

you, words can never describe the horror of the agonising months as they

crawled by. "My island" was nothing but a little sand-spit, with here

and there a few tufts of grass struggling through its parched surface. As

a matter of fact the sand was only four or five inches deep in most

places, and underneath was solid coral rock.

Think of it, ye who have envied the fate of the castaway on a gorgeous

and fertile tropical island perhaps miles in extent! It was _barely a

hundred yards in length_, _ten yards wide_, _and only eight feet above

sea-level at high water_! There was no sign of animal life upon it, but

birds were plentiful enough--particularly pelicans. My tour of the

island occupied perhaps ten minutes; and you may perhaps form some

conception of my utter dismay on failing to come across any trace of

fresh water.

With what eager eyes did I look towards the ship then! So long as she

did not break up I was safe because there were water and provisions in

plenty on board. And how I thanked my God for the adamant bulwarks of

coral that protected my ark from the fury of the treacherous seas! As

the weather became calmer, and a brilliant moon had risen, I decided to

swim back to the ship, and bring some food and clothing ashore from her.

I reached the wreck without much trouble, and clambered on board, but

could do very little in the way of saving goods, as the decks were still

below water. However, I dived, or rather ducked, for the depth of water

was only four or five feet, into the cabin and secured some blankets, but

I could not lay my hands on any food.

After infinite trouble I managed to make some sort of a raft out of

pieces of wood I found lying loose and floating about, and upon this

platform I placed the blankets, an oak chest, and one or two other

articles I proposed taking ashore. In the oak chest were a number of

flags, some clothing and medicine together with my case of pearls and the

four medical books. But after I had launched it, I found that the tide

was still running out, and it was impossible for me to get anything

ashore that night. The weather was beautifully fine, however, and as the

forepart of the ship was well out of water, I decided to remain on board

and get an hour or two's sleep, which I needed badly. The night passed

without incident, and I was astir a little before dawn.

As the tide was now favourable, I loosed my raft and swam it ashore. When

I gained the island, I made another survey of it, to find the most

suitable spot for pitching my camp, and in the course of my wanderings I

made a discovery that filled me with horror and the anguish of blackest

despair. My curiosity was first attracted by a human skull that lay near

a large circular depression in the sand about two feet deep. I commenced

scratching with my fingers at one side, and had only gone a few inches

down, when I came upon a quantity of human remains.

The sight struck terror to my heart, and filled me with the most dismal

forebodings. "My own bones," I thought, "will soon be added to the

pile." So great was my agony of mind that I had to leave the spot, and

interest myself in other things; but some time afterwards, when I had got

over my nervousness, I renewed my digging operations, and in an hour or

so had unearthed no fewer than sixteen complete skeletons--fourteen

adults, and two younger people, possibly women! They lay alongside one

another, covered by sand that had been blown over them by the wind.

CHAPTER III

On the wreck--Efforts to kindle a fire--My flagstaff--Clothing

impossible--Growing corn in turtles' blood--My house of pearl shells--How

the pelicans fished for me--Stung by a "sting-rae"--My amusements--A

peculiar clock--Threatened madness--I begin to build a boat--An appalling

blunder--Riding on turtles--Preaching to Bruno--Canine sympathy--A

sail--How I got fresh water--Sending messages by the pelicans--A

wonderful almanac--A mysterious voice of hope--Human beings at last.

That morning I made my breakfast off raw sea-gulls' eggs, but was unable

to get anything to drink. Between nine and ten o'clock, as the tide was

then very low, I was delighted to find that it was possible to reach the

wreck by walking along the rocks. So, scrambling aboard, I collected as

many things as I could possibly transfer ashore. I had to take dangerous

headers into the cabin, as the whole ship's interior was now full of

water, but all I could manage to secure were a tomahawk and my bow and

arrows, which had been given me by the Papuans. I had always taken a

keen interest in archery, by the way, and had made quite a name for

myself in this direction long before I left Switzerland. I also took out

a cooking-kettle. All these seemingly unimportant finds were of vital

importance in the most literal sense of the phrase, particularly the

tomahawk and the bow, which were in after years my very salvation time

after time.

I was very delighted when I secured my bow and arrows, for I knew that

with them I could always be certain of killing sea-fowl for food. There

was a stock of gunpowder on board and a number of rifles and shot-guns,

but as the former was hopelessly spoiled, I did not trouble about either.

With my tomahawk I cut away some of the ship's woodwork, which I threw

overboard and let drift to land to serve as fuel. When I did eventually

return to my little island, I unravelled a piece of rope, and then tried

to produce fire by rubbing two pieces of wood smartly together amidst the

inflammable material. It was a hopeless business, however; a full half-

hour's friction only made the sticks hot, and rub as hard as I would I

could not produce the faintest suspicion of a spark. I sat down

helplessly, and wondered how the savages I had read of ever got fire in

this way.

Up to this time I had not built myself a shelter of any kind. At night I

simply slept in the open air on the sand, with only my blankets round me.

One morning I was able to get out of the vessel some kegs of precious

water, a small barrel of flour, and a quantity of tinned foods. All

these, together with some sails, spars, and ropes, I got safely ashore,

and in the afternoon I rigged myself up a sort of canvas awning as a

sleeping-place, using only some sails and spars.

Among the things I brought from the ship on a subsequent visit were a

stiletto that had originally been given to me by my mother. It was an

old family relic with a black ebony handle and a finely tempered steel

blade four or five inches in length. I also got a stone tomahawk--a mere

curio, obtained from the Papuans; and a quantity of a special kind of

wood, also taken on board at New Guinea. This wood possessed the

peculiar property of smouldering for hours when once ignited, without

actually bursting into flame. We took it on board because it made such

good fuel.

As the most urgent matter was to kindle a fire, I began experiments with

my two weapons, striking the steel tomahawk against the stone one over a

heap of fluffy material made by unravelling and teasing out a piece of

blanket. Success attended my patient efforts this time, and to my

inexpressible relief and joy I soon had a cheerful fire blazing alongside

my improvised shelter--and, what is more, I took good care _never to let

it go out during the whole lime I remained a prisoner on the island_. The

fire was always my first thought, and night and day it was kept at least

smouldering by means of the New Guinea wood I have already mentioned, and

of which I found a large stock on board. The ship itself, I should

mention, provided me with all the fuel that was required in the ordinary

way, and, moreover, I was constantly finding pieces of wreckage along the

shore that had been gathered in by the restless waves. Often--oh!

often--I reflected with a shudder what my fate would have been had the

ship gone down in deep water, leaving me safe, but deprived of all the

stores she contained. The long, lingering agony, the starvation, the

madness of thirst, and finally a horrible death on that far-away strip of

sand, and another skeleton added to that grisly pile!

The days passed slowly by. In what part of the world I was located I had

not the remotest idea. I felt that I was altogether out of the beaten

track of ships because of the reefs that studded these seas, and

therefore the prospect of my being rescued was very remote indeed--a

thought that often caused me a kind of dull agony, more terrible than any

mere physical pain.

However, I fixed up a flagstaff on the highest point of the island--(poor

"island,"--_that_ was not many inches)--and floated an ensign _upside

down_ from it, in the hope that this signal of distress might be sighted

by some stray vessel, and indicate the presence of a castaway to those on

board. Every morning I made my way to the flagstaff, and scanned the

horizon for a possible sail, but I always had to come away disappointed.

This became a habit; yet, so eternal is hope, that day by day, week by

week, and month by month the bitter disappointment was always a keen

torture. By the way, the very reefs that made those seas so dangerous

served completely to protect my little island in stormy weather. The

fury of the billows lost itself upon them, so that even the surf very

rarely reached me. I was usually astir about sunrise. I knew that the

sun rose about 6 A.M. in those tropical seas and set at 6 P.M.; there was

very little variation all the year round. A heavy dew descended at

night, which made the air delightfully cool; but in the day it was so

frightfully hot that I could not bear the weight of ordinary clothes upon

my person, so I took to wearing a silk shawl instead, hung loosely round

my waist.

Another reason why I abandoned clothes was because I found that when a

rent appeared the sun blazed down through it and raised a painful

blister. On the other hand, by merely wearing a waist-cloth, and taking

constant sea baths, I suffered scarcely at all from the scorching

tropical sun. I now devoted all my energies to the wreck of the

_Veielland_, lest anything should happen to it, and worked with feverish

energy to get everything I possibly could out of the ship. It took me

some months to accomplish this, but eventually I had removed

everything--even the greater part of the cargo of pearl shells. The work

was rendered particularly arduous in consequence of the decks being so

frequently under water; and I found it was only at the full and new moons

that I could actually _walk_ round on the rocks to the wreck. In course

of time the ship began to break up, and I materially assisted the

operation with an axe. I wanted her timbers to build a boat in which to

escape.

The casks of flour I floated ashore were very little the worse for their

immersion; in fact, the water had only soaked through to the depth of a

couple of inches, forming a kind of protecting wet crust, and leaving the

inner part perfectly dry and good. Much of this flour, however, was

afterwards spoiled by weevils; nor did my spreading out the precious

grain in the sunlight on tarpaulins and sails save it from at least

partial destruction. I also brought ashore bags of beans, rice, and

maize; cases of preserved milk and vegetables, and innumerable other

articles of food, besides some small casks of oil and rum. In fact, I

stripped the ship's interior of everything, and at the end of nine months

very little remained of her on the rocks but the bare skeleton of the

hull. I moved all the things out day by day according to the tides.

In a large chest that came ashore from the captain's cabin I found a

stock of all kinds of seeds, and I resolved to see whether I could grow a

little corn. Jensen himself had put the seeds aboard in order to plant

them on some of the islands near which we might be compelled to anchor

for some length of time. Another object was to grow plants on board for

the amusement of the Malays. The seeds included vegetables, flowers, and

Indian corn, the last named being in the cob. The Malays are very fond

of flowers, and the captain told them that they might try and cultivate

some in boxes on board; but when he saw that this would mean an

additional drain upon his supply of fresh water he withdrew the

permission. I knew that salt water would not nourish plants, and I was

equally certain I could not spare fresh water from my own stock for this

purpose.

Nevertheless, I set my wits to work, and at length decided upon an

interesting experiment. I filled a large turtle shell with sand and a

little clay, and thoroughly wetted the mixture with turtle's blood, then

stirring the mass into a puddle and planting corn in it.

The grain quickly sprouted, and flourished so rapidly, that within a very

short time I was able to transplant it--always, however, nourishing it

with the blood of turtles. This most satisfactory result induced me to

extend my operation, and I soon had quaint little crops of maize and

wheat growing in huge turtle shells; the wheat-plants, however, did not

reach maturity.

For a long time I was content with the simple awning I have described as

a place of shelter, but when I began to recover the pearl shells from the

ship, it occurred to me that I might use them as material with which to

build some kind of a hut. Altogether there were about thirty tons of

pearl shells on board, and at first I took to diving for them merely as a

sort of pastime.

I spent many weeks getting enough shells ashore to build a couple of

parallel walls, each about seven feet high, three feet thick, and ten

feet in length. The breeze blew gratefully through them. I filled the

interstices of these walls with a puddle of clayey sand and water,

covered in the top with canvas, and made quite a comfortable living-place

out of it. The walls at any rate had a high commercial value! When the

wet season set in I built a third wall at one end, and erected a sort of

double awning in front, under which I always kept my fire burning. I

also put a straw thatch over the hut, proudly using my own straw which I

had grown with blood.

In course of time I made myself crude articles of furniture, including a

table, some chairs, a bed, &c. My bedding at first consisted of sails,

but afterwards I was able to have a mattress filled with straw from my

corn patch. The kettle I had saved from the wreck was for a long time my

only cooking utensil, so when I had anything to prepare I generally made

an oven in the sand, after the manner of the natives I had met on the New

Guinea main. I could always catch plenty of fish--principally mullet;

and as for sea-fowls, all that I had to do was walk over to that part of

the island where they were feeding and breeding, and knock them over with

a stick. I made dough-cakes from the flour whilst it lasted; and I had

deputies to fish for me--I mean the hundreds of pelicans. The birds who

had little ones to feed went out in the morning, and returned in the

afternoon, with from three to ten pounds of delicious fresh fish in their

curious pouches.

On alighting on the island they emptied their pouches on the sand--too

often, I must confess, solely for my benefit. Selfish bachelor birds on

returning with full pouches jerked their catch into the air, and so

swallowed it. It used to amuse me, however, to watch a robber gull,

perched on their back, cleverly and neatly intercepting the fish as it

ascended. These fish, with broiled turtle meat and tinned fruits, made

quite a sumptuous repast.

After breakfast I would have a swim when the tide was low and there was

no likelihood of sharks being about. A run along the beach in the sun

until I was dry followed, and then I returned to my awning and read aloud

to myself in English, from my medical books and my English-French

Testament, simply for the pleasure of hearing my own voice. I was a very

good linguist in those days, and spoke English particularly well long

before I left Switzerland. After breakfast, my dog and I would go out to

catch a peculiar sort of fish called the "sting-rae." These curious

creatures have a sharp bony spike about two inches in length near the

tail and this I found admirably adapted for arrow-heads. The body of the

fish resembled a huge flounder, but the tail was long and tapering. They

would come close in-shore, and I would spear them from the rocks with a

Papuan fishing-spear. The smallest I ever caught weighed fifteen pounds,

and I could never carry home more than a couple of average weight. They

have the power of stinging, I believe, electrically, hence their name. At

all events, I was once stung by one of these fish, and it was an

experience I shall never forget. It fortunately happened at a time when

some friendly blacks were at hand, otherwise I question very much whether

I should be alive to-day.

I was wading slowly along the beach in rather deep water, when I suddenly

felt a most excruciating pain in my left ankle. It seemed as though I

had just received a paralysing shock from a powerful battery, and down I

fell in a state of absolute collapse, unable to stir a finger to save

myself, although I knew I was rapidly drowning. Fortunately the blacks

who were with me came and pulled me ashore, where I slowly recovered.

There was only a slight scratch on my ankle, but for a long time my whole

body was racked with pain, and when the natives got to know of the

symptoms they told me that I had been attacked by a "sting-rae." The

spike or sting measures from two to six inches in length according to the

size of the fish.

But to return to my solitary life on the island. The flesh of the sting-

rae was not pleasant to eat, being rather tough and tasteless, so I used

it as a bait for sharks. Turtles visited the island in great numbers,

and deposited their eggs in holes made in the sand above high-water mark.

They only came on land during the night, at high tide; and whenever I

wanted a special delicacy, I turned one over on its back till morning,

when I despatched it leisurely with my tomahawk. The creatures' shells I

always devoted to the extension of my garden, which became very large,

and eventually covered fully two-thirds of the island. The maize and cob-

corn flourished remarkably well, and I generally managed to get three

crops in the course of a year. The straw came in useful for bedding

purposes, but as I found the sand-flies and other insects becoming more

and more troublesome whilst I lay on the ground, I decided to try a

hammock. I made one out of shark's hide, and slung it in my hut, when I

found that it answered my purpose splendidly.

The great thing was to ward off the dull agony, the killing depression,

and manias generally. Fortunately I was of a very active disposition,

and as a pastime I took to gymnastics, even as I had at Montreux. I

became a most proficient tumbler and acrobat, and could turn two or three

somersaults on dashing down from the sloping roof of my pearl-shell hut;

besides, I became a splendid high jumper, with and without the pole.

Another thing I interested myself in was the construction of a sun-dial.

Indeed, I spent many hours devising some means whereby I could fashion a

reliable "clock," and at last I worked out the principle of the sun-dial

on the sand. I fixed a long stick perfectly upright in the ground, and

then marked off certain spaces round it by means of pegs and pearl

shells. I calculated the hours according to the length of the shadows

cast by the sun.

But, in spite of all that I could do to interest or amuse myself, I was

frequently overwhelmed with fits of depression and despair, and more than

once I feared I should lose my mental balance and become a maniac. A

religious craze took possession of me, and, strive as I might, I could

not keep my mind from dwelling upon certain apparent discrepancies in the

various apostles' versions of the Gospel!

I found myself constantly brooding over statements made in one form by

St. Matthew, and in another by St. Luke; and I conjured up endless

theological arguments and theories, until I was driven nearly frantic.

Much as I regretted it, I was compelled at last to give up reading my New

Testament, and by the exercise of a strong will I forced myself to think

about something totally different.

It took me a long time to overcome this religious melancholia, but I

mastered it in the long run, and was greatly delighted when I found I

could once more read without being hypercritical and doubtful of

everything. Had I been cast on a luxuriant island, growing fruits and

flowers, and inhabited at least by animals--how different would it have

been! But here there was nothing to save the mind from madness--merely a

tiny strip of sand, invisible a few hundred yards out at sea.

When the fits of depression came upon me I invariably concluded that life

was unbearable, and would actually rush into the sea, with the deliberate

object of putting an end to myself. At these times my agony of mind was

far more dreadful that any degree of physical suffering could have been,

and death seemed to have a fascination for me that I could not resist.

Yet when I found myself up to my neck in water, a sudden revulsion of

feeling would come over me, and instead of drowning myself I would

indulge in a swim or a ride on a turtle's back by way of diverting my

thoughts into different channels.

Bruno always seemed to understand when I had an attack of melancholia,

and he would watch my every movement. When he saw me rushing into the

water, he would follow at my side barking and yelling like a mad thing,

until he actually made me forget the dreadful object I had in view. And

we would perhaps conclude by having a swimming race. These fits of

depression always came upon me towards evening, and generally about the

same hour.

In spite of the apparent hopelessness of my position, I never

relinquished the idea of escaping from the island some day, and

accordingly I started building a boat within a month of my shipwreck.

Not that I knew anything whatever about boat-building; but I was

convinced that I could at least make a craft of some sort that would

float. I set to work with a light heart, but later on paid dearly for my

ignorance in bitter, bitter disappointment and impotent regrets. For one

thing, I made the keel too heavy; then, again, I used planks that were

absurdly thick for the shell, though, of course, I was not aware of these

things at the time. The wreck, of course, provided me with all the

woodwork I required. In order to make the staves pliable, I soaked them

in water for a week, and then heated them over a fire, afterwards bending

them to the required shape. At the end of nine months of unremitting

labour, to which, latterly, considerable anxiety--glorious hopes and

sickening fears--was added, I had built what I considered a substantial

and sea-worthy sailing boat, fully fifteen feet long by four feet wide.

It was a heavy ungainly looking object when finished, and it required

much ingenuity on my part to launch it. This I eventually managed,

however, by means of rollers and levers; but the boat was frightfully low

in the water at the stern. It was quite watertight though, having an

outer covering of sharks' green hide, well smeared with Stockholm tar,

and an inside lining of stout canvas. I also rigged up a mast, and made

a sail. When my boat floated I fairly screamed aloud with wild delight,

and sympathetic Bruno jumped and yelped in unison.

But when all my preparations were complete, and I had rowed out a little

way, I made a discovery that nearly drove me crazy. I found I had

launched the boat in a sort of lagoon several miles in extent, barred by

a crescent of coral rocks, over which _I could not possibly drag my craft

into the open sea_. Although the water covered the reefs at high tide it

was never of sufficient depth to allow me to sail the boat over them. I

tried every possible opening, but was always arrested at some point or

other. After the first acute paroxysm of despair--beating my head with

my clenched fists--I consoled myself with the thought that when the high

tides came, they would perhaps lift the boat over that terrible barrier.

I waited, and waited, and waited, but alas! only to be disappointed. My

nine weary months of arduous travail and half-frantic anticipation were

cruelly wasted. At no time could I get the boat out into the open sea in

consequence of the rocks, and it was equally impossible for me unaided to

drag her back up the steep slope again and across the island, where she

could be launched opposite an opening in the encircling reefs. So there

my darling boat lay idly in the lagoon--a useless thing, whose sight

filled me with heartache and despair. And yet, in this very lagoon I

soon found amusement and pleasure. When I had in some measure got over

the disappointment about the boat, I took to sailing her about in the

lagoon. I also played the part of Neptune in the very extraordinary way

I have already indicated. I used to wade out to where the turtles were,

and on catching a big six-hundred-pounder, I would calmly sit astride on

his back.

Away would swim the startled creature, mostly a foot or so below the

surface. When he dived deeper I simply sat far back on the shell, and

then he was forced to come up. I steered my queer steeds in a curious

way. When I wanted my turtle to turn to the left, I simply thrust my

foot into his right eye, and _vice versa_ for the contrary direction. My

two big toes placed simultaneously over both his optics caused a halt so

abrupt as almost to unseat me. Sometimes I would go fully a mile out to

sea on one of these strange steeds. It always frightened them to have me

astride, and in their terror they swam at a tremendous pace until

compelled to desist through sheer exhaustion.

Before the wet season commenced I put a straw thatch on the roof of my

hut, as before stated, and made my quarters as snug as possible. And it

was a very necessary precaution, too, for sometimes it rained for days at

a stretch. The rain never kept me indoors, however, and I took exercise

just the same, as I didn't bother about clothes, and rather enjoyed the

shower bath. I was always devising means of making life more tolerable,

and amongst other things I made a sort of swing, which I found extremely

useful in beguiling time. I would also practise jumping with long poles.

One day I captured a young pelican, and trained him to accompany me in my

walks and assist me in my fishing operations. He also acted as a decoy.

Frequently I would hide myself in some grass, whilst my pet bird walked a

few yards away to attract his fellows. Presently he would be joined by a

whole flock, many of which I lassoed, or shot with my bow and arrows.

But for my dog--my almost human Bruno--I think I must have died. I used

to talk to him precisely as though he were a human being. We were

absolutely inseparable. I preached long sermons to him from Gospel

texts. I told him in a loud voice all about my early life and school-

days at Montreux; I recounted to him all my adventures, from the fatal

meeting with poor Peter Jensen in Singapore, right up to the present; I

sang little _chansons_ to him, and among these he had his favourites as

well as those he disliked cordially. If he did not care for a song, he

would set up a pitiful howl. I feel convinced that this constant

communing aloud with my dog saved my reason. Bruno seemed always to be

in such good spirits that I never dreamed of anything happening to him;

and his quiet, sympathetic companionship was one of the greatest

blessings I knew throughout many weird and terrible years. As I talked

to him he would sit at my feet, looking so intelligently at me that I

fancied he understood every word of what I was saying.

When the religious mania was upon me, I talked over all sorts of

theological subjects with my Bruno, and it seemed to relieve me, even

though I never received any enlightenment from him upon the knotty point

that would be puzzling me at that particular time. What delighted him

most of all was for me to tell him that I loved him very dearly, and that

he was even more valuable to me than the famous dogs of St. Bernard were

to benighted travellers in the snow.

I knew very little about musical instruments, but as I had often longed

for something to make a noise with, if only to drown the maddening crash

of the eternal surf, I fashioned a drum out of a small barrel, with

sharks' skin stretched tightly over the open ends. This I beat with a

couple of sticks as an accompaniment to my singing, and as Bruno

occasionally joined in with a howl of disapproval or a yell of joy, the

effect must have been picturesque if not musical. I was ready to do

almost anything to drown that ceaseless cr-ash, cr-ash of the breakers on

the beach, from whose melancholy and monotonous roar I could never escape

for a single moment throughout the whole of the long day. However, I

escaped its sound when I lay down to sleep at night by a very simple

plan. As I was stone-deaf in the right ear I always slept on the left

side.

Seven weary months had passed away, when one morning, on scanning the

horizon, I suddenly leaped into the air and screamed: "My God! A sail! A

sail!" I nearly became delirious with excitement, but, alas! the ship

was too far out to sea to notice my frantic signals. My island lay very

low, and all that I could make out of the vessel in the distance was her

sails. She must have been fully five miles away, yet, in my excitement,

I ran up and down the miserable beach, shouting in a frenzy and waving my

arms in the hope of attracting the attention of some one on board; but it

was all in vain. The ship, which I concluded was a pearler, kept

steadily on her way, and eventually disappeared below the horizon.

Never can I hope to describe the gnawing pain at my heart as, hoarse and

half mad, I sank exhausted on the sand, watching the last vestige of the

ship disappearing. Altogether, I saw five ships pass in this way during

my sojourn on the island, but they were always too far out at sea to

notice my signals. One of these vessels I knew to be a man-o'-war flying

the British ensign. I tried to rig up a longer flag-staff, as I thought

the original one not high enough for its purpose. Accordingly I spliced

a couple of long poles together, but to my disappointment found them too

heavy to raise in the air. Bruno always joined in my enthusiasm when a

sail was in sight; in fact, he was generally the first to detect it, and

he would bark and drag at me until he had drawn my attention to the new

hope. And I loved him for his tender sympathy in my paroxysms of regret

and disappointment. The hairy head would rub coaxingly against my arm,

the warm tongue licking my hand, and the faithful brown eyes gazing at me

with a knowledge and sympathy that were more than human--these I feel

sure saved me again and again. I might mention that, although my boat

was absolutely useless for the purpose of escape, I did not neglect her

altogether, but sailed her about the enclosed lagoon by way of practice

in the handling of her sails. This was also a welcome recreation.

I never feared a lack of fresh water, for when, in the dry season, the

ship's stock and my reserve from the wet season were exhausted, I busied

myself with the condensing of sea water in my kettle, adding to my store

literally drop by drop. Water was the only liquid I drank, all the tea

and coffee carried on board having been rendered utterly useless.

The powerful winged birds that abounded on the island one day gave me an

idea: Why not hang a message around their necks and send them forth into

the unknown? Possibly they might bring help--who knows? And with me to

conceive was to act. I got a number of empty condensed-milk tins, and,

by means of fire, separated from the cylinder the tin disc that formed

the bottom. On this disc I scratched a message with a sharp nail. In a

few words I conveyed information about the wreck and my deplorable

condition. I also gave the approximate bearings--latitude fifteen to

thirteen degrees, not far from the Australian main.

These discs--I prepared several in English, French, bad Dutch, German,

and Italian--I then fastened round the necks of the pelicans, by means of

fish-gut, and away across the ocean sped the affrighted birds, so scared

by the mysterious encumbrance that _they never returned to the island_.

I may say here that more than twenty years later, when I returned to

civilisation, I chanced to mention the story about my messenger-birds to

some old inhabitants at Fremantle, Western Australia, when, to my

amazement, they told me that a pelican carrying a tin disc round its

neck, bearing a message in French from a castaway, _had_ been found many

years previously by an old boatman on the beach near the mouth of the

Swan River. But it was not mine.

So appalling was the monotony, and so limited my resources, that I

welcomed with childish glee any trifling little incident that happened.

For example, one lovely night in June I was amazed to hear a tremendous

commotion outside, and on getting up to see what was the matter, I beheld

dimly countless thousands of birds--Java sparrows I believe them to be. I

went back to bed again, and in the morning was a little dismayed to find

that my pretty visitors had eaten up nearly all my green corn. And the

birds were still there when I went forth in the morning. They made the

air ring with their lively chatter, but the uproar they made was as music

to me. The majority of them had greyish-yellow bodies, with yellow beaks

and pink ruffs, and they were not at all afraid of me. I moved about

freely among them, and did not attempt to drive them out of my corn

patch, being only too grateful to see so much life about me. They rose,

however, in great clouds the next day, much to my regret, and as they

soared heavenwards I could not help envying them their blessed freedom.

I kept count of the long days by means of pearl shells, for I had not

used up the whole cargo in the walls of my hut. I put shells side by

side in a row, one for each day, until the number reached seven, and then

I transferred one shell to another place, representing the weeks. Another

pile of shells represented the months; and as for the years, I kept count

of those by making notches on my bow. My peculiar calendar was always

checked by the moon.

Now, I am not a superstitious man, so I relate the following

extraordinary occurrence merely as it happened, and without advancing any

theory of my own to account for it. I had been many, many months--perhaps

more than a year--on that terrible little sand-spit, and on the night I

am describing I went to bed as usual, feeling very despondent. As I lay

asleep in my hammock, I dreamed a beautiful dream. Some spiritual being

seemed to come and bend over me, smiling pityingly. So extraordinarily

vivid was the apparition, that I suddenly woke, tumbled out of my

hammock, and went outside on a vague search. In a few minutes, however,

I laughed at my own folly and turned in again.

I lay there for some little time longer, thinking about the past--for I

dared not dwell on the future--when suddenly the intense stillness of the

night was broken by a strangely familiar voice, which said, distinctly

and encouragingly, "_Je suis avec toi. Soit sans peur_. _Tu

reviendras_." I can never hope to describe my feelings at that moment.

It was not the voice of my father nor of my mother, yet it was certainly

the voice of some one I knew and loved, yet was unable to identify. The

night was strangely calm, and so startling was this mysterious message

that instinctively I leaped out of my hammock again, went outside and

called out several times, but, of course, nothing happened. From that

night, however, I never absolutely despaired, even when things looked

their very worst.

Two interminable years had passed away, when one day the weather suddenly

changed, and a terrible gale commenced to blow, which threatened almost

to wreck my little hut. One morning, a few days later, when the storm

had abated somewhat, I heard Bruno barking wildly on the beach. A few

seconds afterwards he came rushing into the hut, and would not rest until

I prepared to follow him outside. Before doing so, however, I picked up

an oar--I knew not why. I then followed my dog down to the beach,

wondering what could possibly have caused him to make such a fuss. The

sea was somewhat agitated, and as it was not yet very light, I could not

clearly distinguish things in the distance.

On peering seawards for the third or fourth time, however, I fancied I

could make out a long, black object, which I concluded must be some kind

of a boat, tossing up and down on the billows. Then I must confess I

began to share Bruno's excitement,--particularly when a few minutes later

I discerned a well-made catamaran, _with several human figures lying

prostrate upon it_!

CHAPTER IV

I try to revive my visitors--Demonstrations of amazement--A variety

entertainment--Evil spirits in the mirror--"The star above my

home"--"Preliminary canter" with the boat--A joyful procession--"Good-bye

to my island home"--Nearing the main--Among the cannibals--Smoke

telegraphy--A weird audience--A nation meets me--My first palace.

My state of mind was perfectly indescribable. Here, I thought, are some

poor shipwrecked creatures like myself; and I prayed to God that I might

be the means of saving them. The prospect of having at length some one

to converse with filled me with unutterable joy, and I could hardly

restrain myself from rushing into the water and swimming out to the

catamaran, which was still several hundred yards away from me. Would it

_never_ draw near? I thought, wild with impatience. And then, to my

horror, I saw that it was closely followed by a number of sharks, which

swam round and round it expectantly. Seeing this, I could contain myself

no longer. Sternly commanding my dog not to follow me, I waded into the

waves and then swam boldly out to the catamaran, taking good care,

however, to make a great noise as I swam, by shouting and splashing in

order to frighten away the sharks. When eventually I did come up to the

floating platform of logs, I found that there were four blacks upon it--a

man, a woman, and two boys. All were lying quite prostrate through

exhaustion, apparently more dead than alive. The sharks still hung on

persistently, but at length I drove them away by beating the water with

my oar, with which I then proceeded to paddle the catamaran ashore. You

see, the oar I grasped when Bruno came to give the alarm proved of

inestimable value; and so all through my marvellous years of sojourn

among the cannibals an undeniable Providence guided my every action. But

this will be seen from my narrative in a hundred amazing instances. I

climbed aboard the catamaran and paddled it into shallow water; and then,

jumping overboard again I pulled it right up on to the beach, and carried

the four blacks one by one into my hut. They were in a most pitiable

state of collapse. Their tongues were swollen and protruding out of

their mouths, and for a long time I could get nothing down their throats.

First of all I tried to revive them with cold water, but found they could

not swallow.

Then I remembered the rum I had saved from the wreck all this time, and

procuring some I rubbed their bodies with it, tied wet bandages round

their necks, and rolled them about in wet sails, in the hope that in this

way their bodies might absorb the necessary liquid. You see I had an

idea that they were dying from want of water. All four were terribly

emaciated, and in the last stages of exhaustion. After two or three

hours' treatment, the two boys recovered consciousness, and some little

time later the man also showed signs of reviving, but the woman did not

come to until the afternoon. None of them, of course, were able to walk;

and in the meantime they did nothing but drink water. They seemed not to

realise what had happened or where they were until the following day, and

then their surprise--mainly at the sight of me--was beyond all

description. Their first symptom was one of extreme terror, and in spite

of every kind action I could think of, they held out for a long time

against my advances--although I signed to them that I was their friend,

patting them on the shoulders to inspire confidence, and trying to make

them understand that I had saved them from a terrible death. I fancy

they all thought they had died and were now in the presence of the

mysterious Great Spirit! At any rate, it was not until they began to eat

freely that they grew in some measure accustomed to me. Then an

ungovernable curiosity manifested itself. From gazing at me unceasingly,

they took to feeling me and patting my skin. They made queer, guttural

sounds with their mouths, evidently expressive of amazement; they slapped

their thighs, and cracked their fingers.

Next, my belongings came in for inspection, and everything excited

wonderment and delight to such a degree, that I blessed Providence for

sending me so much entertaining society. My hut, with its curious

thatched roof, excited vast interest; and it was amusing to see the two

boys, aged respectively about twelve and fourteen, following their

parents about, jabbering incessantly, and giving me sly, half-terrified

glances as they examined my implements and utensils. The woman was the

first to get over her fear of me, and she soon grew to trust me

implicitly; whereas her husband never ceased to view me with inexplicable

suspicion until we regained his own country. He was a big, repulsive-

looking savage, with a morose and sullen temper; and although he never

showed signs of open antagonism, yet I never trusted him for a moment

during the six long months he was my "guest" on the little sand-bank! It

seems I unwittingly offended him, and infringed the courtesy common among

his people by declining to take advantage of a certain embarrassing offer

which he made me soon after his recovery.

It may not be anticipating too much to say here that the woman was

destined to play a vitally important part in the whole of my life, and

with her I went through adventures and saw sights more weird and

wonderful than anything I had ever read of, even in the wildest

extravagances of sensational fiction. But the ruling passion was very

strong, and one of the first things I did was to take my black friends

down to the beach and show them my precious boat floating idly in the

lagoon. Oddly enough, I had in the meantime always taken the greatest

care of the boat, keeping her bottom clean and generally furbishing her

up--having, however, no particular object in view in doing this, except

perhaps that it gave me something to do. The poor little "home-made"

boat threw the blacks into a perfect frenzy of astonishment, and they

concluded that I must have come from a very distant part of the world in

so enormous a "catamaran." As a matter of fact, from that moment they

looked upon me as most certainly a kind of Supreme Spirit from another

world; they may have had doubts before. Next I showed them the wreck,

which was now only a bare skeleton of rotting woodwork, but still plainly

discernible among the coral rocks. I tried to explain to them that it

was in the larger boat that I had come, but they failed to understand me.

On returning to the hut I put on my clothes for their benefit, whereupon

their amazement was so great that I seriously contemplated discontinuing

my list of wonders, lest they should become absolutely afraid to remain

with me. The clothes they considered part of myself--in fact, a kind of

secondary skin! They were terribly frightened and distressed, and not

one of the four dared approach me.

The blacks did not build themselves any place of shelter, but merely

slept in the open air at night, under the lee of my hut, with a large

fire always burning at their feet. I offered them both blankets and

sails by way of covering, but they refused them, preferring to lie

huddled close together for warmth. In the morning the woman would

prepare breakfast for them, consisting of fish (mainly mullet), birds'

and turtles' eggs, and sea-fowl; to which would perhaps be added some

little luxury from my own stock. They only had two meals a day--one in

the morning and the other in the afternoon. Their favourite food was

turtle, of which they could eat enormous quantities, especially the fat.

Bruno was a long time before he took kindly to the new arrivals, probably

because they manifested such extraordinary emotion whenever he lifted up

his voice and barked.

I think the only thing that roused the father of the family from his

sullen moods was my extraordinary acrobatic performances, which also

threw the two little nigger boys into hysterics of delight. Father,

mother, and children tried to imitate my somersaults, "wheels," and

contortions, but came to grief so desperately (once the morose man nearly

broke his neck) that they soon gave it up. The man would sit and watch

our gambols for hours without moving a muscle. I was never actually

afraid of him, but took good care not to let him get possession of any of

my weapons; and as I had also taken the precaution to break up and throw

into the sea the spears he had brought with him on his catamaran, I felt

pretty sure he could not do much mischief even if he were so disposed.

After seeing me bring down birds with my bow and arrow he began to hold

me in absolute fear, probably because he had some idea that his own skin

might be jeopardised if he did not accommodate himself to circumstances.

I repeatedly told him that with my boat I might perhaps some day help him

to get back to his own country, and I must say that this suggestion

roused him somewhat from his lethargy, and he appeared profoundly

grateful.

Gradually I acquired a slight acquaintance with the extraordinary

language of the blacks, and had many a chat with the woman, who also

picked up a few words of comical English from me. She was a woman of

average height, lithe and supple, with an intelligent face and sparkling

eyes. She was a very interesting companion, and as I grew more

proficient in her queer language of signs, and slaps, and clicks, I

learnt from her many wonderful things about the habits and customs of the

Australian aborigines, which proved extremely useful to me in after

years. Yamba--for that was her name--told me that when I rescued them

they had been blown miles and miles out of their course and away from

their own country by the terrible gale that had been raging about a

fortnight previously. It seems that they had originally started out on

an expedition to catch turtles on a little island between Cambridge Gulf

and Queen's Channel, but the storm carried them out to sea. They drifted

about for many days, until at length they reached my little island. The

only food they had during the whole of this time was turtle, but they

were entirely without water. One would think that they must inevitably

have died of thirst, but the blacks are wonderful people for going

without water for prolonged periods. Moreover, they find a mouthful of

salt water occasionally quite sustaining.

One of my most amusing experiences with the blacks was one day when,

quite accidentally, Yamba caught sight of herself for the first time in

the little oval looking-glass I had hanging up in the hut near my

hammock. She thoughtlessly took it down and held it close up to her

face. She trembled, felt the surface of the glass, and then looked

hurriedly on the back. One long, last, lingering look she gave, and then

flew screaming out of the hut.

Oddly enough, she overcame her fears later, and, woman-like, would come

and look in the mirror for an hour at a stretch, smacking her lips all

the while in wonderment, and making most comical grimaces and contortions

to try various effects. Her husband, however (Gunda, as I called him),

was very differently affected, for the moment his wife showed him his own

reflection in the glass he gave a terrific yell and bolted to the other

end of the little island, in a state of the most abject terror. He never

quite overcame his terror and distrust of the mirror, which he evidently

considered possessed of life, and in reality a kind of spirit to be

feared and avoided.

But, of course, the two boys found the glass a never-ending source of

amazement and wonder, and were not in the least afraid of it after the

first natural shock of surprise. Altogether, I thanked God for sending

me my new companions; and, as you may suppose, they afforded me as much

entertainment and gratification as I and my belongings did them.

Every evening, before retiring to rest, the family squatted round the

fire and indulged in a mournful kind of chant--singing, as I afterwards

learnt, the wonders they had seen on the white man's island; my mirror

coming in for special mention. This was the only approach to a

"religious service" I ever saw, and was partly intended to propitiate or

frighten away the spirits of the departed, of whom the Australian blacks

have a great horror.

The blacks had been with me two or three weeks, when one evening the man

approached and intimated in unmistakable terms that he wanted to get away

from the island and return to his own land. He said he thought he and

his family could easily return to their friends on the mainland by means

of the catamaran that had brought them.

And Yamba, that devoted and mysterious creature, solemnly pointed out to

me a glowing star far away on the horizon. There, she said, lay the home

of her people. After this I was convinced that the mainland could not be

more than a couple of hundred miles or so away, and I determined to

accompany them on the journey thither, in the hope that this might form

one of the stepping-stones to civilisation and my own kind. We lost no

time. One glorious morning we three--Yamba, her husband, and

myself--repaired to the fatal lagoon that hemmed in my precious boat, and

without more ado dragged it up the steep bank by means of rollers run on

planks across the sand-spit, and then finally, with a tremendous splash

and an excited hurrah from myself, it glided out into the water, a thing

of meaning, of escape, and of freedom. The boat, notwithstanding its

long period of uselessness, was perfectly water-tight and thoroughly

seaworthy, although still unpleasantly low at the stern. Gunda was

impatient to be off, but I pointed out to him that, as the wind

persistently blew in the wrong direction day after day, we should be

compelled perforce to delay our departure perhaps for some months. You

see, Gunda was not a man who required to make much preparation: he

thought all we should have to do was to tumble into the boat and set sail

across the sunlit sea. "I can paddle my catamaran against both wind and

tide; why cannot you do the same?" he would say. He did not understand

the advantage or uses of sails. He had lost his own paddles in the

storm, otherwise he would in all probability have left the island on his

own account. He was like a fish out of water when the novelty of his

situation wore off. On the other hand, I thought of water, provisions,

and other equally vital necessaries. So Gunda had to rest content for a

time, and he grew, if possible, more morose and sullen than ever.

During this period of impatient waiting, we made many experimental

voyages out to sea, and generally got the boat into capital trim for the

great and eventful journey. I saw to it that she was thoroughly well

provisioned with tinned stuffs--long put on one side for the purpose; and

I may say here that at the last moment before starting I placed on board

three large live turtles, which supplied us with meat until we reached

the Australian main. I also took a plentiful supply of water, in bags

made from the intestines of birds and fishes; also a small cask

containing about ten gallons of the precious fluid, which was placed near

the mast. In short, as far I was able, I provided everything that was

necessary for this most important journey. But consider for a moment the

horrible doubts and fears that racked me. I _fancied_ the mainland was

not very far away, but you must remember I was not at all certain how

long it would take us to reach it; nor could I be sure, therefore,

whether I had taken a sufficient supply of food and water. Our

provisions, which included tinned meats, corn in the cob and loose,

turtles' flesh and intestines, flour, rice, beans, &c., would, however,

on a fairly liberal allowance, last a little over three weeks. We also

carried some blankets, nails, tar, and other requisites. Of my books I

only took my Bible with me. This I wrapped up in parchment made from

pelican skin, together with four photographs of a certain young lady

which I carried about with me throughout the whole of my wanderings. The

propulsive power was, of course, the big lug-sail, which was always held

loosely in the hand, and never made fast, for fear of a sudden capsize.

Six months had passed away since the advent of my visitors, when one

morning we all marched out from the hut and down to the beach; the two

boys fairly yelling with joy, and waving bunches of green corn plucked

from my garden. Their mother skipped gaily hither and thither, and I

myself was hardly able to control my transports of excitement and

exhilaration. Even Gunda beamed upon the preparations for our release. I

did not demolish my hut of pearl shells, but left it standing exactly as

it had been during the past two and a half years. Nor must I omit to

mention that I buried my treasure of pearls deep in the sand at one end

of the island, and in all human probability it is there at this moment,

for I have never returned for them, as I fondly hoped to be able to do so

at some future date. It is, of course, possible that the precious box

has been washed away in a storm, but more probably the contrary is the

case, and still deeper layers of sand have been silted over this great

treasure. I dared not carry anything oversea that was not vitally

necessary, and what good were pearls to me on my fearful journey,

convoying four other people out into the unknown in a crazy, home-made

boat? Even masses of virgin gold were of very little use to me in the

years that followed; but of this more anon. My condition, by the way, at

this time was one of robust health; indeed, I was getting quite stout

owing to the quantity of turtle I had been eating, whilst Yamba's husband

was positively corpulent from the same reason.

That glorious morning in the last week of May 1866 will ever be graven in

my memory. As I cast off from that saving but cruel shore, I thanked my

Maker for having preserved me so long and brought me through such awful

perils, as well as for the good health I had always enjoyed. As the boat

began to ripple through the inclosed waters of the lagoon, the spirits of

the four blacks rose so high that I was afraid they would capsize the

little craft in their excitement.

There was a strong, warm breeze blowing in our favour, and soon my island

home was receding swiftly from our view. The last thing to remain in

sight was the shell hut, but this, too, disappeared before we had covered

three miles. It would have been visible from a big ship at a much

greater distance, but no one would ever imagine what it really was. Yamba

sat near me in the stern, but her husband curled himself up at the

opposite end of the boat; and from the time we reached the open sea

practically until we gained the main, he did not relax his attitude of

reserve and dogged silence. He ate and drank enormously, however. You

would have thought we were in a land flowing with milk and honey, instead

of an open boat with limited provisions and an unknown journey in front

of us. He did exert himself sufficiently on one occasion, however, to

dive overboard and capture a turtle. He was sitting moodily in the prow

of the boat as usual one afternoon, when suddenly he jumped up, and with

a yell took a header overboard, almost capsizing our heavily laden boat.

At first I thought he must have gone mad, but on heaving to, I saw him

some little distance away in the water struggling with a turtle. He

managed to get it on its back after a time, and though I felt annoyed at

his recklessness, I could not help laughing at his antics and the comical

efforts made by the turtle to escape. The turtle was duly hauled aboard,

and we then continued our voyage without delay. I was dreadfully afraid

of being caught in a storm. Our boat must inevitably have foundered had

the seas been at all rough.

Fortunately never once did the wind change, so that we were able to sail

on steadily and safely night and day, without deviating in the least from

our course. We travelled fully four knots an hour, the wind and current

being nearly always in our favour. It was, however, a painfully

monotonous and trying experience to sit thus in the boat, cramped up as

we were, day after day and night after night. About the fifth day we

sighted a small island--probably Barker Island, in the vicinity of

Admiralty Gulf--and landed upon it at once solely for the purpose of

stretching our aching limbs. This little island was uninhabited, and

covered to the very water's edge with dense tropical vegetation. It was

a perfectly exhilarating experience to walk about on real earth once

more. We cooked some turtle meat and stayed a few hours on the island,

after which we entered the boat and put off on our journey again. Just

before leaving I stored a quantity of corn, cobs, seeds, &c., in a little

cairn in case we might be compelled to return. I always steered, keeping

east by north, but Yamba relieved me for a few hours each

evening--generally between six and nine o'clock, when I enjoyed a brief

but sound sleep. Gunda never offered to take a spell, and I did not

think it worth while to trouble him.

Thus night and day we sailed steadily on, occasionally sighting sharks

and even whales. We passed a great number of islands, some of them

wooded and covered with beautiful jungle growths, whilst others were

nothing but rock and sand. None of them seemed to be inhabited. The sea

was smooth all the time, but occasionally the currents carried us out of

our course among the islands, and then we had to land and wait till the

tide turned. No matter how the wind was, if the tide was not also in our

favour we had to land. We cruised in and out among the islands for ten

days or more, when we rounded Cape Londonderry and then steered S. by E.

The current, however, carried us straight for Cambridge Gulf. One little

island I sighted between Cambridge Gulf and Queen's Channel had a curious

house-like structure built in one of the trees on the coast. The trunk

of this tree was very large and tapering, and the platform arrangement

was built amongst the branches at the top, after the manner adopted by

the natives of New Guinea.

You may imagine my feelings when, early one morning, Yamba suddenly

gripped my arm and murmured, "We are nearing my home at last." I leaped

to my feet, and a few minutes afterwards the mainland came hazily into

view. Instead of heading straight for it, however, we made for a

beautiful island that stood in the mouth of a large bay, and here we

landed to recuperate for a day or so. Immediately on our arrival, Yamba

and her husband lit some fires, and made what were apparently

smoke-signals to their friends on the main. They first cut down a

quantity of green wood with my tomahawk and arranged it in the form of a

pyramid. Next they obtained fire by rubbing together two pieces of a

certain kind of wood; and as the smoke ascended we saw answering smoke-

signals from the opposite shore. The smoke was allowed to ascend in

puffs which were regulated by the manipulation of boughs. Not long after

this curious exchange of signals (and the practice is virtually universal

throughout the whole of aboriginal Australia), we saw three catamarans,

or floats, each carrying a man, shooting across towards our island. These

catamarans merely consisted of a broad plank with a stick placed

transversely at the prow, on which the black placed his feet. He

squatted down on the plank and then paddled forward. I viewed their

approach with mixed sensations of alarm and hope. I was in the power of

these people, I thought. They could tear me limb from limb, torture me,

kill and eat me, if they so pleased; I was absolutely helpless. These

fears, however, were but momentary, and back upon my mind rushed the calm

assurances I had obtained from my clear-eyed mentor, Yamba, to say

nothing about the mysterious message of hope and consolation that had

startled the solemn stillness of that tropical night. I knew these

people to be cannibals, for, during the long talks we used to have on the

island, Yamba had described to me their horrid feasts after a successful

war. Nevertheless, I awaited the arrival of the little flotilla with all

the complacency I could muster, but at the same time I was careful to let

Yamba's husband be the first to receive them.

And he advanced to meet them. The newcomers, having landed, squatted

down some little distance away from the man they had come to meet, and

then Gunda and they gradually edged forwards towards one another, until

at length each placed his nose upon the other's shoulder. This was

apparently the native method of embracing. Later Gunda brought his

friends to be introduced to me, and to the best of my ability I went

through the same ridiculous ceremony. I must say my new friends evinced

an almost uncontrollable terror at the sight of me. Gunda, however, made

it clear that I was _not_ a returned spirit, but a man like themselves--a

great man certainly, and a mysterious man, but a man all the same.

Although by this time my skin had become tanned and dark, there was

seemingly no end to the amazement it caused the blacks. They timidly

touched and felt my body, legs, and arms, and were vastly anxious to know

what the covering was I had round my body. In due time, however, the

excitement subsided somewhat, and then the newcomers prepared more smoke-

signals to their friends on the mainland--this time building five

separate fires in the form of a circle.

It was interesting to watch this remarkable method of communication. Each

fire was set smoking fiercely a few seconds after its neighbour had

started. Finally, the columns of smoke united, and ascended together in

the form of a huge pyramid, going up a tremendous height into the still,

hot air. The meaning of these signals was explained to me. They

indicated to the people on the mainland that the advance guard had found

Gunda and his family; that they had a great man with them; and that,

furthermore, they might expect us to return all together almost

immediately. By this time, thanks to Yamba's able and intelligent

lessons, I was able to speak the queer language of the blacks with some

show of fluency, and I could understand them well enough when they did

not jabber too quickly.

The next phase of our arrival was that "smokes" were ascending in all

directions on the mainland, evidently calling the tribes from far and

near. How these smoke-signals gave an idea of the white man and his

wonders I am utterly at a loss to imagine. In the meantime Yamba had

prepared a great feast for the visitors, the principal dish being our

remaining big turtle, of which the blacks ate a prodigious quantity. I

afterwards told them that I was in need of a prolonged rest, my long

journey having wearied me, and after this explanation I retired, and

slung my hammock in a shady nook, where I slept undisturbed from shortly

before noon until late in the day, when my ever-faithful Yamba, who had

been keeping a careful watch, woke me and said that the festivities prior

to our departure were about to take place.

Much refreshed, I rejoined the blacks, and, to their unbounded delight

and amazement, entertained them for a few minutes with some of my

acrobatic tricks and contortions. Some of the more emulous among them

tried to imitate my feats of agility, but always came dismally to grief--a

performance that created even more frantic merriment than my own. After

a little while the blacks disappeared, only to come forth a few minutes

later with their bodies gorgeously decorated with stripes of yellow ochre

and red and white pigments. These startling preparations preceded a

great _corroboree_ in honour of my arrival, and in this embarrassing

function I was, of course, expected to join. The ceremony was kept up

with extraordinary vigour the whole night long, but all I was required to

do was to sit beating sticks together, and join in the general uproar.

This was all very well for a little while, but the monotony of the affair

was terrible, and I withdrew to my hammock before midnight.

In the morning I saw a great fleet of catamarans putting off from the

mainland, and in a very short time between fifty and sixty natives joined

our party on the island. Then followed the usual greetings and comical

expressions of amazement--of course, at the sight of me, my boat, and

everything in it. A few hours later the whole crowd left the island, led

by me in the big boat--which, by the way, attracted as much interest as I

did myself. The natives forced their catamarans through the water at

great speed, using only one paddle, which was dipped first on one side

and then on the other in rapid succession, without, however, causing the

apparently frail craft to swerve in the slightest degree.

As we approached the new country, I beheld a vast surging crowd of

excited blacks--men, women, and children, all perfectly naked--standing

on the beach. The moment we landed there was a most extraordinary rush

for my boat, and everything on board her was there and then subjected to

the closest scrutiny.

The people seemed to be divided into clans, and when one clan was busy

inspecting my implements and utensils, another was patiently waiting its

turn to examine the white man's wonders. I sat in the boat for some

time, fairly bewildered and deafened by the uproarious jabberings and

shrill, excited cries of amazement and wonder that filled the air all

round me. At last, however, the blacks who had come out to meet us on

the island came to my rescue, and escorted me through the crowd, with

visible pride, to an eminence overlooking the native camping-ground. I

then learnt that the news of my coming had been smoke-signalled in every

direction for many miles; hence the enormous gathering of clans on the

beach.

The camping-ground I now found myself upon consisted of about thirty

primitive shelters, built of boughs in the most flimsy manner, and only

intended to break the force of the wind. These shelters, or

"break-winds," were crescent-shaped, had ho roof, and were not in any way

closed in in front. There were, however, two or three grass huts of

beehive shape, about seven feet high and ten feet in diameter, with a

queer little hole at the base through which the occupier had to crawl.

The inside was perfectly dark.

I was told I could have either a break-wind of boughs or a beehive hut,

and on consideration I chose the latter. It would, I reflected, ensure

something approaching privacy. My indefatigable Yamba and a few of her

women friends set to work then and there, and positively in less than an

hour the grass hut was ready for occupation! I did not, however, stay to

witness the completion of the building operations, but went off with some

self-appointed cicerones to see the different camps; everywhere I was

received with the greatest enthusiasm and manifestations of respect and

friendship. My simple loin-cloth of crimson Japanese silk occasioned

much astonishment among the blacks, but curiously enough the men were far

more astonished at my _footprints_ than any other attribute I possessed.

It seems that when they themselves walk they turn their feet sideways, so

that they only make a half impression, so to speak, instead of a full

footprint. On the other hand, I of course planted my feet squarely down,

and this imprint in the sand was followed by a crowd of blacks, who

gravely peered at every footprint, slapping themselves and clicking in

amazement at the wonderful thing!

CHAPTER V

Some queer dishes--Water wizards--A mysterious deputation--I protest

against cannibalism--My marriage ceremony--A startling proposition--Daily

routine--A diet of worms--I proceed cautiously--The cannibal poet sells

his wares--Fishing extraordinary--How emus were caught--Eternal fires--A

coming horror--The first cannibal feast.

I saw very little of Gunda from the moment of landing. I feel sure that

the fact of his having seen so much of the world, and travelled such a

long distance--to say nothing about bringing back so wonderful a creature

as myself--had rendered him a very great man indeed in the estimation of

his friends; and in consequence of this so much honour was paid him that

he became puffed up with pride, and neglected his faithful wife.

Everywhere I went the natives were absolutely overwhelming in their

hospitality, and presents of food of all kinds were fairly showered upon

me, including such delicacies as kangaroo and opossum meat, rats, snakes,

tree-worms, fish, &c., which were always left outside my hut. Baked

snake, I ought to mention, was a very pleasant dish indeed, but as there

was no salt forthcoming, and the flesh was very tasteless, I cannot say I

enjoyed this particular native dainty. The snakes were invariably baked

whole in their skins, and the meat was very tender and juicy, though a

little insipid as to flavour. The native method of cooking is to scoop

out a hole in the sand with the hands, and then place the article to be

cooked at the bottom. Some loose stones would then be thrown over the

"joint." Next would come a layer of sand, and the fire was built on the

top of all. Rats were always plentiful--often so much so as to become a

serious nuisance. They were of the large brown variety, and were not at

all bad eating. I may say here that the women-folk were responsible for

the catching of the rats, the method usually adopted being to poke in

their holes with sticks, and then kill them as they rushed out. The

women, by the way, were responsible for a good many things. They were

their masters' dressers, so to speak, in that they were required to carry

supplies of the greasy clay or earth with which the blacks anoint their

bodies to ward off the sun's rays and insect bites; and beside this, woe

betide the wives if _corroboree_ time found them without an ample supply

of coloured pigments for the decoration of their masters' bodies. One of

the principal duties of the women-folk, however, was the provision of

roots for the family's dinner. The most important among these

necessaries--besides fine yams--were the root and bud of a kind of water-

lily, which when roasted tasted not unlike a sweet potato.

There was usually a good water supply in the neighbourhood of these

camps, and if it failed (as it very frequently did), the whole tribe

simply moved its quarters elsewhere--perhaps a hundred miles off.

The instinct of these people for finding water, however, was nothing

short of miraculous. No one would think of going down to the seashore to

look for fresh water, yet they often showed me the purest and most

refreshing of liquids oozing up out of the sand on the beach after the

tide had receded.

All this time, and for many months afterwards, my boat and everything it

contained were saved from molestation and theft by a curious device on

the part of Yamba. She simply placed a couple of crossed sticks on the

sand near the bows, this being evidently a kind of Masonic sign to all

beholders that they were to respect the property of the stranger among

them; and I verily believe that the boat and its contents might have

remained there until they fell to pieces before any one of those cannibal

blacks would have dreamed of touching anything that belonged to me.

After a time the natives began pointedly to suggest that I should stay

with them. They had probably heard from Yamba about the strange things I

possessed, and the occult powers I was supposed to be gifted with. A day

or two after my landing, a curious thing happened--nothing more or less

than the celebration of my marriage! I was standing near my boat, still

full of thoughts of escape, when two magnificent naked chiefs, decked

with gaudy pigments and feather head-dresses, advanced towards me,

leading between them a young, dusky maiden of comparatively pleasing

appearance.

The three were followed by an immense crowd of natives, and were within a

few feet of me, when they halted suddenly. One of the chiefs then

stepped out and offered me a murderous-looking club, with a big knob at

one end, which ugly weapon was known as a "waddy." As he presented this

club the chief made signs that I was to knock the maiden on the head with

it. Now, on this I confess I was struck with horror and dismay at my

position, for, instantly recalling what Yamba had told me, I concluded

_that a cannibal feast was about to be given in my honour_, and

that--worst horror of all--I might have to lead off with the first

mouthful of that smiling girl. Of course, I reflected they had brought

the helpless victim to me, the distinguished stranger, to kill with my

own hands. At that critical moment, however, I resolved to be absolutely

firm, even if it cost me my life.

While I hesitated, the chief remained absolutely motionless, holding out

the murderous-looking club, and looking at me interrogatively, as though

unable to understand why I did not avail myself of his offer. Still more

extraordinary, the crowd behind observed a solemn and disconcerting

silence. I looked at the girl; to my amazement she appeared delighted

with things generally--a poor, merry little creature, not more than

fifteen or sixteen years of age. I decided to harangue the chiefs, and

as a preliminary I gave them the universal sign to sit down and parley.

They did so, but did not seem pleased at what they doubtless considered

an unlooked-for hitch in an interesting ceremony.

Then in hesitating signs, slaps, clicks, and guttural utterances, I gave

them to understand that it was against my faith to have anything whatever

to do with the horrid orgy they contemplated. The Great Spirit they

dreaded so much yet so vaguely, I went on to say, had revealed to me that

it was wrong to kill any one in cold blood, and still more loathsome and

horrible to eat the flesh of a murdered fellow-creature. I was very much

in earnest, and I waited with nervous trepidation to see the effect of my

peroration. Under the circumstances, you may judge of my astonishment

when not only the chiefs, but the whole "nation" assembled, suddenly

burst into roars of eerie laughter.

Then came Yamba to the rescue. Ah! noble and devoted creature! The bare

mention of her name stirs every fibre of my being with love and wonder.

Greater love than hers no creature ever knew, and not once but a thousand

times did she save my wretched life at the risk of her own.

Well, Yamba, I say, came up and whispered to me. She had been studying

my face quietly and eagerly, and had gradually come to see what was

passing in my mind. She whispered that the chiefs, far from desiring me

to kill the girl for a cannibal feast, were _offering her to me as a

wife_, and that I was merely expected to tap her on the head with the

stick, in token of her subjection to her new spouse! In short, this blow

on the head was the legal marriage ceremony _tout simple_. I maintained

my dignity as far as possible, and proceeded to carry out my part of the

curious ceremony.

I tapped the bright-eyed girl on the head, and she immediately fell

prostrate at my feet, in token of her wifely submission. I then raised

her up gently, and all the people came dancing round us, uttering weird

cries of satisfaction and delight. Oddly enough, Yamba, far from

manifesting any jealousy, seemed to take as much interest as any one in

the proceedings, and after everything was over she led my new wife away

to the little "humpy," or hut, that had been built for me by the women.

That night an indescribably weird _corroboree_ was held in my honour, and

I thought it advisable, since so much was being made of me, to remain

there all night and acknowledge the impromptu songs that were composed

and sung in my honour by the native bards. I am afraid I felt utterly

lost without Yamba, who was, in the most literal sense, my right hand.

By this time she could speak a little English, and was so marvellously

intelligent that she seemed to discover things by sheer intuition or

instinct. I think she never let a day go by without favourably

impressing the chiefs concerning me, my prowess and my powers; and

without her help I simply could not have lived through the long and weary

years, nor should I ever have returned to civilisation.

The very next day after my "marriage," having been still further

enlightened as to the manners and customs of the natives, I waited upon

Gunda, and calmly made to him the proposition that we should exchange

wives. This suggestion he received with a kind of subdued satisfaction,

or holy joy, and very few further negotiations were needed to make the

transaction complete; and, be it said, it was an every-day transaction,

perfectly legal and recognised by all the clans. Yamba was full of

vigour and resource, while the only phrase that fitly describes her bush

lore is absolutely miraculous. This will be evinced in a hundred

extraordinary instances in this narrative.

But you may be asking, What of my dog, Bruno? Well, I am thankful to

say, he was still with me, but it took him a long time to accustom

himself to his new surroundings; he particularly objected to associating

with the miserable pariah curs that prowled about the encampment. They

would take sly bites out of him when he was not looking, but on the

whole, he was well able to hold his own, being much more powerful than

they.

I settled down to my new life in the course of a few days, but I need

hardly remark I did not propose staying in that forlorn spot longer than

I could help. This was my plan. I would, first of all, make myself

acquainted with the habits and customs of the blacks, and pick up as much

bushmanship and knowledge of the country as it was possible to acquire,

in case I should have to travel inland in search of civilisation instead

of oversea. I knew that it would be folly on my part to attempt to leave

those hospitable regions without knowing more of the geography of the

country and its people. There was always, however, the hope that some

day I might be able either to get away by sea in my boat, or else hail

some passing vessel. The blacks told me they had seen many pass at a

distance.

Every morning I was astir by sunrise, and--hope springing eternal--at

once searched for the faintest indication of a passing sail. Next I

would bathe in a lagoon protected from sharks, drying myself by a run on

the beach. Meanwhile Yamba would have gone out searching for roots for

breakfast, and she seldom returned without a supply of my favourite water-

lily buds already mentioned. Often, in the years that followed, did that

heroic creature _tramp on foot a hundred miles_ to get me a few sprigs of

saline herbs. She had heard me say I wanted salt, which commodity,

strange to say, was never used by the natives; and even when I gave them

some as an experiment they did not seem to care about it. She would also

bring in, by way of seasoning, a kind of small onion, known as the

_nelga_, which, when roasted, made a very acceptable addition to our

limited fare. The natives themselves had but two meals a day--breakfast,

between eight and nine o'clock, and then an enormous feast in the late

afternoon. Their ordinary food consisted of kangaroo, emu, snakes, rats,

and fish; an especial dainty being a worm found in the black ava tree, or

in any decaying trunk.

These worms were generally grilled on hot stones, and eaten several at a

time like small whitebait. I often ate them myself, and found them most

palatable. After breakfast the women of the tribe would go out hunting

roots and snaring small game for the afternoon meal, while the men went

off on their war and hunting expeditions, or amused themselves with feats

of arms. The children were generally left to their own devices in the

camp, and the principal amusement of the boys appeared to be the hurling

of reed spears at one another. The women brought home the roots (which

they dug up with yam sticks, generally about four feet long) in nets made

out of the stringy parts of the grass tree; stringy bark, or strong

pliable reeds, slung on their all-enduring backs. They generally

returned heavily laden between two and three in the afternoon. I always

knew the time pretty accurately by the sun, but I lost count of the days.

The months, however, I always reckoned by the moon, and for each year I

made a notch on the inside of my bow.

My own food was usually wrapped in palm leaves before being placed in the

sand oven. Of course the leaves always burned, but they kept the meat

free from sand; and my indefatigable wife was always exercising her

ingenuity to provide me with fresh dainties. In addition to the ordinary

fare of the natives, I frequently had wild ducks and turkeys, and--what

was perhaps the greatest luxury of all--eggs, which the natives sent for

specially on my account to distant parts of the surrounding country, and

also to the islands of the coast where white cockatoos reared their young

in rocky cliffs.

At the time of my shipwreck I had little or no knowledge of Australian

geography, so that I was utterly at a loss as to my position. I

afterwards learnt, however, that Yamba's home was on Cambridge Gulf, on

the NNW. coast of the Australian continent, and that the central point of

our camping ground at this time was near the mouth of the Victoria River,

which flows into Queen's Channel.

Almost every evening the blacks would hold a stately _corroboree_,

singing and chanting; the burden of their song being almost invariably

myself, my belongings, and my prowess--which latter, I fear, was

magnified in the most extravagant manner. Besides the _corroboree_ they

also would assemble for what might not inaptly be termed evening prayers,

which consisted of a poetical recital of the events of the day. I ought

to mention that at first I did not accompany the men on their excursions

abroad, because I was far from perfect in their language; and

furthermore, I was not skilled in hunting or in bush lore. Therefore,

fearful of exciting ridicule, I decided to remain behind in the camp

until I was thoroughly grounded in everything there was to be learned.

Supposing, for example, I had gone out with the blacks, and had to

confess myself tired after tramping several miles. Well, this kind of

thing would certainly have engendered contempt; and once the mysterious

white stranger was found to be full of the frailties of the ordinary man,

his prestige would be gone, and then life would probably become

intolerable.

Thus everything I did I had to excel in, and it was absolutely necessary

that I should be perpetually "astonishing the natives," in the most

literal sense of the phrase. Accordingly, for the next few weeks, I used

to accompany the women on their root-hunting and rat-catching

expeditions, and from them I picked up much valuable information.

The _corroboree_ was, perhaps, the greatest institution known to the

blacks, who, obliged to do no real work, as we understand it, simply had

to pass the time somehow; and there can be no doubt that, were it not for

the constant feuds and consequent incessant wars, the race would greatly

deteriorate. The _corroboree_ after a successful battle commenced with a

cannibal feast off the bodies of fallen foes, and it would be kept up for

several days on end, the braves lying down to sleep near the fire towards

morning, and renewing the festivities about noon next day. The chiefs on

these occasions decked themselves with gorgeous cockatoo feathers, and

painted their bodies with red and yellow ochre and other glaring

pigments, each tribe having its own distinguishing marks. A couple of

hours were generally spent in dressing and preparing for the ceremony,

and then the gaily-decorated fighting-men would dance or squat round the

fires and chant monotonous songs, telling of all their own achievements

and valour, and the extraordinary sights they had seen in their travels.

The words of the songs were usually composed by the clan's own poet, who

made a living solely by his profession, and even sold his effusions to

other tribes. As there was no written language the purchaser would

simply be coached orally by the vendor poet; and as the blacks were

gifted with most marvellous memories, they would transmit and resell the

songs throughout vast stretches of country. These men of the north-west

were of magnificent stature, and possessed great personal strength. They

were able to walk extraordinary distances, and their carriage was the

most graceful I have ever seen. Many of them were over six feet high,

well made in proportion and with high broad foreheads--altogether a very

different race from the inhabitants of Central Australia. One of their

favourite tests of strength was to take a short stick of very hard wood

and bend it in their hands, using the thumbs as levers, till it snapped.

Strange to say, I failed to bend the stick more than a quarter of an

inch. The women are not very prepossessing, and not nearly so graceful

in their bearing and gait as the men. Poor creatures! they did all the

hard work of the camp-building, food-hunting, waiting, and serving.

Occasionally, however, the men did condescend to go out fishing, and they

would also organise _battues_ when a big supply of food was wanted. These

great hunting-parties, by the way, were arranged on an immense scale, and

fire figured largely in them. The usual routine was to set fire to the

bush, and then as the terrified animals and reptiles rushed out in

thousands into the open, each party of blacks speared every living thing

that came its way within a certain sphere. The roar of the

fast-spreading fire, the thousands of kangaroos, opossums, rats, snakes,

iguanas, and birds that dashed hither and thither, to the accompaniment

of bewildering shouts from the men and shrill screeches from the women,

who occasionally assisted, flitting hither and thither like eerie witches

amidst the dense pall of black smoke--all these made up a picture which

is indelibly imprinted on my mind.

As a rule, hosts of hawks and eagles are to be seen flying over the black

man's camp, but on the occasion of a bush fire they follow its train,

well knowing that they will obtain prey in abundance. With regard to the

fishing parties, these went out either early in the morning, soon after

sunrise, or in the evening, when it was quite dark. On the latter

occasions, the men carried big torches, which they held high in the air

with one hand, while they waded out into the water with their spears

poised, in readiness to impale the first big fish they came across.

When the spearmen _did_ strike, their aim was unerring, and the

struggling fish would be hurled on to the beach to the patient

women-folk, who were there waiting for them, with their big nets of grass

slung over their backs. Sometimes a hundred men would be in the shallow

water at once, all carrying blazing torches, and the effect as the

fishermen plunged and splashed this way and that, with shouts of triumph

or disappointment, may be better imagined than described. In the daytime

a rather different method was adopted. Some acres of the shallow lagoon

would be staked out at low water in the shape of an inverted V, an

opening being left for the fish to pass through.

The high tide brought the fish in vast shoals, and then the opening would

be closed. When the tide receded, the staked enclosure became, in

effect, a gigantic net, filled with floundering fish, big and little. The

natives then waded into the inclosure, and leisurely despatched the fish

with their spears.

Nothing was more interesting than to watch one of these children of the

bush stalking a kangaroo. The man made not the slightest noise in

walking, and he would stealthily follow the kangaroo's track for miles

(the tracks were absolutely invisible to the uninitiated). Should at

length the kangaroo sniff a tainted wind, or be startled by an incautious

movement, his pursuer would suddenly become as rigid as a bronze figure,

and he could remain in this position for hours. Finally, when within

thirty or forty yards of the animal, he launched his spear, and in all

the years I was among these people I never knew a man to miss his aim.

Two distinct kinds of spears were used by the natives, one for hunting

and the other for war purposes. The former averaged from eight to ten

feet, whilst the latter varied from ten to fourteen feet in length; the

blade in each case, however, consisting either of bone or stone, with a

shaft of some light hard wood. Metals were, of course, perfectly unknown

as workable materials. The war-spear was not hurled javelin-fashion like

the hunting-spear, but propelled by means of a wommerah, which, in

reality, was a kind of sling, perhaps twenty-four inches long, with a

hook at one end to fix on the shaft of the spear. In camp the men mainly

occupied their time in making spears and mending their weapons. They

hacked a tree down and split it into long sections by means of wedges, in

order to get suitable wood for their spear-shafts.

To catch emus the hunters would construct little shelters of grass at a

spot overlooking the water-hole frequented by these birds, and they were

then speared as they came down for water. The largest emu I ever saw, by

the way, was more than six feet high, whilst the biggest kangaroo I came

across was even taller than this. Snakes were always killed with sticks,

whilst birds were brought down with the wonderful boomerang.

As a rule, only sufficient food was obtained to last from day to day; but

on the occasion of one of the big _battues_ I have described there would

be food in abundance for a week or more, when there would be a horrid

orgy of gorging and one long continuous _corroboree_, until supplies gave

out.

The sport which I myself took up was dugong hunting; for I ought to have

mentioned that I brought a harpoon with me in the boat, and this most

useful article attracted as much attention as anything I had. The

natives would occasionally put their hands on my tomahawk or harpoon, and

never ceased to wonder why the metal was so cold.

Whenever I went out after dugong, accompanied by Yamba (she was ever with

me), the blacks invariably came down in crowds to watch the operation

from the beach.

But, you will ask, what did I want with dugong, when I had so much other

food at hand? Well my idea was to lay in a great store of dried

provisions against the time when I should be ready to start for

civilisation in my boat. I built a special shed of boughs, in which I

conducted my curing operations; my own living-place being only a few

yards away. It was built quite in European fashion, with a sloping roof.

The interior was perhaps twenty feet square and ten feet high, with a

small porch in which my fire was kept constantly burning. When we had

captured a dugong the blacks would come rushing into the sea to meet us

and drag our craft ashore, delighted at the prospect of a great feast.

The only part of the dugong I preserved was the belly, which I cut up

into strips and dried.

The blacks never allowed their fires to go out, and whenever they moved

their camping-ground, the women-folk always took with them their

smouldering fire-sticks, with which they can kindle a blaze in a few

minutes. Very rarely, indeed, did the women allow their fire-sticks to

go out altogether, for this would entail a cruel and severe punishment. A

fire-stick would keep alight in a smouldering state for days. All that

the women did when they wanted to make it glow was to whirl it round in

the air. The wives bore ill-usage with the most extraordinary

equanimity, and never attempted to parry even the most savage blow. They

would remain meek and motionless under a shower of brutal blows from a

thick stick, and would then walk quietly away and treat their bleeding

wounds with a kind of earth. No matter how cruelly the women might be

treated by their husbands, they hated sympathy, so their women friends

always left them alone. It often surprised me how quickly the blacks'

most terrible wounds healed; and yet they were only treated with a kind

of clay and leaves of the wild rose.

I am here reminded of the native doctor. This functionary was called a

_rui_, and he effected most of his cures with a little shell, with which

he rubbed assiduously upon the affected part. Thus it will be seen that

the medical treatment was a form of massage, the rubbing being done first

in a downward direction and then crosswise. I must say, however, that

the blacks were very rarely troubled with illness, their most frequent

disorder being usually the result of excessive gorging when a

particularly ample supply of food was forthcoming--say, after a big

_battue_ over a tribal preserve.

In an ordinary case of overfeeding, the medicine man would rub his

patient's stomach with such vigour as often to draw blood. He would also

give the sufferer a kind of grass to eat, and this herb, besides clearing

the system, also acted as a most marvellous appetiser. The capacity of

some of my blacks was almost beyond belief. One giant I have in my mind

ate a whole kangaroo by himself. I saw him do it. Certainly it was not

an excessively big animal, but, still, it was a meal large enough for

three or four stalwart men.

In a case of fever the natives resorted to charms to drive away the evil

spirit that was supposed to be troubling the patient. The universal

superstition about all maladies is that they are caused by the "evil

eye," directed against the sufferer by some enemy. Should one member of

a tribe be stricken down with a disease, his friends at once come to the

conclusion that he has been "pointed at" by a member of another tribe who

owed him a grudge; he has, in short, been bewitched, and an expedition is

promptly organised to seek out and punish the individual in question and

all his tribe. From this it is obvious that war is of pretty frequent

occurrence. And not only so, but every death is likewise the signal for

a tribal war. There is no verdict of "Death from natural causes."

Punitive expeditions are not organised in the event of slight fevers or

even serious illness--only when the patient dies. A tribe I once came

across some miles inland were visited by a plague of what I now feel sure

must have been smallpox. The disease, they said, had been brought down

from the coast, and although numbers of the blacks died, war was not

declared against any particular tribe. As a rule, the body of the dead

brave is placed upon a platform erected in the forks of trees, and his

weapons neatly arranged below. Then, as decay set in, and the body began

to crumble away, the friends and chiefs would come and observe certain

mystic signs, which were supposed to give information as to what tribe or

individual had caused the death of the deceased.

It must have been within a month of my landing on Yamba's country, in

Cambridge Gulf, that I witnessed my first cannibal feast. One of the

fighting-men had died in our camp, and after the usual observations had

been taken, it was decided that he had been pointed at, and his death

brought about, by a member of another tribe living some distance away. An

expedition of some hundreds of warriors was at once fitted out. The

enemy was apparently only too ready for the fray, because the armies

promptly met in an open plain, and I had an opportunity of witnessing the

extraordinary method by which the Australian blacks wage war. One of the

most redoubtable of our chiefs stepped forward, and explained the reason

of his people's visit in comparatively calm tones. An opposing chief

replied to him, and gradually a heated altercation arose, the abuse

rising on a crescendo scale for ten or fifteen minutes. These two then

retired, and another couple of champion abusers stepped forward to

"discuss" the matter. This kind of thing went on for a considerable

time, the abuse being of the most appalling description, and directed

mainly against the organs of the enemy's body (heart, liver, &c.), his

ancestors, "his ox, his ass, and everything that was his." At length,

when every conceivable thing had been said that it was possible to say,

the warriors drew near, and at last some one threw a spear. This, of

course, was the signal for real action, and in a few minutes the

engagement became general. There was no strategy or tactics of any kind,

every man fighting single-handed.

But to return to the battle I was describing. After a very few minutes'

fighting the enemy were utterly routed, and promptly turned tail and fled

from the scene of the encounter, leaving behind them--after all the

uproar and the flood of vilification--only three of their warriors, and

these not dead, but only more or less badly wounded. Quarter being

neither given nor expected in these battles, the three prostrate blacks

were promptly despatched by the leader of my tribe, the _coup de grace_

being given with a waddy, or knobbed stick. The three bodies were then

placed on litters made out of spears and grass, and in due time carried

into our own camp.

There were so many unmistakable signs to presage what was coming that I

_knew_ a cannibal feast was about to take place. But for obvious reasons

I did not protest against it, nor did I take any notice whatever. The

women (who do all the real work) fell on their knees, and with their

fingers scraped three long trenches in the sand, each about seven feet

long and three deep. Into each of these ovens was placed one of the

bodies of the fallen warriors, and then the trench was filled up--firstly

with stones, and then with sand. On top of all a huge fire was built,

and maintained with great fierceness for about two hours. There was

great rejoicing during this period of cooking, and apparently much

pleasurable anticipation among the triumphant blacks. In due time the

signal was given, and the ovens laid open once more. I looked in and saw

that the bodies were very much burnt. The skin was cracked in places and

liquid fat was issuing forth. . . . But, perhaps, the less said about

this horrible spectacle the better. With a yell, several warriors leaped

into each trench and stuck spears through the big "joints." And the

moment the roasted carcasses were taken out of the trenches the whole

tribe literally fell upon them and tore them limb from limb. I saw

mothers with a leg or an arm surrounded by plaintive children, who were

crying for their portion of the fearsome dainty.

Others, who were considered to have taken more than their share, were

likewise fallen upon and their "joint" subdivided and hacked to pieces

with knives made from shells. The bodies were not cooked all through, so

that the condition of some of the revellers, both during and after the

orgy, may best be left to the imagination. A more appalling, more

ghastly, or more truly sickening spectacle it is impossible for the mind

of man to conceive. A great _corroboree_ was held after the feast, but,

with my gorge rising and my brain reeling, I crept to my own humpy and

tried to shut out from my mind the shocking inferno I had just been

compelled to witness.

But let us leave so fearful a subject and consider something more

interesting and amusing.

CHAPTER VI

A weird duel--The tragedy of the baby whale--My boat is destroyed--A ten

miles' swim--Gigantic prizes--Swimming in the whale's head--I make use of

the visitors--A fight with an alligator--The old craving--Bitter

disappointment--My mysterious "flying spears"--Dog-like fidelity--I

present my "card"--The desert of red sand.

The women of the tribe lived amicably enough together as a rule, but of

course they had their differences. They would quarrel about the merits

and demerits of their own families and countries; but the greatest source

of heartburning and trouble was the importation of a new wife--especially

if she chanced to be better looking than the others. In such cases, woe

to the comparatively pretty wife. The women certainly had a novel way of

settling their differences. The two combatants would retire to some

little distance, armed with _one stick between them_. They would then

stand face to face, and one would bend forward meekly, whilst the other

dealt her a truly terrific blow between the shoulders or on the head--not

with a cane or a light stick, be it remembered, but a really formidable

club. The blow (which would be enough to kill an ordinary white woman)

would be borne with wonderful fortitude, and then the aggressor would

hand the club to the woman she had just struck.

The latter would then take a turn; and so it would go on, turn and turn

about, until one of the unfortunate, stoical creatures fell bleeding and

half-senseless to the earth. The thing was magnificently simple. The

woman who kept her senses longest, and remained on her legs to the end,

was the victor. There was no kind of ill-feeling after these

extraordinary combats, and the women would even dress one another's

wounds.

I now come to an event of very great importance in my life. Elsewhere I

have spoken of my _penchant_ for dugong hunting. Well, one day this

sport effectually put an end to all my prospects of reaching civilisation

across the sea. I went forth one morning, accompanied by my

ever-faithful Yamba and the usual admiring crowd of blacks. In a few

minutes we two were speeding over the sunlit waters, my only weapon being

the steel harpoon I had brought with me from the island, and about forty

or fifty feet of manilla rope. When we were some miles from land I

noticed a dark-looking object on the surface of the water a little way

ahead. Feeling certain it was a dugong feeding on the well-known

"grass," I rose and hurled my harpoon at it with all the force I could

muster. Next moment, to my amazement, the head of a calf whale was

thrust agonisingly into the air, and not until then did I realise what

manner of creature it was I had struck. This baby whale was about

fifteen feet long, and it "sounded" immediately on receiving my harpoon.

As I had enough rope, or what I considered enough, I did not cut him

adrift. He came up again presently, lashing the water with his tail, and

creating a tremendous uproar, considering his size. He then darted off

madly, dashing through the water like an arrow, and dragging our boat at

such a tremendous pace as almost to swamp us in the foaming wash, the bow

wave forming a kind of wall on each side.

Up to this time I had no thought of danger, but just as the baby whale

halted I looked round, and saw to my horror that its colossal mother had

joined her offspring, and was swimming round and round it like lightning,

apparently greatly disturbed by its sufferings. Before I could even cut

the line or attempt to get out of the way, the enormous creature caught

sight of our little craft, and bore down upon us like a fair-sized island

rushing through the sea with the speed of an express train. I shouted to

Yamba, and we both threw ourselves over the side into the now raging

waters, and commenced to swim away with long strokes, in order to get as

far as possible from the boat before the catastrophe came which we knew

was at hand. We had not got many yards before I heard a terrific crash,

and, looking back, I saw the enormous tail of the great whale towering

high out of the water, and my precious boat descending in fragments upon

it from a height of from fifteen feet to twenty feet above the agitated

waters. Oddly enough, the fore-part of the boat remained fixed to the

rope of the harpoon in the calf. My first thought, even at so terrible a

moment, and in so serious a situation, was one of bitter regret for the

loss of what I considered the only means of reaching civilisation. Like

a flash it came back to me how many weary months of toil and hope and

expectancy I had spent over that darling craft; and I remembered, too,

the delirious joy of launching it, and the appalling dismay that struck

me when I realised that it was worse than useless to me in the inclosed

lagoon. These thoughts passed through my mind in a few seconds.

At this time we had a swim of some _ten miles_ before us, but fortunately

our predicament was observed from the land, and a crowd of blacks put out

in their catamarans to help us. Some of the blacks, as I hinted before,

always accompanied me down to the shore on these trips. They never

tired, I think, of seeing me handle my giant "catamaran" and the (to

them) mysterious harpoon.

After the mother whale had wreaked its vengeance upon my unfortunate boat

it rejoined its little one, and still continued to swim round and round

it at prodigious speed, evidently in a perfect agony of concern.

Fortunately the tide was in our favour, and we were rapidly swept

inshore, even when we floated listlessly on the surface of the water. The

sea was quite calm, and we had no fear of sharks, being well aware that

we would keep them away by splashing in the water.

Before long, the catamarans came up with us, but although deeply grateful

for Yamba's and my own safety, I was still greatly distressed at the loss

of my boat. Never once did this thought leave my mind. I remembered,

too, with a pang, that I had now no tools with which to build another;

and to venture out into the open sea on a catamaran, probably for weeks,

simply meant courting certain destruction. I was a greater prisoner than

ever.

My harpoon had evidently inflicted a mortal wound on the calf whale,

because as we looked we saw it lying exhausted on the surface of the

water, and being gradually swept nearer and nearer the shore by the swift-

flowing tide. The mother refused to leave her little one however, and

still continued to wheel round it continuously, even when it had reached

dangerously shallow water.

The result was that when the tide turned, both the mother and her calf

were left stranded high and dry on the beach, to the unbounded delight

and amazement of the natives, who swarmed round the leviathans, and set

up such a terrific uproar, that I verily believe they frightened the

mother to death. In her dying struggle she lashed the water into a

perfect fury with her tail, and even made attempts to lift herself bodily

up. Furious smoke-signals were at once sent up to summon all the tribes

in the surrounding country--enemies as well as friends. Next day the

carcasses were washed farther still inshore--a thing for which the blacks

gave me additional credit.

I ought to mention here that the loss of my boat was in some measure

compensated for by the enormous amount of prestige which accrued to me

through this whale episode. To cut a long story short, the natives fully

believed that _I had killed single-handed and brought ashore both

whales_! And in the _corroborees_ that ensued, the poets almost went

delirious in trying to find suitable eulogiums to bestow upon the mighty

white hunter. The mother whale surpassed in size any I had ever seen or

read about. I measured her length by pacing, and I judged it to be

nearly 150 feet. My measurements may not have been absolutely accurate,

but still the whale was, I imagine, of record size. As she lay there on

the beach her head towered above me to a height of nearly fifteen feet.

Never can I forget the scene that followed, when the blacks from the

surrounding country responded to the smoke-signals announcing the capture

of the "great fish." From hundreds of miles south came the natives,

literally in their thousands--every man provided with his stone tomahawk

and a whole armoury of shell knives. They simply swarmed over the

carcasses like vermin, and I saw many of them staggering away under solid

lumps of flesh weighing between thirty and forty pounds. The children

also took part in the general feasting, and they too swarmed about the

whales like a plague of ants.

A particularly enterprising party of blacks cut an enormous hole in the

head of the big whale, and in the bath of oil that was inside they simply

wallowed for hours at a time, only to emerge in a condition that filled

me with disgust. There was no question of priority or disputing as to

whom the tit-bits of the whale should go. Even the visitors were quite

at liberty to take whatever portion they could secure. For about a

fortnight this cutting-up and gorging went on, but long before this the

stench from the decomposing carcasses was so horrible as to be painfully

noticeable at my camp, over a mile away. Some of the flesh was cooked,

but most of it was eaten absolutely raw. The spectacle witnessed on the

beach would have been intensely comical were it not so revolting. Many

of the savages, both men and women, had gorged themselves to such an

extent as to be absolutely unable to walk; and they rolled about on the

sand, tearing at the ground in agony, their stomachs distended in the

most extraordinary and disgusting manner. It may amuse you to know that

smoke-signals were at once sent up for all the "doctors" in the country,

and these ministering angels could presently be seen with their massage

shells, rubbing the distended stomachs of the sufferers as they lay on

the beach. I saw some men fairly howling with agony, but yet still

devouring enormous quantities of oil and blubber! Besides the massage

treatment (with the thumbs as well as shells), the "doctors" administered

a kind of pill, or pellet, of some green leaf, which they first chewed in

their own mouth and then placed in that of the patient. So magical was

this potent herb in its action, that I feel sure it would make the

fortune of an enterprising syndicate. Other patients, who had obtained

temporary relief through the kind offices of the medicine-men, returned

to the whales again, and had another enormous gorge. In fact, the blacks

behaved more like wild beasts of the lowest order than men, and in a very

short time--considering the enormous bulk of the whales--nothing remained

except the immense bones.

On the other hand, the orgie had its uses from my point of view, because

I took advantage of the arrival of so many strange tribes to make myself

acquainted with their chiefs, their languages, and their manners and

customs, in the hope that these people might be useful to me some day

when I commenced my journey overland to civilisation. For, of course,

all hope of escape by sea had now to be abandoned, since my boat was

destroyed. Several days elapsed, however, before I was able to remain in

their presence without a feeling of utter disgust. To be precise, I

could not talk to them before they ate, because they were so anxious to

get at the food; and after the feast they were too gorged with fat to be

able to talk rationally. In all my wanderings amongst the blacks I never

came across anything that interested them so much as a whale.

Soon after the loss of the boat, Yamba made me a small bark canoe about

fifteen feet long, but not more than fourteen inches wide, and in this we

undertook various little excursions together to the various islands that

studded the bay. The construction of this little canoe was very

interesting. Yamba, first of all, heated the bark, and then turned the

rough part underneath in order that the interior might be perfectly

smooth. She then _sewed_ up the ends, finally giving the little craft a

coat of resin, obtained by making incisions in the gum-trees. Of course,

I missed my own substantial boat, and it was some little time before I

grew accustomed to the frail canoe, which necessitated the greatest

possible care in handling, and also on the part of the passengers

generally.

One day I decided to go and explore one of the islands that studded

Cambridge Gulf, in search of a kind of shell mud-fish which I was very

partial to. I also wanted to make the acquaintance of the bats or flying

foxes I had seen rising in clouds every evening at sunset. I required

the skins of these curious creatures for sandals. This would perhaps be

a year after my advent amongst the blacks. As usual, Yamba was my only

companion, and we soon reached a likely island. As I could find no

suitable place for landing, I turned the canoe up a small creek. From

this course, however, my companion strongly dissuaded me. Into the

creek, nevertheless, we went, and when I saw it was a hopeless _impasse_,

I scrambled ashore and waded through five inches or six inches of mud.

The little island was densely covered with luxuriant tropical vegetation,

the mangroves coming right down to the water's edge; so that I had

actually to force my way through them to gain the top of the bank. I

then entered a very narrow track through the forest, the bush on both

sides being so dense as to resemble an impenetrable wall or dense hedge.

It is necessary to bear this in mind to realise what followed. I had not

gone many yards along this track, when I was horrified to see, right in

front of me, an enormous alligator! This great reptile was shuffling

along down the path towards me, evidently making for the water, and it

not only blocked my advance, but also necessitated my immediate retreat.

The moment the brute caught sight of me he stopped, and began snapping

his jaws viciously. I confess I was quite nonplussed for the moment as

to how best to commence the attack upon this unexpected visitor. It was

impossible for me to get round him in any way, on account of the dense

bush on either side of the narrow forest track. I decided, however, to

make a bold dash for victory, having always in mind the prestige that was

so necessary to my existence among the blacks. I therefore walked

straight up to the evil-looking monster; then, taking a short run, I

leaped high into the air, shot over his head, and landed on his scaly

back, at the same time giving a tremendous yell in order to attract

Yamba, whom I had left in charge of the boat.

The moment I landed on his back I struck the alligator with all my force

with my tomahawk, on what I considered the most vulnerable part of his

head. So powerful was my stroke, that I found to my dismay that I could

not get the weapon out of his head again. While I was in this

extraordinary situation--standing on the back of an enormous alligator,

and tugging at my tomahawk, embedded in its head--Yamba came rushing up

the path, carrying one of the paddles, which, without a moment's

hesitation, she thrust down the alligator's throat as he turned to snap

at her. She immediately let go her hold and retreated. The alligator

tried to follow her, but the shaft of the paddle caught among some tree

trunks and stuck. In this way the monster was prevented from moving his

head, either backwards or forwards, and then, drawing my stiletto, I

blinded him in both eyes, afterwards finishing him leisurely with my

tomahawk, when at length I managed to release it. Yamba was immensely

proud of me after this achievement, and when we returned to the mainland

she gave her tribesmen a graphic account of my gallantry and bravery. But

she always did this. She was my advance agent and bill-poster, so to

say. I found in going into a new country that my fame had preceded me;

and I must say this was most convenient and useful in obtaining

hospitality, concessions, and assistance generally. The part I had

played in connection with the death of the two whales had already earned

for me the admiration of the blacks--not only in my own tribe, but all

over the adjacent country. And after this encounter with the alligator

they looked upon me as a very great and powerful personage indeed. We

did not bring the dead monster back with us, but next day a number of the

blacks went over with their catamarans, and towed the reptile back to the

mainland, where it was viewed with open-mouthed amazement by crowds of

admiring natives. So great was the estimation in which my prowess was

held, that little scraps of the dead alligator were distributed (as

relics, presumably) among the tribes throughout the whole of the

surrounding country. Singularly enough this last achievement of mine was

considered much more commendable than the killing of the whale, for the

simple reason that it sometimes happened they caught a whale themselves

stranded on the beach; whereas the killing of an alligator with their

primitive weapons was a feat never attempted. They chanted praises in my

honour at night, and wherever I moved, my performances with the whales

and alligator were always the first things to be sung. Nor did I attempt

to depreciate my achievements; on the contrary, I exaggerated the facts

as much as I possibly could. I described to them how I had fought and

killed the whale with my stiletto in spite of the fact that the monster

had smashed my boat. I told them that I was not afraid of facing

anything single-handed, and I even went so far as to allege that I was

good enough to go out against a nation! My whole object was to impress

these people with my imaginary greatness, and I constantly made them

marvel at my prowess with the bow and arrow. The fact of my being able

to bring down a bird on the wing was nothing more nor less than a miracle

to them. I was given the name of "Winnimah" by these people, because my

arrows sped like lightning. Six of the alligator's teeth I took for

myself, and made them into a circlet which I wore round my head.

Some little time after this incident I decided to remove my

dwelling-place to the top of a headland on the other side of the bay,

some twenty miles away, where I thought I could more readily discern any

sail passing by out at sea. The blacks themselves, who were well aware

of my hopes of getting back to my own people, had themselves suggested

that I might find this a more likely place for the purpose than the low-

lying coast on which their tribe was then encamped. They also pointed

out to me, however, that I should find it cold living in so exposed a

position. But the hope of seeing passing sails decided me, and one

morning I took my departure, the whole nation of blacks coming out in

full force to bid us adieu. I think the last thing they impressed upon

me, in their peculiar native way, was that they would always be delighted

and honoured to welcome me back among them. Yamba, of course,

accompanied me, as also did my dog, and we were escorted across the bay

by a host of my native friends in their catamarans. I pitched upon a

fine bold spot for our dwelling-place, but the blacks assured me that we

would find it uncomfortably cold and windy, to say nothing about the

loneliness, which I could not but feel after so much intercourse with the

friendly natives. I persisted, however, and we at length pitched our

encampment, on the bleak headland, which I now know to be Cape

Londonderry, the highest northern point of Western Australia.

Occasionally some of our black friends would pay us a visit, but we could

never induce them to locate their village near us.

Day after day, day after day, I gazed wistfully over the sea for hours at

a time, without ever seeing a sail, and at last I began to grow somewhat

despondent, and sighed for the companionship of my black friends once

more. Yamba was unremitting in her endeavours to make life pleasant for

me and keep me well supplied with the best of food; but I could see that

she, too, did not like living on this exposed and desolate spot. So,

after a few weeks' experience of life there, I decided to return to my

bay home, and later on make preparations for a journey overland to a

point on the Australian coast, where I learned ships quite frequently

passed. The point in question was Somerset Point, at the extreme north

of the Cape York peninsula; and I had learnt of its existence from Jensen

when we were pearl-fishing. The blacks were delighted to see me on my

return, and I remained with them several months before attempting my next

journey. They were keenly anxious that I should join them in their

fighting expeditions, but I always declined, on the ground that I was not

a fighting man. The fact of the matter was, that I could never hope to

throw a spear with anything like the dexterity they themselves possessed;

and as spears were the principal weapons used in warfare, I was afraid I

would not show up well at a critical moment. Moreover, the warriors

defended themselves so dexterously with shields as to be all but

invulnerable, whereas I had not the slightest idea of how to handle a

shield. And for the sake of my ever-indispensable prestige, I could not

afford to make myself ridiculous in their eyes. I always took good care

to let the blacks see me performing only those feats which I felt morally

certain I could accomplish, and accomplish to their amazement.

So far I had won laurels enough with my mysterious arrows or "flying

spears," as the natives considered them, and my prowess with the harpoon

and tomahawk was sung in many tribes. And not the least awkward thing

about my position was that I dared not even attempt a little quiet

practice in spear-throwing, for fear the blacks should come upon me

suddenly, when I would most certainly lose caste. I had several narrow

escapes from this serious calamity, but most of them cannot be published

here. I must tell you, though, that the blacks, when drinking at a river

or water-hole, invariably scoop up the water with their hands, and never

put their mouths right down close to the surface of the water. Well, one

day I was guilty of this solecism. I had been out on a hunting

expedition, and reached the water-hole with an intense burning thirst. My

mentor was not with me. I fell on my knees and fairly buried my face in

the life-giving fluid. Suddenly I heard murmurs behind me. I turned

presently and saw a party of my blacks regarding me with horror. They

said I drank like a kangaroo. But Yamba soon came to the rescue, and

explained away the dreadful breach of etiquette, by telling them that I

was not drinking, but simply cooling my face; when we were alone she

solemnly cautioned me never to do it again.

The months passed slowly away, and I was still living the same monotonous

life among my blacks--accompanying them upon their hunting expeditions,

joining in their sports, and making periodical trips inland with Yamba,

in preparation for the great journey I proposed to make overland to Cape

York. When I spoke to my devoted companion about my plans, she told me

she was ready to accompany me wherever I went--to leave her people and to

be for ever by my side. Right well I knew that she would unhesitatingly

do these things. Her dog-like fidelity to me never wavered, and I know

she would have laid down her life for me at any time.

Often I told her of my own home beyond the seas, and when I asked her

whether she would come with me, she would reply, "Your people are my

people, and your God (spirit) my God. I will go with you wherever you

take me."

At length everything was ready, and I paid a final farewell, as I

thought, to my black friends in Cambridge Gulf, after a little over

eighteen months' residence among them. They knew I was venturing on a

long journey overland to another part of the country many moons distant,

in the hope of being able to get into touch with my own people; and

though they realised they should never see me again, they thought my

departure a very natural thing. The night before we left, a great

_corroboree_ was held in my honour. We had a very affectionate leave-

taking, and a body of the natives escorted us for the first 100 miles or

so of our trip. At last, however, Yamba, myself, and the faithful dog

were left to continue our wanderings alone. The reliance I placed upon

this woman by the way was absolute and unquestioning. I knew that alone

I could not live a day in the awful wilderness through which we were to

pass; nor could any solitary white man. By this time, however, I had had

innumerable demonstrations of Yamba's almost miraculous powers in the way

of providing food and water when, to the ordinary eye, neither was

forthcoming. I should have mentioned that before leaving my black people

I had provided myself with what I may term a native passport--a kind of

Masonic mystic stick, inscribed with certain cabalistic characters. Every

chief carried one of these sticks. I carried mine in my long, luxuriant

hair, which I wore "bun" fashion, held in a net of opossum hair. This

passport stick proved invaluable as a means of putting us on good terms

with the different tribes we encountered. The chiefs of the blacks never

ventured out of their own country without one of these mysterious sticks,

neither did the native message-bearers. I am sure I should not have been

able to travel far without mine.

Whenever I encountered a strange tribe I always asked to be taken before

the chief, and when in his presence I presented my little stick, he would

at once manifest the greatest friendliness, and offer us food and drink.

Then, before I took my departure, he also would inscribe his sign upon

the message stick, handing it back to me and probably sending me on to

another tribe with an escort. It often happened, however, that I was

personally introduced to another tribe whose "frontier" joined that of my

late hosts, and in such cases my passport was unnecessary.

At first the country through which our wanderings led us was hilly and

well wooded, the trees being particularly fine, many of them towering up

to a height of 150 feet or 200 feet. Our principal food consisted of

roots, rats, snakes, opossum, and kangaroo. The physical conditions of

the country were constantly changing as we moved farther eastward, and

Yamba's ingenuity was often sorely taxed to detect the whereabouts of the

various roots necessary for food. It was obviously unfair to expect her

to be familiar with the flora and fauna of every part of the great

Australian Continent. Sometimes she was absolutely nonplused, and had to

stay a few days with a tribe until the women initiated her into the best

methods of cooking the roots of the country. And often we could not

understand the language. In such cases, though, when spoken words were

unlike those uttered in Yamba's country, we resorted to a wonderful sign-

language which appears to be general among the Australian blacks. All

that Yamba carried was a basket made of bark, slung over her shoulder,

and containing a variety of useful things, including some needles made

out of the bones of birds and fish; a couple of light grinding-stones for

crushing out of its shell a very sustaining kind of nut found on the palm

trees, &c. Day after day we walked steadily on in an easterly direction,

guiding ourselves in the daytime by the sun, and in the evening by

opossum scratches on trees and the positions of the ant-hills, which are

always built facing the east. We crossed many creeks and rivers,

sometimes wading and at others time swimming.

Gradually we left the hilly country behind, and after about five or six

weeks' tramping got into an extraordinary desert of red sand, which gave

off a dust from our very tracks that nearly suffocated us. Each water-

hole we came across now began to contain less and less of the precious

liquid, and our daily _menu_ grew more and more scanty, until at length

we were compelled to live on practically nothing but a few roots and

stray rats. Still we plodded on, finally striking a terrible spinifex

country, which was inconceivably worse than anything we had hitherto

encountered. In order to make our way through this spinifex (the

terrible "porcupine grass" of the Australian interior), we were bound to

follow the tracks made by kangaroos or natives, otherwise we should have

made no progress whatever. These tracks at times wandered about zigzag

fashion, and led us considerable distances out of our course, but, all

the same, we dare not leave them. Not only was water all but

unobtainable here, but our skin was torn with thorns at almost every

step. Yamba was terribly troubled when she found she could no longer

provide for my wants. Fortunately the dew fell heavily at night, and a

sufficient quantity would collect on the foliage to refresh me somewhat

in the morning. How eagerly would I lick the precious drops from the

leaves! Curiously enough, Yamba herself up to this time did not seem

distressed from lack of water; but nothing about this marvellous woman

surprised me. It took us about ten days to pass through the awful

spinifex desert, and for at least eight days of that period we were

virtually without water, tramping through never-ending tracts of scrub,

prickly grass, and undulating sand-hills of a reddish colour. Often and

often I blamed myself bitterly for ever going into that frightful country

at all. Had I known beforehand that it was totally uninhabited I

certainly should not have ventured into it. We were still going due

east, but in consequence of the lack of water-holes, my heroic guide

thought it advisable to strike a little more north.

CHAPTER VII

The agonies of thirst--A ghastly drink--I ask Yamba to kill me--My

ministering angel--How Yamba caught opossum--The water witch--A barometer

of snakes--The coming deluge--The plunge into the Rapids--A waste of

waters--A fearful situation--Barking alligators--English-speaking

natives--A ship at last--I abandon hope--The deserted settlement.

By this time I began to feel quite delirious; I fear I was like a baby in

Yamba's hands. She knew that all I wanted was water, and became almost

distracted when she could not find any for me. Of herself she never

thought. And yet she was full of strange resources and devices. When I

moaned aloud in an agony of thirst, she would give me some kind of grass

to chew; and although this possessed no real moisture, yet it promoted

the flow of saliva, and thus slightly relieved me.

Things grew worse and worse, however, and the delirium increased. Hour

after hour--through the endless nights would that devoted creature sit by

my side, moistening my lips with the dew that collected on the grass. On

the fifth day without water I suffered the most shocking agonies, and in

my lucid moments gave myself up for lost. I could neither stand nor

walk, speak nor swallow. My throat seemed to be almost closed up, and

when I opened my eyes everything appeared to be going round and round in

the most dizzy and sickening manner. My heart beat with choking

violence, and my head ached, so that I thought I was going mad. My

bloodshot eyes (so Yamba subsequently told me) projected from their

sockets in the most terrifying manner, and a horrible indescribable

longing possessed me to kill my faithful Bruno, in order to drink his

blood. My poor Bruno! As I write these humble lines, so lacking in

literary grace, I fancy I can see him lying by my side in that glaring,

illimitable wilderness, his poor, dry tongue lolling out, and his piteous

brown eyes fixed upon me with an expression of mute appeal that added to

my agony. The only thing that kept him from collapsing altogether was

the blood of some animal which Yamba might succeed in killing.

Gradually I grew weaker and weaker, and at last feeling the end was near,

I crawled under the first tree I came across--never for a moment giving a

thought as to its species,--and prepared to meet the death I now

fervently desired. Had Yamba, too, given up, these lines would never

have been written. Amazing to relate, she kept comparatively well and

active, though without water; and in my most violent paroxysm she would

pounce upon a lizard or a rat, and give me its warm blood to drink, while

yet it lived. Then she would masticate a piece of iguana flesh and give

it to me in my mouth, but I was quite unable to swallow it, greatly to

her disappointment. She must have seen that I was slowly sinking, for at

last she stooped down and whispered earnestly in my ear that she would

leave me for a little while, and go off in search of water. Like a dream

it comes back to me how she explained that she had seen some birds

passing overhead, and that if she followed in the same direction she was

almost certain to reach water sooner or later.

I could not reply; but I felt it was a truly hopeless enterprise on her

part. And as I did not want her to leave me, I remember I held out my

tomahawk feebly towards her, and signed to her to come and strike me on

the head with it and so put an end to my dreadful agonies. The heroic

creature only smiled and shook her head emphatically. She took the

proffered weapon, however, and after putting some distinguishing marks on

my tree with it, she hurled it some distance away from me. She then

stooped and propped me against the trunk of the tree; and then leaving my

poor suffering dog to keep me company, she set out on her lonely search

with long, loping strides of amazing vigour.

It was late in the afternoon when she took her departure; and I lay there

hour after hour, sometimes frantically delirious, and at others in a

state of semi-consciousness, fancying she was by my side with shells

brimming over with delicious water. I would rouse myself with a start

from time to time, but, alas! my Yamba was not near me. During the long

and deathly stillness of the night, the dew came down heavily, and as it

enveloped my bed, I fell into a sound sleep, from which I was awakened

some hours later by the same clear and ringing voice that had addressed

me on that still night on my island sand-spit. Out upon the impressive

stillness of the air rang the earnest words: "_Coupe l'arbre_! _Coupe

l'arbre_!"

I was quite conscious, and much refreshed by my sleep, but the message

puzzled me a great deal. At first I thought it must have been Yamba's

voice, but I remembered that she did not know a word of French; and when

I looked round there was no one to be seen. The mysterious message still

rang in my ears, but I was far too weak to attempt to cut the tree

myself, I lay there in a state of inert drowsiness until, rousing myself

a little before dawn, I heard the familiar footsteps of Yamba approaching

the spot where I lay. Her face expressed anxiety, earnestness, and joy.

In her trembling hands she bore a big lily leaf containing two or three

ounces of life-giving water. This I drank with gasping eagerness, as you

may suppose. My delirium had now entirely left me, although I was still

unable to speak. I signed to her to cut the tree, as the voice in my

dream had directed me. Without a word of question Yamba picked up the

tomahawk from where she had hurled it, and then cut vigorously into the

trunk, making a hole three or four inches deep. It may seem astonishing

to you, but it surprised me in no wise when out from the hole there

_trickled a clear_, _uncertain stream of water_, under which Yamba

promptly held my fevered head. This had a wonderfully refreshing effect

upon me, and in a short time I was able to speak feebly but rationally,

greatly to the delight of my faithful companion. As, however, I was

still too weak to move, I indulged in another and far sounder sleep. I

do not know the scientific name of that wonderful Australian tree which

saved my life, but believe it is well known to naturalists. I have heard

it called the "bottle tree," from the shape of the trunk. All through

that terrible night, while Yamba was far away searching for water, Bruno

had never left my side, looking into my face wistfully, and occasionally

licking my body sympathetically with his poor, parched tongue. Whilst I

was asleep the second time, Yamba went off with the dog in search of

food, and returned with a young opossum, which was soon frizzling in an

appetising way on a tripod of sticks over a blazing fire. I was able to

eat a little of the flesh, and we obtained all the water we wanted from

our wonderful tree. Of course, Yamba was unacquainted with the fact that

water was stored in its interior. As a rule, her instinct might be

depended upon implicitly; and even after years of her companionship I

used to be filled with wonder at the way in which she would track down

game and find honey. She would glance at a tree casually, and discern on

the bark certain minute scratches, which were quite invisible to me, even

when pointed out. She would then climb up like a monkey, and return to

the ground with a good-sized opossum, which would be roasted in its skin,

with many different varieties of delicious roots.

When I had quite recovered, Yamba told me she had walked many miles

during the night, and had finally discovered a water-hole in a new

country, for which she said we must make as soon as I was sufficiently

strong. Fortunately this did not take very long, and on reaching the

brink of the water-hole we camped beside it for several days, in order to

recuperate. I must say that the water we found here did not look very

inviting--it was, in fact, very slimy and green in colour; but by the

time we took our departure there was not a drop left. Yamba had a method

of filtration which excited my admiration. She dug another hole

alongside the one containing the water, leaving a few inches of earth

between them, through which the water would percolate, and collect in

hole perfectly filtered.

At other times, when no ordinary human being could detect the presence of

water, she would point out to me a little knob of clay on the ground in

an old dried-up water-hole. This, she told me, denoted the presence of a

frog, and she would at once thrust down a reed about eighteen inches

long, and invite me to suck the upper end, with the result that I imbibed

copious draughts of delicious water.

At the water-hole just described birds were rather plentiful, and when

they came down to drink, Yamba knocked them over without difficulty. They

made a very welcome addition to our daily bill of fare. Her mode of

capturing the birds was simplicity itself. She made herself a long

covering of grass that completely enveloped her, and, shrouded in this,

waited at the edge of the water-hole for the birds to come and drink.

Then she knocked over with a stick as many as she required. In this way

we had a very pleasant spell of rest for four or five days. Continuing

our journey once more, we pushed on till in about three weeks we came to

a well-wooded country, where the eucalyptus flourished mightily and water

was plentiful; but yet, strange to say, there was very little game in

this region. Soon after this, I noticed that Yamba grew a little

anxious, and she explained that as we had not come across any kangaroos

lately, nor any blacks, it was evident that the wet season was coming on.

We therefore decided to steer for higher ground, and accordingly went

almost due north for the next few days, until we reached the banks of a

big river--the Roper River, as I afterwards found out--where we thought

it advisable to camp. This would probably be sometime in the month of

December.

One day I saw a number of small snakes swarming round the foot of a tree,

and was just about to knock some of them over with my stick, when Yamba

called out to me excitedly not to molest them. They then began to climb

the tree, and she explained that this clearly indicated the advent of the

wet season. "I did not wish you to kill the snakes," she said, "because

I wanted to see if they would take refuge in the trees from the coming

floods."

Up to this time, however, there had not been the slightest indication of

any great change in the weather. Many months must have elapsed since

rain had fallen in these regions, for the river was extremely low between

its extraordinarily high banks, and the country all round was dry and

parched; but even as we walked, a remarkable phenomenon occurred, which

told of impending changes. I was oppressed with a sense of coming evil.

I listened intently when Yamba requested me to do so, but at first all I

could hear was a curious rumbling sound, far away in the distance. This

noise gradually increased in volume, and came nearer and nearer, but

still I was utterly unable to account for it. I also noticed that the

river was becoming strangely agitated, and was swirling along at ever-

increasing speed. Suddenly an enormous mass of water came rushing down

with a frightful roar, in one solid wave, and then it dawned upon me that

it must have already commenced raining in the hills, and the tributaries

of the river were now sending down their floods into the main stream,

which was rising with astonishing rapidity. In the course of a couple of

hours it had risen between thirty and forty feet. Yamba seemed a little

anxious, and suggested that we had better build a hut on some high ground

and remain secure in that locality, without attempting to continue our

march while the rains lasted; and it was evident they were now upon us.

We therefore set to work to construct a comfortable little shelter of

bark, fastened to a framework of poles by means of creepers and climbing

plants. Thus, by the time the deluge was fairly upon us, we were quite

snugly ensconced. We did not, however, remain in-doors throughout the

whole of the day, but went in and out, hunting for food and catching game

just as usual; the torrential rain which beat down upon our naked bodies

being rather a pleasant experience than otherwise. At this time we had a

welcome addition to our food in the form of cabbage-palms and wild honey.

We also started building a catamaran, with which to navigate the river

when the floods had subsided. Yamba procured a few trunks of very light

timber, and these we fastened together with long pins of hardwood, and

then bound them still more firmly together with strips of kangaroo hide.

We also collected a stock of provisions to take with us--kangaroo and

opossum meat, of course; but principally wild honey, cabbage-palm, and

roots of various kinds. These preparations took us several days, and by

the time we had arranged everything for our journey the weather had

become settled once more. Yamba remarked to me that if we simply drifted

down the Roper River we should be carried to the open sea; nor would we

be very long, since the swollen current was now running like a mill-race.

Our catamaran, of course, afforded no shelter of any kind, but we carried

some sheets of bark to form seats for ourselves and the dog.

At length we pushed off on our eventful voyage, and no sooner had we got

fairly into the current than we were carried along with prodigious

rapidity, and without the least exertion on our part, except in the

matter of steering. This was done by means of paddles from the side of

the craft. We made such rapid progress that I felt inclined to go on all

night, but shortly after dusk Yamba persuaded me to pull in-shore and

camp on the bank until morning, because of the danger of travelling at

night among the logs and other wreckage that floated about on the surface

of the water.

We passed any number of submerged trees, and on several of these found

snakes coiled among the branches. Some of these reptiles we caught and

ate. About the middle of the second day we heard a tremendous roar

ahead, as though there were rapids in the bed of the river. It was now

impossible to pull the catamaran out of its course, no matter how hard we

might have striven, the current being absolutely irresistible. The banks

narrowed as the rapids were reached, with the result that the water in

the middle actually became _convex_, so tremendous was the rush in that

narrow gorge. Yamba cried out to me to lie flat on the catamaran, and

hold on as tightly as I could until we reached smooth water again. This

she did herself, seizing hold of the dog also.

Nearer and nearer we were swept to the great seething caldron of boiling

and foaming waters, and at last, with a tremendous splash we entered the

terrifying commotion. We went right under, and so great was the force of

the water, that had I not been clinging tenaciously to the catamaran I

must infallibly have been swept away to certain death. Presently,

however, we shot into less troubled waters and then continued our course,

very little the worse for having braved these terrible rapids. Had our

craft been a dug-out boat, as I originally intended it to be, we must

inevitably have been swamped. Again we camped on shore that night, and

were off at an early hour next morning. As we glided swiftly on, I

noticed that the river seemed to be growing tremendously wide. Yamba

explained that we were now getting into very flat country, and therefore

the great stretch of water was a mere flood. She also prophesied a

rather bad time for us, as we should not be able to go ashore at night

and replenish our stock of provisions. Fortunately we had a sufficient

supply with us on the catamaran to last at least two or three days

longer. The last time we landed Yamba had stocked an additional quantity

of edible roots and smoked meats, and although we lost a considerable

portion of these in shooting the rapids, there still remained enough for

a few days' supply.

In consequence of the ever-increasing width of the river, I found it a

difficult matter to keep in the channel where the current was, so I gave

up the steering paddle to Yamba, who seemed instinctively to know what

course to take.

On and on we went, until at length the whole country as far as the eye

could reach was one vast sea, extending virtually to the horizon; its

sluggish surface only broken by the tops of the submerged trees. One day

we sighted a number of little islets some distance ahead, and then we

felt we must be nearing the mouth of the river. The last day or two had

been full of anxiety and inconvenience for us, for we had been simply

drifting aimlessly on, without being able to land and stretch our cramped

limbs or indulge in a comfortable sleep. Thus the sight of the islands

was a great relief to us, and my ever-faithful and considerate companion

remarked that as we had nothing to fear now, and I was weary with my

vigil of the previous night, I had better try and get a little sleep.

Accordingly I lay down on the catamaran, and had barely extended my limbs

when I fell fast asleep. I awoke two or three hours later, at mid-day,

and was surprised to find that our catamaran was not moving. I raised

myself up, only to find that we had apparently drifted among the tops of

a ring of trees rising from a submerged island. "Halloa!" I said to

Yamba, "are we stuck?" "No," she replied quietly, "but look round."

You may judge of my horror and amazement when I saw outside the curious

ring of tree-tops, scores of huge alligators peering at us with horrid

stolidity through the branches, some of them snapping their capacious

jaws with a viciousness that left no doubt as to its meaning. Yamba

explained to me that she had been obliged to take refuge in this peculiar

but convenient shelter, because the alligators seemed to be swarming in

vast numbers in that part of the river. She had easily forced a way for

the catamaran through the branches, and once past, had drawn them

together again. The ferocious monsters could certainly have forced their

way into the inclosure after us, but they didn't seem to realise that

such a thing was possible, apparently being quite content to remain

outside. Judge, then, our position for yourself--with a scanty food

supply, on a frail platform of logs, floating among the tree-tops, and

literally besieged by crowds of loathsome alligators! Nor did we know

how long our imprisonment was likely to last. Our poor dog, too, was

terribly frightened, and sat whining and trembling in a most pitiable way

in spite of reassuring words and caresses from Yamba and myself. I

confess that I was very much alarmed, for the monsters would occasionally

emit a most peculiar and terrifying sound--not unlike the roar of a lion.

Hour after hour we sat there on the swaying catamaran, praying fervently

that the hideous reptiles might leave us, and let us continue our journey

in peace. As darkness began to descend upon the vast waste of waters, it

occurred to me to make a bold dash through the serried ranks of our

besiegers, but Yamba restrained me, telling me it meant certain death to

attempt to run the gantlet under such fearsome circumstances.

Night came on. How can I describe its horrors? Even as I write, I seem

to hear the ceaseless roars of those horrible creatures, and the weird

but gentle lappings of the limitless waste that extended as far as the

eye could reach. Often I was tempted to give up in despair, feeling that

there was no hope whatever for us. Towards morning, however, the

alligators apparently got on the scent of some floating carcasses brought

down by the floods, and one and all left us. Some little time after the

last ugly head had gone under, the catamaran was sweeping swiftly and

noiselessly down the stream again.

We made straight for a little island some distance ahead of us, and found

it uninhabited. Black and white birds, not quite so large as pigeons,

were very plentiful, as also were eggs. Soon my Yamba had a nice meal

ready for me, and then we lay down for a much-needed rest. After this we

steered for a large island some nine or ten miles distant, and as we

approached we could see that this one _was_ inhabited, from the smoke-

signals the natives sent up the moment they caught sight of us.

As we came nearer we could see the blacks assembling on the beach to meet

us, but, far from showing any friendliness, they held their spears poised

threateningly, and would no doubt have thrown them had I not suddenly

jumped to my feet and made signs that I wished to sit down with them--to

parley with them. They then lowered their spears, and we landed; but to

my great disappointment neither Yamba nor I could understand one word of

their language, which was totally different from the dialect of Yamba's

country. Our first meeting was conducted in the usual way--squatting

down on our haunches, and then drawing nearer and nearer until we were

able to rub noses on one another's shoulders. I then explained by means

of signs that I wanted to stay with them a few days, and I was

inexpressibly relieved to find that my little passport stick (which never

left my possession for a moment), was recognised at once, and proved most

efficacious generally. After this I became more friendly with my hosts,

and told them by signs that I was looking for white people like myself,

whereupon they replied I should have to go still farther south to find

them. They took us to their camp, and provided us with food, consisting

mainly of fish, shell-fish, and roots. So far as I could ascertain,

there were no kangaroo or opossum on the island. After two or three

days, I thought it time to be continuing our journey; but feeling

convinced that I must be in the vicinity of the Cape York

Peninsula--instead of being on the west coast of the Gulf of

Carpentaria--I decided not to go south at all, but to strike due north,

where I felt certain Somerset Point lay; and I also resolved to travel by

sea this time, the blacks having presented me with a very unsubstantial

"dug-out" canoe. Leaving behind us the catamaran that had brought us so

many hundreds of miles, we set out on our travels once more--taking care,

however, never to lose sight of the coast-line on account of our frail

craft. We passed several beautiful islands, big and little, and on one

that we landed I came across some native chalk drawings on the face of

the rock. They depicted rude figures of men--I don't remember any

animals--but were not nearly so well done as the drawings I had seen in

caves up in the Cape Londonderry district.

We also landed from time to time on the mainland, and spoke with the

chiefs of various tribes. They were all hostile at first. On one

occasion we actually met one or two blacks who spoke a few words of

English. They had evidently been out with pearlers at some time in their

lives, but had returned to their native wilds many years before our

visit. I asked them if they knew where white men were to be found, and

they pointed east (Cape York), and also indicated that the whites were

many moons' journey away from us. I was sorely puzzled. A glance at a

map of Australia will enable the reader to realise my great blunder.

Ignorant almost of Australian geography I fancied, on reaching the

western shores of the Gulf of Carpentaria, that I had struck the Coral

Sea, and that all I had to do was to strike north to reach Somerset, the

white settlement I had heard about from the pearlers. I felt so

confident Cape York lay immediately to the north, that I continued my

course in that direction, paddling all day and running in-shore to camp

at night. We lived mainly on shell-fish and sea-birds' eggs at this

time, and altogether life became terribly wearisome and monotonous. This,

however, was mainly owing to my anxiety.

About a fortnight after leaving the mouth of the Roper River we came to a

place which I now know to be Point Dale. We then steered south into a

beautiful landlocked passage which lies between the mainland and Elcho

Island, and which at the time I took to be the little strait running

between Albany Island and Cape York. I steered south-west in

consequence; and after a time, as I did not sight the points I was on the

look-out for, I felt completely nonplused. We landed on Elcho Island and

spent a day or two there. Being still under the impression that Cape

York was higher up, I steered west, and soon found myself in a very

unpleasant region. We explored almost every bay and inlet we came

across, but of course always with the same disheartening result.

Sometimes we would come near being stranded on a sandbank, and would have

to jump overboard and push our craft into deeper water. At others, she

would be almost swamped in a rough sea, but still we stuck to our task,

and after passing Goulbourn Island we followed the coast. Then we struck

north until we got among a group of islands, and came to Croker Island,

which goes direct north and south. Day after day we kept doggedly on,

hugging the shore very closely, going in and out of every bay, and

visiting almost every island, yet never seeing a single human being. We

were apparently still many hundreds of miles away from our destination.

To add to the wretchedness of the situation, my poor Yamba, who had been

so devoted, so hardy, and so contented, at length began to manifest

symptoms of illness, and complained gently of the weariness of it all.

"You are looking," she would say, "for a place that does not exist. You

are looking for friends of whose very existence you are unaware." I

would not give in, however, and persuaded her that all would be well in

time, if only she would continue to bear with me. Both of us were

terribly cramped in the boat; and by way of exercise one or the other

would occasionally jump overboard and have a long swim. Whenever we

could we landed at night.

One morning, shortly after we had begun our usual trip for the day, and

were rounding a headland, I was almost stupefied to behold in front of me

the masts of a boat (which I afterwards found to be a Malay proa), close

in-shore. The situation, in reality, was between Croker's Island and the

main, but at the time I thought that I had at length reached Somerset. I

sprang to my feet in a state of the greatest excitement. "Thank God!

thank God!" I shouted to Yamba; "we are saved at

last!--saved--saved--saved!" As I shouted, I pulled the canoe round and

made for the vessel with all possible despatch. We very soon came up

with her, and found her almost stranded, in consequence of the lowness of

the tide. I promptly clambered aboard, but failed to find a soul. I

thought this rather strange, but as I could see a hut not very far away,

close to the beach, I steered towards it. This little dwelling, too, was

uninhabited, though I found a number of trays of fish lying about, which

afterwards I found to be _beche-de-mer_ being dried and smoked. Suddenly,

while Yamba and I were investigating the interior of the hut, a number of

Malays unexpectedly appeared on the scene, and I then realised I had had

the good fortune to come across a Malay _beche-de-mer_ expedition.

The fishermen were exceedingly surprised at seeing Yamba and me; but when

they found I could speak their language a little they evinced every sign

of delight, and forthwith entertained us most hospitably on board their

craft, which was a boat of ten or fifteen tons. They told me they had

come from the Dutch islands south of Timor, and promptly made me an offer

that set my heart beating wildly. They said they were prepared to take

me back to Kopang, if I wished; and I, on my part, offered to give them

all the pearl shells left on my little island in the Sea of Timor--the

latitude of which I took good care not to divulge--on condition that they

called there. They even offered Yamba a passage along with me; but, to

my amazement and bitter disappointment, she said she did not wish to go

with them. She trembled as though with fear. She was afraid that when

once we were on board, the Malays would kill me and keep her.

One other reason for this fear I knew, but it in no way mitigated my

acute grief at being obliged to decline what would probably be my only

chance of returning to civilisation. For this I had pined day and night

for four or five years, and now that escape was within my grasp I was

obliged to throw it away. For let me emphatically state, that even if

civilisation had been but a mile away, I would not have gone a yard

towards it without that devoted creature who had been my salvation, not

on one occasion only, but practically every moment of my existence.

With passionate eagerness I tried to persuade Yamba to change her mind,

but she remained firm in her decision; and so, almost choking with bitter

regret, and in a state of utter collapse, I had to decline the offer of

the Malays. We stayed with them, however, a few weeks longer, and at

length they accompanied me to a camp of black fellows near some lagoons,

a little way farther south of their own camp. Before they left, they

presented me with a quantity of _beche-de-mer_, or sea-slugs, which make

most excellent soup. At the place indicated by the Malays, which was in

Raffles Bay, the chief spoke quite excellent English. One of his wives

could even say the Lord's Prayer in English, though, of course, she did

not know what she was talking about. "Captain Jack Davis," as he called

himself, had been for some little time on one of her Majesty's ships, and

he told me that not many marches away there was an old European

settlement; he even offered to guide me there, if I cared to go. He

first led me to an old white settlement in Raffles Bay, called, I think,

Fort Wellington, where I found some large fruit-trees, including ripe

yellow mangoes. There were, besides, raspberries, strawberries, and Cape

gooseberries. Needless to remark, all this made me very happy and

contented, for I felt I must now be getting near the home of some white

men. I thought that, after all, perhaps Yamba's refusal to go with the

Malays was for the best, and with high hopes I set out with Captain Davis

for another settlement he spoke of. This turned out to be Port

Essington, which we reached in two or three days. Another cruel blow was

dealt me here.

You can perhaps form some idea of my poignant dismay and disappointment

on finding that this dreary-looking place of swamps and marshes was quite

deserted, although there were still a number of ruined brick houses,

gardens, and orchards there. The blacks told me that at one time it had

been one of the most important penal settlements in Australia, but had to

be abandoned on account of the prevalence of malarial fever arising from

the swamps in the neighbourhood. I came across a number of graves, which

were evidently those of the exiled settlers; and one of the wooden

headstones bore the name of Captain Hill (I think that was the name). I

have an idea that the fence round this old cemetery still remained. There

was food in abundance at this place--raspberries, bananas, and mangoes

grew in profusion; whilst the marshes were inhabited by vast flocks of

geese, ducks, white ibis, and other wild-fowl. Indeed in the swamps the

birds rose in such prodigious numbers as actually to obscure the face of

the sun. Here for the first time I saw web-footed birds perched in

trees.

The blacks had a very peculiar method of catching water-fowl. They would

simply wade through the reeds into the water almost up to their necks,

and then cover their heads with a handful of reeds. Remaining perfectly

still, they would imitate the cry of different wild-fowl. Then at a

convenient opportunity, they would simply seize a goose or a duck by the

leg, and drag it down under the water until it was drowned. The number

of water-fowl caught in this way by a single black fellow was truly

astonishing.

After having remained a fortnight at Port Essington itself, we returned

to Raffles Bay, where Yamba and I made a camp among the blacks and took

up our residence among them; for Captain Davis had told me that ships

called there occasionally, and it was possible that one might call soon

from Port Darwin. The vessels, he added, came for buffalo meat--of which

more hereafter. I had decided to remain among these people some little

time, because they knew so much about Europeans, and I felt sure of

picking up knowledge which would prove useful to me.

CHAPTER VIII

In the throes of fever--A ghastly discovery--Pitiful relics--A critical

moment--Yamba in danger--A blood bath--A luxury indeed--Signs of

civilisation--The great storm--Drifting, drifting--Yamba's mysterious

glee--A dreadful shock--"Welcome home!"--My official protectors--Myself

as a cannibal war chief--Preparations for battle--A weird

apparition--Generosity to the vanquished--The old desire.

I had not been established in this camp many days, however, before I was

struck down, for the first time, with a terrible attack of malarial

fever, probably produced by the many hours I had spent wading in the

swamps at Port Essington. There were the usual symptoms--quick flushings

and fever heats, followed by violent fits of shivering, which no amount

of natural warmth could mitigate. My faithful Yamba was terribly

distressed at my condition, and waited upon me with most tender devotion;

but in spite of all that could be done for me, I grew gradually weaker,

until in the course of a few days I became wildly delirious. The blacks,

too, were very good to me, and doctored me, in their quaint native way,

with certain leaves and powders. All to no purpose, however; and for

several days I was even unable to recognise my Yamba. Then the fever

subsided somewhat, and I was left as weak and helpless as a little child.

It was some time before I quite recovered from the fever; and I was

frequently seized with distressing fits of shivering. I also experienced

an overwhelming desire for a drink of milk; why, I am unable to say.

Therefore, when some of the blacks told me that wild buffalo were to be

found in the neighbourhood--beasts which had formerly belonged to

settlers, but were now run wild--I resolved, when sufficiently strong, to

try and capture one of the cows for the sake of its milk. Captain Davis

ridiculed the idea, and assured me that it was only possible to slay one

with a rifle; but I determined to see what I could do.

Yamba, of course, accompanied me on my expedition, and her bushmanship

was altogether quite indispensable. We came upon buffalo tracks near a

large water-hole, and here we each climbed a gum-tree and awaited the

arrival of our prey. We waited a long time, but were at length rewarded

by seeing a big cow buffalo and her calf wandering leisurely in our

direction. My only weapons were a lasso made out of green kangaroo hide,

fixed to the end of a long pole; and my bow and arrows. I slid down the

tree a little way, and when the calf was near enough, I gently slipped

the noose over its neck, and promptly made it a prisoner under the very

nose of its astonished mother, who bellowed mournfully. My success so

elated Yamba that she, too, slid down from her hiding-place, and was

making her way over to me and the calf, when suddenly an enormous bull,

which we had not previously seen, rushed at her at full speed. Yamba

instantly realised her danger, and swarmed up a tree again like

lightning, just as the great brute was upon her. I called out to her to

attract the attention of the old bull whilst I attended to the mother and

calf. I dropped my pole to which the lasso was attached, and allowed the

little one to walk quickly away with it; but, as I anticipated, the

trailing shaft soon caught between the stumps of some trees, and made the

calf a more secure prisoner than ever. It was a curious repetition of

the story of the two whales. The mother walked round and round, and

appeared to be in the greatest distress. She never left her little one's

side, but continued to bellow loudly, and lick the calf to coax it away.

Quietly sliding down my tree, I made my way to where Yamba was still

holding the attention of the bull--a fiery brute who was pawing the

ground with rage at the foot of her tree. I had fitted an arrow to my

bow, and was preparing to shoot, when, unfortunately, the bull detected

the noise of my approach, and rushed straight at me. I confess it was

rather a trying moment, but I never lost my head, feeling confident of my

skill with the bow--which I had practised off and on ever since I had

left school at Montreux. I actually waited until the charging monster

was within a few paces, and then I let fly. So close was he that not

much credit is due to me for accurate aim. The arrow fairly transfixed

his right eye, causing him to pull up on his haunches, and roar with

pain.

Yamba, full of anxiety, hurried down her tree; but she had scarcely

reached the ground when the baffled bull wheeled and charged her, with

more fury than ever. She simply glided behind a tree, and then I showed

myself and induced the bull to charge me once more. Again I waited until

he was almost upon me, and then I sent another arrow into his other eye,

blinding him completely. On this, the poor brute brought up sharp, and

commenced to back in an uncertain way, bellowing with pain. I forgot all

my fever in the excitement, and rushing upon the beast with my tomahawk,

I dealt him a blow on the side of the head that made him stagger. I

brought him to the earth with two or three more blows, and a few minutes

later had administered the _coup-de-grace_. No sooner was the big bull

dead than I determined to test the efficacy of a very popular native

remedy for fever--for shivering fits still continued to come upon me at

most awkward times, usually late in the day. No matter how much grass

poor Yamba brought me as covering, I never could get warm, and so now I

thought I would try some animal heat.

Scarce had life left the body of the prostrate bull before I ripped open

the carcass between the fore and hind legs; and after remarking to Yamba,

"I am going to have heat this time," I crawled into the interior. My

head, however, was protruding from the buffalo's chest. Yamba understood

perfectly well what I was doing; and when I told her I was going to

indulge in a long sleep in my curious resting-place, she said she would

keep watch and see that I was not disturbed. I remained buried in the

bull's interior for the rest of the day and all through the night. Next

morning, to my amazement, I found I was a prisoner, the carcass having

got cold and rigid, so that I had literally to be dug out. As I emerged

I presented a most ghastly and horrifying spectacle. My body was covered

with congealed blood, and even my long hair was all matted and stiffened

with it. But never can I forget the feeling of exhilaration and strength

that took possession of me as I stood there looking at my faithful

companion. _I was absolutely cured_--a new man, a giant of strength! I

make a present of the cure to the medical profession.

Without delay I made my way down to the lagoon and washed myself

thoroughly, scrubbing myself with a kind of soapy clay, and afterwards

taking a run in order to get dry. This extraordinary system of applying

the carcass of a freshly killed animal is invariably resorted to by the

natives in case of serious illness, and they look upon it as an all but

infallible cure. Certainly it was surprisingly efficacious in my own

case.

Next day we directed our attention to the capture of the cow, which was

still wandering around her imprisoned little one, and only leaving it for

a few minutes at a time in order to get food. I constructed a small

fence or inclosure of sticks, and into this we managed to drive the cow.

We then kept her for two days without food and water, in order to tame

her, and did not even let her little calf come near her. We then

approached her, and found her perfectly subdued, and willing to take food

and water from us precisely as though she were the gentlest Alderney.

I found I was even able to milk her; and I can assure you that I never

tasted anything more delicious in my life than the copious droughts of

fresh milk I indulged in on that eventful morning. In fact, I

practically lived on nothing else for the next few days, and it pulled me

round in a most surprising way. The flesh of the dead buffalo I did not

touch myself, but handed it over to the blacks, who were vastly impressed

by my prowess as a mighty hunter. They themselves had often tried to

kill buffalo with their spears, but had never succeeded. I removed the

bull's hide, and made a big rug out of it, which I found very serviceable

indeed in subsequent wet seasons. It was as hard as a board, and nearly

half an inch thick.

When I returned to "Captain Davis" and the rest of my friends at Raffles

Bay, I was quite well and strong once more, and I stayed with them three

or four months, hunting almost every day (there were even wild ponies and

English cattle--of course, relics of the old settlement), and picking up

all the information I could. I had many conversations with Davis

himself, and he told me that I should probably find white men at Port

Darwin, which he said was between three and four hundred miles away. The

tribe at Port Essington, I may mention, only numbered about fifty souls.

This was about the year 1868. Captain Davis--who was passionately fond

of tobacco, and would travel almost any distance to obtain an ounce or

two from the Malay _beche-de-mer_ fishers--pointed out to me a blazed

tree near his camp on which the following inscription was cut:--

LUDWIG LEICHHARDT,

Overland from Sydney,

1847.

It was therefore evident that this district had already been visited by a

white man; and the fact that he had come overland filled me with hopes

that some day I, too, might return to civilisation in the same way. The

English-speaking black chief assured me that his father had acted as

guide to Leichhardt, but whether the latter got back safely to Sydney

again he never knew. The white traveller, he said, left Port Essington

in a ship.

Having considered all things, I decided to attempt to reach Port Darwin

by boat, in the hope of finding Europeans living there. At first, I

thought of going overland, but in discussing my plans with "Captain

Davis," he told me that I would have to cross swamps, fords, creeks, and

rivers, some of which were alive with alligators. He advised me to go by

water, and also told me to be careful not to be drawn into a certain

large bay I should come across, because of the alligators that swarmed on

its shores. The bay that he warned me against was, I think, Van Dieman's

Gulf. He told me to keep straight across the bay, and then pass between

Melville Island and the main. He fitted me out with a good stock of

provisions, including a quantity of _beche-de-mer_, cabbage-palm, fruit,

&c. I arranged my buffalo skin over my provisions as a protection,

turtle-back fashion. Our preparations completed, Yamba and I and the dog

pushed out into the unknown sea in our frail canoe, which was only about

fifteen feet long and fourteen inches wide. Of course, we kept close in-

shore all the time, and made pretty good progress until we passed Apsley

Strait, avoiding the huge Van Dieman's Gulf, with its alligator-infested

rivers and creeks. We must have been close to Port Darwin when, with

little or no warning, a terrific storm arose, and quickly carried us out

to sea in a south-westerly direction. In a moment our frail little craft

was partially swamped, and Yamba and I were compelled to jump overboard

and hang on to the gunwale on either side to prevent it from being

overwhelmed altogether. This was about a fortnight after I left Captain

Davis. We knew that if we were swamped, all our belongings, including my

poor Bruno, my live geese, water, and other provisions, would be lost in

the raging sea. The night that followed was perhaps one of the most

appalling experiences that ever befell me; but I had by this time become

so inured to terrible trials that I merely took it as a matter of course.

Imagine for yourself the scene. The giant waves are rolling mountains

high; the darkness of night is gathering round us fast, and I and my

heroic wife are immersed in the tremendous sea, hanging on for dear life

to a little dug-out canoe only fourteen inches wide. Although we were

soon thoroughly exhausted with our immersion in the water, we dared not

climb aboard. Will it be believed that _all night long_ we were

compelled to remain in the sea, clinging to the canoe, half drowned, and

tossed about like the insignificant atoms we were in the midst of the

stupendous waves, which were literally ablaze with phosphorescent light?

Often as those terrible hours crawled by, I would have let go my hold and

given up altogether were it not for Yamba's cheery and encouraging voice,

which I heard above the terrific roar of the storm, pointing out to me

how much we had been through already, and how many fearful dangers we had

safely encountered together. It seemed to me like the end of everything.

I thought of a certain poem relating to a man in a desperate situation,

written, I believe, by an American, whose name I could not remember. It

described the heart-breaking efforts made by a slave to obtain his

freedom. How bloodhounds were put upon his track; how he is at last

cornered in a swamp, and as he looks helplessly up at the stars he asks

himself, "Is it life, or is it death?" As I hung on to the little dug-

out, chilled to the very marrow, and more than half drowned by the

enormous seas, I recalled the whole poem and applied the slave's remarks

to myself. "Can it be possible," I said, "after all the struggles I have

made against varying fortune, that I am to meet death now?" I was in

absolute despair. Towards the early hours of the morning Yamba advised

me to get into the canoe for a spell, but she herself remained hanging on

to the gunwale, trying to keep the head of the little canoe before the

immense waves that were still running. I was very cold and stiff, and

found it difficult to climb aboard. As the morning advanced, the sea

began to abate somewhat, and presently Yamba joined me in the canoe. We

were, however, unable to shape our course for any set quarter, since by

this time we were out of sight of land altogether, and had not even the

slightest idea as to our position.

All that day we drifted aimlessly about, and then, towards evening, a

perfect calm settled on the sea. When we were somewhat rested we paddled

on in a direction where we concluded land must lie (we steered south-east

for the main); and in the course of a few hours we had the satisfaction

of seeing a little rocky island, which we promptly made for and landed

upon. Here we obtained food in plenty in the form of birds; but drinking-

water was not to be found anywhere, so we had to fall back on the small

stock we always carried in skins. Judging from the appearance of the

rocks, and the smell that pervaded the place, I imagined that this must

be a guano island. I now knew that we were near Port Darwin, _but as a

fact we had passed it in the great storm_, _while we were fighting for

our lives_. We slept on the island that night, and felt very much better

next morning when we started out on our voyage once more, visiting every

bay and inlet. Hope, too, began to reassert itself, and I thought that

after all we might be able to reach Port Darwin in spite of the distance

we must have been driven out of our course. Several islands studded the

sea through which we were now steadily threading our way, and that

evening we landed on one of these and camped for the night. Next day we

were off again, and as the weather continued beautifully fine we made

splendid progress.

One evening a few days after the storm, as we were placidly paddling

away, I saw Yamba's face suddenly brighten with a look I had never seen

on it before, and I felt sure this presaged some extraordinary

announcement. She would gaze up into the heavens with a quick, sudden

motion, and then her intelligent eyes would sparkle like the stars above.

I questioned her, but she maintained an unusual reserve, and, as I

concluded that she knew instinctively we were approaching Port Darwin, I,

too, felt full of joy and pleasure that the object of our great journey

was at length about to be achieved. Alas! what awaited me was only the

greatest of all the astounding series of disappointments--one indeed so

stunning as to plunge me into the very blackest depths of despair.

Yamba still continued to gaze up at the stars, and when at length she had

apparently satisfied herself upon a certain point, she turned to me with

a shout of excited laughter and delight, pointing frantically at a

certain glowing star. Seeing that I was still puzzled by her merriment,

she cried, "That star is one you remember well." I reflected for a

moment, and then the whole thing came to me like a flash of lightning.

_Yamba was approaching her own home once more_--_the very point from

which we had both started eighteen months previously_! In the storm, as

I have already said, we had passed Port Darwin altogether, having been

driven out to sea.

I tell you, my heart nearly burst when I recalled the awful privations

and hardships we had both experienced so recently; and when I realised

that all these things had been absolutely in vain, and that once more my

trembling hopes were to be dashed to the ground in the most appalling

manner, I fell back into the canoe, utterly crushed with horror and

impotent disappointment. Was there ever so terrible an experience? Take

a map of Australia, and see for yourself my frightful blunder--mistaking

the west coast of the Gulf of Carpentaria for the eastern waters of the

Cape York Peninsula, and then blindly groping northward and westward in

search of the settlement of Somerset, which in reality lay hundreds of

miles north-east of me. I was unaware of the very existence of the great

Gulf of Carpentaria. But were it not for having had to steer north to

get out of the waterless plains, I might possibly have reached the north-

eastern coast of the continent in due time, avoiding the Roper River

altogether.

Yamba knelt by my side and tried to comfort me in her own sweet, quaint

way, and she pictured to me--scant consolation--how glad her people would

be to have us both back amongst them once more. She also urged what a

great man I might be among her people if only I would stay and make my

home with them. Even her voice, however, fell dully on my ears, for I

was fairly mad with rage and despair--with myself, for not having gone

overland to Port Darwin from Port Essington, as, indeed, I should most

certainly have done were it not that Davis had assured me the greater

part of the journey lay through deadly swamps and creeks, and great

waters swarming with alligators. I had even had in my mind the idea of

attempting to _reach Sydney overland_! but thought I would first of all

see what facilities in the way of reaching civilisation Port Darwin had

to offer. Now, however, I was back again in Cambridge Gulf,--in the very

spot I had left a year and a half ago, and where I had landed with my

four blacks from the island sand-spit. But you, my readers, shall judge

of my feelings.

We landed on an island at the mouth of the gulf, and Yamba made smoke-

signals to her friends on the mainland, telling them of our return. We

resolved it would never do to confess we had been _driven back_. No, we

had roamed about and had come back to our dear friends of our own free-

will, feeling there was no place like home! just think what a _role_ this

was for me to play,--with my whole being thrilling with an agony of

helpless rage and bitter disappointment.

This time, however, we did not wait for the blacks to come out and meet

us, but paddled straight for the beach, where the chiefs and all the

tribe were assembled in readiness to receive us. The first poignant

anguish being passed, and the warmth of welcome being so cordial and

excessive (they cried with joy), I began to feel a little easier in my

mind and more resigned to inexorable fate. The usual ceremony of nose-

rubbing on shoulders was gone through, and almost every native present

expressed his or her individual delight at seeing us again. Then they

besieged us with questions, for we were now great travellers. A spacious

"humpy" or hut was built without delay, and the blacks vied with one

another in bringing me things which I sorely needed, such as fish,

turtles, roots, and eggs.

That evening a _corroboree_ on a gigantic scale was held in my honour;

and on every side the blacks manifested great rejoicing at my return,

which, of course, they never dreamed was involuntary. Human nature is,

as I found, the same the world over, and one reason for my warm welcome

was, that my blacks had just been severely thrashed by a neighbouring

tribe, and were convinced that if I would help them to retaliate, they

could not fail to inflict tremendous punishment upon their enemies. By

this time, having become, as I said before, somewhat resigned to my fate,

I consented to lead them in their next battle, on condition that two

shield-bearers were provided to protect me from the enemy's spears. This

being the first time I had ever undertaken war operations with my

friends, I determined that the experiment should run no risk of failure,

and that my dignity should in no way suffer. I declared, first of all,

that I would choose as my shield-bearers the two most expert men in the

tribe. There was much competition for these honoured posts, and many

warriors demonstrated their skill before me.

At length I chose two stalwart fellows, named respectively Warriga and

Bommera, and every day for a week they conducted some trial manoeuvres

with their friends. There would be a kind of ambush prepared, and

flights of spears would be hurled at me, only to be warded off with

astonishing dexterity by my alert attendants. All I was provided with

was my steel tomahawk and bow and arrows. I never really became expert

with the spear and shield, and I knew only too well that if I handled

these clumsily I should immediately lose prestige among the blacks.

After a week or two of practice and sham combats, I felt myself pretty

safe with my two protectors, and I then began organising an army to lead

against the enemy. Altogether I collected about 100 fighting men, each

armed with a bundle of throwing spears, a shield made of light wood, and

a short, heavy waddy or club for use at close quarters. When everything

was in readiness, I marched off at the head of my "army" and invaded the

enemy's country. We were followed by the usual crowd of women-folk, who

saw to the commissariat department and did the transport themselves. On

the first day out, we had to ford a large stream--a branch of the

Victoria River, I think--and at length reached a suitable place in which

to engage the enemy. It is difficult for me to fix the exact locality,

but I should judge it to be between Murchison and Newcastle ranges. The

country in which the operations took place was a fine open grassy plain,

thinly skirted with trees and with mountains almost encircling it in the

distance.

I ought here to describe my personal appearance on this important day,

when, for the first time, I posed as a great chief, and led my people

into battle, filled with the same enthusiasm that animated them. My hair

was built up on strips of whalebone to a height of nearly two feet from

my head, and was decorated with black and white cockatoo feathers. My

face, which had now become very dark from exposure to the sun, was

decorated in four colours--yellow, white, black, and red.

There were two black-and-white arched stripes across the forehead, and a

yellow curving line across each cheek under the eye. I also wore a

fairly long beard, moustache, and side-whiskers. There were four

different-coloured stripes on each arm, whilst on the body were four vari-

coloured stripes, two on each side; and a long, yellow, curving stripe

extended across the stomach, belt-wise. Around my middle I wore a kind

of double apron of emu skin, with feathers. There were other stripes of

different-coloured ochres on my legs, so that altogether you may imagine

I presented a terrifying appearance. Of this, however, I soon grew quite

oblivious--a fact which I afterwards had occasion bitterly to regret. It

were, indeed, well for me that I had on subsequent occasions realised

better the bizarre nature of my appearance, for had I done so I would

probably have reached civilisation years before I did.

At this period, then, you find me a fully equipped war chief of the

cannibal blacks, leading them on to battle attired as one of their own

chiefs in every respect, and with nearly all their tribal marks on my

body. When we reached the battle-ground, my men sent up smoke-signals of

defiance, announcing the fact of our invasion, and challenging the enemy

to come down from the mountains and fight us. This challenge was

promptly responded to by other smoke-signals, but as at least a day must

elapse before our antagonists could arrive I spent the interval in

devising a plan of battle--oddly enough, on the lines of a famous

historic Swiss encounter at Grandson five or six centuries ago.

I arranged that fifty or sixty men, under the leadership of a chief,

should occupy some high ground in our rear, to form a kind of ambush.

They were also to act as a reserve, and were instructed to come rushing

to our assistance when I signalled for them, yelling out their weird war-

cry of "Warra-hoo-oo,--warra-hoo-oo!" I concluded that this in itself

would strike terror into the hearts of our opponents, who were accustomed

to see the whole force engaged at one time, and knew nothing about troops

held in reserve, or tactics of any kind whatsoever. The native method of

procedure, as, I think, I have already remarked, was usually to dash pell-

mell at one another after the abuse and fight, until one side or the

other drew blood, without which no victory could be gained.

Just before the battle commenced I had a real inspiration which

practically decided the affair without any fighting at all. It occurred

to me that if I mounted myself on stilts, some eighteen inches high, and

shot an arrow or two from my bow, the enemy would turn tail and bolt. And

so it turned out. As the armies approached one another in full battle

array they presented quite an imposing appearance, and when a suitable

distance separated them they halted for the inevitable abusive parley.

Into the undignified abuse, needless to remark, I did not enter, but kept

well in the background. The spokesman of my tribe accused the enemy of

being without pluck--said that they were cowards, and would soon have

their livers eaten by the invaders. There was any amount of

spear-brandishing, yelling, and gesticulating. For these blacks

apparently find it impossible to come up to actual fighting pitch without

first being worked up to an extraordinary degree of excitement.

When at length the abuse had got perfectly delirious, and the first spear

was about to be thrown, I dashed to the front on my stilts. Several

spears were launched at me, but my shield-bearers turned them on one

side. I then shot half-a-dozen arrows into the enemy's ranks in almost

as many seconds. The consternation produced by this flight of "invisible

spears" was perfectly indescribable. With a series of appalling yells

the enemy turned and fled pell-mell. My men gave chase, and wounded many

of them. In the midst of the rout (the ruling thought being always

uppermost), it occurred to me that it might be a useful stroke of

business to make friends with this vanquished tribe, since they might

possibly be of service to me in that journey to civilisation, the idea of

which I never really abandoned from the day I was cast upon my little

sand-spit. Furthermore, it flashed across my mind that if I made these

nomadic tribes interested in me and my powers, news of my isolation might

travel enormous distances inland--perhaps even to the borders of

civilisation itself.

I communicated my ideas to my men, and they promptly entered into my

views. They consented to help me with great readiness. While I was

speaking with them, the vanquished warriors had re-formed into position

some three or four hundred yards away, and were watching our movements

with much curiosity. I now abandoned my stilts and my bow and arrows,

and marched off with my chiefs in the direction of our late opponents.

As we approached, with branches in our hands as flags of truce, I signed

to the startled men that we wished to be friendly; and when we halted,

several chiefs came forward unarmed from the ranks of the enemy to confer

with us. At first they were much surprised at my overtures, but I soon

convinced them of my sincerity, and they at length consented to accept my

offers of friendship. They acknowledged at once my superiority and that

of my men, and presently all the chiefs came forward voluntarily and

squatted at my feet in token of subjection. The two armies then united,

and we all returned to a great encampment, where the women prepared a

truly colossal feast for conquerors and conquered alike, and the greatest

harmony prevailed. It was magnificent, but I am sure it was not war. The

braves of both sides decorated themselves with many pigments in the

evening, and the two tribes united in one gigantic _corroboree_, which

was kept up all night, and for several days afterwards. We remained

encamped in this district for about a week, holding continuous

_corroboree_, and each day becoming more and more friendly with our late

enemies. The country abounded in game, and as the rivers were also well

stocked with fish the supply of food was abundant. At the end of the

week, however, we retired to our respective homes, but, strangely enough,

I felt I could no longer settle down to the old life among my friendly

blacks.

The old desire for wandering came over me, and I resolved that some day

in the near future I would make yet another attempt to reach

civilisation, this time striking directly south. For a time, however, I

forced myself to remain content, accompanying the men on their hunting

expeditions and going out fishing with my devoted Yamba.

CHAPTER IX

The children's sports--A terrible ordeal--Queer notions of beauty--How

little girls are taught--Domestic quarrels--Telltale footprints--I grow

weary--Off on a long cruise--Astounding news--A foreign tongue--Yamba has

seen the girls--A remarkable "letter"--A queer notion of decoration--Yamba

as "advance agent"--I meet the girls--A distressing interview--Jealousy

of the native women.

I was much interested in the children of the blacks, and observed all

their interesting ways. It is not too much to say in the case of both

boys and girls that they can swim as soon as they can walk. There is no

squeamishness whatever on the part of the mothers, who leave their little

ones to tumble into rivers, and remain out naked in torrential rains, and

generally shift for themselves. From the time the boys are three years

old they commence throwing toy spears at one another as a pastime. For

this purpose, long dry reeds, obtained from the swamps, are used, and the

little fellows practise throwing them at one another from various

distances, the only shields allowed being the palms of their own little

hands. They never seem to tire of the sport, and acquire amazing

dexterity at it. At the age of nine or ten they abandon the reeds and

adopt a heavier spear, with a wooden shaft and a point of hard wood or

bone. All kinds of interesting competitions are constantly organised to

test the boys' skill, the most valued prizes being the approbation of

parents and elders.

A small ring of hide, or creeper, is suspended from the branch of a tree,

and the competitors have to throw their spears clean through it at a

distance of twenty paces. All the chiefs and fighting men of the tribe

assemble to witness these competitions, and occasionally some little

award is made in the shape of anklets and bangles of small shells, strung

together with human hair. The boys are initiated into the ranks of the

"men and warriors" when they reach the age of about seventeen.

This initiation ceremony, by the way, is of a very extraordinary

character. Many of the details cannot be published here. As a rule, it

takes place in the spring, when the mimosa is in bloom, and other tribes

come from all parts to eat the nuts and gum. We will say that there are,

perhaps, twenty youths to undergo the ordeal, which is conducted far from

all camps and quite out of the sight of women and children. The

candidate prepares himself by much fasting, giving up meat altogether for

at least a week before the initiation ceremony commences. In some cases

candidates are despatched on a tramp extending over many days; and such

implicit faith is placed in their honour that judges are not even sent

with them to see that everything is carried out fairly. They must

accomplish this task within a given period, and without partaking of

either food or water during the whole time. No matter how great the

temptation may be on the route, they conform strictly to the rules of the

test, and would as soon think of running themselves through with a spear,

as of seeking a water-hole. The inspectors who judge at this amazing

examination are, of course, the old and experienced chiefs.

After the fasting comes the ordeal proper. The unfortunate candidate

presents himself before one of the examiners, and settles his face into a

perfectly stoical expression. He is then stabbed repeatedly on the

outside of the thighs and in the arms (never once is an artery cut); and

if he remains absolutely statuesque at each stab, he comes through the

most trying part of the ordeal with flying colours. A motion of the

lips, however, or a mutter--these are altogether fatal. Not even a toe

must move in mute agony; nor may even a muscle of the eyelid give an

uneasy and involuntary twitch. If the candidate fails in a minor degree,

he is promptly put back, to come up again for the next examination; but

in the event of his being unable to stand the torture, he is

contemptuously told to go and herd with the women--than which there is no

more humiliating expression.

While yet the candidate's wounds are streaming with blood, he is required

to run with lightning speed for two or three miles and fetch back from a

given spot a kind of toy lance planted in the ground. Then, having

successfully passed the triple ordeals of fasting, stabbing, and running

against time, and without food and water, the candidate, under the eyes

of his admiring father, is at length received into the ranks of the

bravest warriors, and is allowed to take a wife. At the close of the

ceremony, the flow of blood from the candidate's really serious flesh-

wounds is stopped by means of spiders' webs, powdered charcoal, and dry

clay powder.

With regard to the girls, I am afraid they received but scant

consideration.

Judged by our standard, the women were far from handsome. They had very

bright eyes, broad, flat noses, low, narrow foreheads, and heavy chins.

But there are comely exceptions. And yet at big _corroborees_ on the

occasion of a marriage, the men always chanted praises to the virtue and

beauty of the bride!

The girl who possessed an exceptionally large and flat nose was

considered a great beauty. Talking about noses, it was to me a

remarkable fact, that the blacks consider a warrior with a big nose and

large distended nostrils a man possessed of great staying power. For one

thing, they consider his breathing apparatus exceptionally perfect.

As a general rule (there are exceptions in the case of a very "beautiful"

woman), when a woman dies she is not even buried; she simply lies where

she has fallen dead, and the camp moves on to another place and never

returns to the unholy spot. And it may be mentioned here that the blacks

never allude to a dead person by name, as they have a great horror of

departed spirits. And so childish and suspicious are they, that they

sometimes even cut off the feet of a dead man to prevent his running

about and frightening them at inconvenient moments. I used to play upon

their fears, going out into the bush after dark, and pretending to

commune with the evil spirits. The voice of these latter was produced by

means of reed whistles. Once I made myself a huge, hideous mask out of a

kangaroo skin, with holes slit in it for the nose, mouth, and eyes. I

would don this strange garb in the evenings, and prowl about the vicinity

of the camp, holding blazing torches behind the mask, and emitting

strange noises--sometimes howling like a wolf and at others shouting

aloud in my natural voice. On these occasions the blacks thought I was

in my natural element as a spirit. But they never ventured to follow me

or attempted to satisfy themselves that I was not fooling them all the

while. Yamba, of course, knew the joke, and as a rule helped me to dress

for the farce, but she took good care never to tell any one the secret.

No doubt had the blacks ever learned that it was all done for effect on

my part, the result would have been very serious; but I knew I was pretty

secure because of the abnormal superstition prevalent among them.

The women, as I have before hinted, are treated in a horribly cruel

manner, judged from our standpoint; but in reality they know not what

cruelty is, because they are absolutely ignorant of kindness. They are

the beasts of burden, to be felled to the earth with a bludgeon when they

err in some trivial respect; and when camp is moved each woman carries

virtually the whole household and the entire worldly belongings of the

family. Thus it is a common sight to see a woman carrying a load

consisting of one or two children and a quantity of miscellaneous

implements, such as heavy grindstones, stone hatchets, sewing-bones, yam-

sticks, &c. During the shifting of the camp the braves themselves stalk

along practically unencumbered, save only for their elaborate shield,

three spears (never more), and a stone tomahawk stuck in their belt of

woven opossum hair. The men do not smoke, knowing nothing of tobacco,

but their principal recreation and relaxation from the incessant hunting

consists in the making of their war weapons, which is a very important

part of their daily life. They will even fell a whole tree, as has

already been explained, to make a single spear shaft. As to the shield,

the elaborate carving upon it corresponds closely with the prowess of the

owner; and the more laurels he gains, the more intricate and elaborate

becomes the carving on his shield. Honour prevents undue pretence.

But we have wandered away from the consideration of the girl-children.

The baby girls play with their brothers and participate in their fights

until they are perhaps ten years of age. They are then expected to

accompany their mothers on the daily excursions in search of roots. When

the little girls are first taken out by their mothers they are instructed

in the use of the yam-stick, with which the roots are dug up out of the

earth. The stick used by the women is generally three feet or four feet

long, but the girl novices use a short one about fifteen inches in

length. Each woman, as I have said elsewhere, is also provided with a

reed basket or net, in which to hold the roots, this being usually woven

out of strings of prepared bark; or, failing that, native flax or palm

straw.

But the unfortunate wife occasionally makes the acquaintance of the heavy

yam-stick in a very unpleasant, not to say serious, manner. Of course,

there are domestic rows. We will suppose that the husband has lately

paid a great amount of attention to one of his younger wives--a

circumstance which naturally gives great offence to one of the older

women. This wife, when she has an opportunity and is alone with her

husband, commences to sing or chant a plaint--a little thing of quite her

own composing.

Into this song she weaves all the abuse which long experience tells her

will lash her husband up to boiling-point. The later stanzas complain

that the singer has been taken from her own home among a nation of real

warriors to live among a gang of skulking cowards, whose hearts, livers,

and other vital organs are not at all up to the standard of her people.

The epithets are carefully arranged up a scale until they reach _bandy-

legged_--an utterly unpardonable insult. But there is, beyond this, one

other unpublishable remark, which causes the husband to take up the yam-

stick and fell the singer with one tremendous blow, which is frequently

so serious as to disable her for many days. The other women at once see

to their sister, who has incurred the wrath of her lord, and rub her

wounds with weird medicaments. The whole shocking business is regarded

as quite an ordinary affair; and after the sufferer is able to get about

again she bears her husband not the slightest ill-feeling. You see, she

has had her say and paid for it.

The girls, as they grow up, are taught to cook according to the native

fashion, and are also required to build ovens in the earth or sand; make

the fires, build "break-winds," and generally help their mothers in

preparing meals. When at length the meal is cooked, the manner of eating

it is very peculiar. First of all, the women retire into the background.

The lord and master goes and picks out the tit-bits for himself, and then

sits down to eat them off a small sheet of bark. More often, however, he

simply tears the meat in pieces with his hands. During his meal, the

wives and children are collected behind at a respectful distance,

awaiting their own share. Then, as the warrior eats, he literally hurls

certain oddments over his shoulder, which are promptly pounced upon by

the wives and children in waiting. It sometimes happens, however, that a

favourite child--a boy invariably, never a girl (it is the girls who are

eaten by the parents whenever there are any superfluous children to be

got rid of)--will approach his father and be fed with choice morsels from

the great man's "plate."

Each tribe has its own particular country over which it roams at

pleasure, and the boundaries are defined by trees, hillocks, mountains,

rocks, creeks, and water-holes. And from these natural features the

tribes occasionally get their names. Outside the tribal boundary--which

often incloses a vast area--the blacks never go, except on a friendly

visit to a neighbouring camp. Poaching is one of the things punishable

with death, and even if any woman is caught hunting for food in another

country she is seized and punished. I will tell you later on how even

Yamba "put her foot" in it in this way.

The blacks are marvellously clever at tracking a man by his footprints,

and a poacher from a neighbouring tribe never escapes their vigilance,

even though he succeeds in returning to his own people without being

actually captured. So assiduously do these blacks study the footprints

of people they know and are friendly with, that they can tell at once

whether the trespasser is an enemy or not; and if it be a stranger, a

punitive expedition is at once organised against his tribe.

Gradually I came to think that each man's track must have an

individuality about it quite as remarkable as the finger-prints

investigated by Galton and Bertillon. The blacks could even tell a man's

name and many other things about him, solely from his tracks--how, it is

of course impossible for me to say. I have often known my blacks to

follow a man's track _over hard rocks_, where even a disturbed leaf

proved an infallible clue, yielding a perfectly miraculous amount of

information. They will know whether a leaf has been turned over by the

wind or by human agency!

But to continue my narrative. Yamba was very anxious that I should stay

and make my home among her people, and so, with the assistance of other

women, she built me a substantial beehive-shaped hut, fully twenty feet

in diameter and ten feet high. She pointed out to me earnestly that I

had everything I could possibly wish for, and that I might be a very

great man indeed in the country if only I would take a prominent part in

the affairs of the tribe. She also mentioned that so great was my

prowess and prestige, that if I wished I might take unto myself a whole

army of wives!--the number of wives being the sole token of greatness

among these people. You see they had to be fed, and that implied many

great attributes of skill and strength. Nevertheless, I pined for

civilisation, and never let a day go by without scanning the bay and the

open sea for a passing sail. The natives told me they had seen ships at

various times, and that attempts had even been made to reach them in

catamarans, but without success, so far out at sea were the vessels

passing.

Gradually, about nine months after my strange return to my Cambridge Gulf

home, there came a time when life became so monotonous that I felt I

_must_ have a change of some sort, or else go mad. I was on the very

best of terms with all my blacks, but their mode of living was repulsive

to me. I began to loathe the food, and the horrible cruelty to the women

frequently sickened me. Whenever I saw one of these poor patient

creatures felled, bleeding, to the earth, I felt myself being worked up

into a state of dangerous nervous excitement, and I longed to challenge

the brutal assailant as a murderous enemy. Each time, however, I sternly

compelled myself to restrain my feelings. At length the spirit of unrest

grew so strong that I determined to try a short trip inland in a

direction I had never hitherto attempted. I intended to cross the big

bay in my dug-out, round Cape Londonderry, and then go south among the

beautiful islands down past Admiralty Gulf, which I had previously

explored during my residence on the Cape, and where I had found food and

water abundant; numerous caves, with mural paintings; quiet seas, and

gorgeous vegetation. Yamba willingly consented to accompany me, and one

day I set off on the sea once more, my faithful wife by my side, carrying

her net full of odds and ends, and I with my bow and arrows, tomahawk,

and stiletto; the two latter carried in my belt. I hoped to come across

a ship down among the islands, for my natives told me that several had

passed while I was away.

At length we started off in our dug-out, the sea being perfectly

calm--more particularly in the early morning, when the tide was generally

with us. After several days' paddling we got into a narrow passage

between a long elevated island and the main, and from there found our way

into an inlet, at the head of which appeared masses of wild and rugged

rocks. These rocks were, in many places, decorated with a number of

crude but striking mural paintings, which were protected from the

weather. The drawings I found represented men chiefly. My own

contributions consisted of life-size sketches of my wife, myself, and

Bruno. I emphasised my long hair, and also reproduced my bow and arrow.

This queer "art gallery" was well lighted, and the rock smooth. We found

the spot a very suitable one for camping; in fact, there were indications

on all sides that the place was frequently used by the natives as a

camping-ground. A considerable quantity of bark lay strewn about the

ground in sheets, which material my wife told me was used by the natives

as bedding. This was the first time I had known the black-fellows to use

any material in this way. I also came across traces of a feast--such as

empty oyster shells in very large heaps, bones of animals, &c. The

waters of the inlet were exceedingly well stocked with fish; and here I

saw large crayfish for the first time. I caught and roasted some, and

found them very good eating. This inlet might possibly be in the

vicinity of Montague Sound, a little to the south of Admiralty Gulf.

We stayed a couple of days in this beautiful spot, and then pushed down

south again, always keeping close under shelter of the islands on account

of our frail craft. The seas through which we paddled were studded with

innumerable islands, some rocky and barren, others covered with

magnificent foliage and grass. We landed on several of these, and on

one--it might have been Bigges Island--I discovered a high cairn or mound

of stones erected on the most prominent point. Yamba told me that this

structure was not the work of a native. She explained that the stones

were laid too regularly. A closer examination convinced me that the

cairn had been built by some European--possibly a castaway--and that at

one time it had probably been surmounted by a flag-staff as a signal to

passing ships. Food was very plentiful on this island, roots and yams

being obtainable in great abundance. Rock wallabies were also plentiful.

After leaving this island we continued our journey south, paddling only

during the day, and always with the tide, and spending the night on land.

By the way, whilst among the islands, I came across, at various times,

many sad signs of civilisation, in the form of a lower mast of a ship,

and a deck-house, a wicker-basket, empty brandy cases, and other flotsam

and jetsam, which, I supposed, had come from various wrecks. After

having been absent from my home in Cambridge Gulf, two or three months, I

found myself in a large bay, which I now know to be King's Sound. I had

come across many tribes of natives on my way down. Some I met were on

the islands on which we landed, and others on the mainland. Most of

these black-fellows knew me both personally and by repute, many having

been present at the great whale feast. The natives at King's Sound

recognised me, and gave me a hearty invitation to stay with them at their

camp. This I consented to do, and my friends then promised to set all

the other tribes along the coast on the look-out for passing vessels, so

that I might immediately be informed by smoke-signals when one was in

sight. Not long after this came an item of news which thrilled me

through and through.

One of the chiefs told me quite casually that at another tribe, some

days' journey away, the chief had TWO WHITE WIVES. They had, he went on

to explain, a skin and hair exactly like my own; but in spite of even

this assurance, after the first shock of amazement I felt confident that

the captives were Malays. The news of their presence among the tribe in

question was a well-known fact all along the coast of King's Sound. My

informant had never actually _seen_ the white women, but he was

absolutely certain of their existence. He added that the captives had

been seized after a fight with some white men, who had come to that coast

in a "big catamaran." However, I decided to go and see for myself what

manner of women they were. The canoe was beached well above the reach of

the tides at Cone Bay, and then, accompanied by Yamba only, I set off

overland on my quest. The region of the encampment towards which I now

directed my steps lies between the Lennard River and the Fitzroy. The

exact spot, as near as I can fix it on the chart, is a place called

Derby, at the head of King's Sound. As we advanced the country became

very rugged and broken, with numerous creeks intersecting it in every

direction. Farther on, however, it developed into a rich, low-lying,

park-like region, with water in abundance. To the north-west appeared

elevated ranges. I came across many fine specimens of the bottle tree.

The blacks encamped at Derby were aware of my coming visit, having had

the news forwarded to them by means of the universal smoke-signals.

The camp described by my informant I found to be a mere collection of

gunyahs, or break-winds, made of boughs, and I at once presented my

"card"--the ubiquite passport stick; which never left me for a moment in

all my wanderings. This stick was sent to the chief, who immediately

manifested tokens of friendship towards me.

Unfortunately, however, he spoke an entirely different dialect from

Yamba's; but by means of the sign language I explained to him that I

wished to stay with him for a few "sleeps" (hand held to the side of the

head, with fingers for numbers), and partake of his hospitality. To this

he readily consented.

Now, I knew enough of the customs of the blacks to realise that, being a

stranger among them, they would on request provide me with additional

wives during my stay,--entirely as a matter of ceremonial etiquette; and

it suddenly occurred to me that I might make very good use of this custom

by putting in an immediate demand for the two white women--if they

existed. You see, I wanted an interview with them, in the first place,

to arrange the best means of getting them away. I confess I was consumed

with an intense curiosity to learn their history--even to see them. I

wondered if they could tell me anything of the great world now so remote

in my mind. As a matter of courtesy, however, I spent the greater part

of the day with the chief, for any man who manifests a desire for women's

society loses caste immediately; and in the evening, when the fact of my

presence among the tribe had become more extensively known, and their

curiosity aroused by the stories that Yamba had taken care to circulate,

I attended a great _corroboree_, which lasted nearly the whole of the

night. As I was sitting near a big fire, joining in the chanting and

festivities, Yamba noiselessly stole to my side, and whispered in my ear

that _she had found the two white women_.

I remember I trembled with excitement at the prospect of meeting them.

They were very young, Yamba added, and spoke "my" language--I never said

"English," because this word would have conveyed nothing to her; and she

also told me that the prisoners were in a dreadful state of misery. It

was next explained to me that the girls, according to native custom, were

the absolute property of the chief. He was seated not very far away from

me, and was certainly one of the most ferocious and repulsive-looking

creatures I have ever come across,--even among the blacks. He was over

six feet high, and of rather a lighter complexion than his

fellows,--almost like a Malay. The top of his head receded in a very

curious manner, whilst the mouth and lower part of the face generally

protruded like an alligator's, and gave him a truly diabolical

appearance. I confess a thrill of horror passed through me, as I

realised that two doubtless tenderly reared English girls were in the

clutches of this monster. Once I thought I must have been dreaming, and

that the memories of some old story-book I had read years ago were

filling my mind with some fantastic delusion. For a moment I pictured to

myself the feelings of their prosaic British relatives, could they only

have known what had become of the long-lost loved ones--a fate more

shocking and more fearful than any ever conceived by the writer of

fiction. Of course, my readers will understand that much detail about

the fate of these poor creatures must be suppressed for obvious reasons.

But should any existing relatives turn up, I shall be only too happy to

place at their disposal all the information I possess.

Presently, I grasped the whole terrible affair, and realised it as

absolute fact! My first impulse was to leap from the _corroboree_ and go

and reassure the unhappy victims in person, telling them at the same time

that they might count on my assistance to the last. It was not

advisable, however, to withdraw suddenly from the festivities, for fear

my absence might arouse suspicion.

The only alternative that presented itself was to send a note or message

of some kind to them, and so I asked Yamba to bring me a large fleshy

leaf of a water-lily, and then, with one of her bone needles, I pricked,

in printed English characters, "_A friend is near_; _fear not_." Handing

this original letter to Yamba, I instructed her to give it to the girls

and tell them to hold it up before the fire and read the perforations.

This done, I returned to the _corroboree_, still displaying a feigned

enthusiasm for the proceedings, but determined upon a bold and resolute

course of action. I must say though, that at that particular moment I

was not very sanguine of getting the girls away out of the power of this

savage, who had doubtless won them from some of his fellows by more or

less fair fighting.

I made my way over to where the chief was squatting, and gazed at him

long and steadily. I remember his appearance as though it were but

yesterday that we met. I think I have already said he was the most

repulsive-looking savage I have ever come across, even among the

Australian blacks. The curious raised scars were upon this particular

chief both large and numerous. This curious form of decoration, by the

way, is a very painful business. The general practice is to make

transverse cuts with a sharp shell, or stone knife, on the chest, thighs,

and sometimes on the back and shoulders. Ashes and earth are then rubbed

into each cut, and the wound is left to close. Next comes an extremely

painful gathering and swelling, and a little later the earth that is

inside is gradually removed--sometimes with a feather. When the wounds

finally heal up, each cicatrice stands out like a raised weal, and of

these extraordinary marks the blacks are inordinately proud.

But to return to the chief who owned the girls. I must say that, apart

from his awful and obviously stubborn face, he was a magnificently formed

savage.

I commenced the conversation with him by saying, I presumed the usual

courtesy of providing a wife would be extended to me during my stay. As

I anticipated, he readily acquiesced, and I instantly followed up the

concession by calmly remarking that I should like to have the two white

women who were in the camp sent over to my "little place." To this

suggestion he gave a point-blank refusal. I persisted, however, and

taunted him with deliberately breaking the inviolable rules of courtesy;

and at length he gave me to understand he would think the matter over.

All this time Yamba had been as busy as a showman out West. She had

followed with unusual vigour her customary _role_ of "advance agent," and

had spread most ridiculously exaggerated reports of my supernatural

prowess and magical attributes. I controlled the denizens of Spiritland,

and could call them up in thousands to torment the blacks. I controlled

the elements; and was in short all-powerful.

I must admit that this energetic and systematic "puffing" did a great

deal of good, and wherever we went I was looked upon as a sort of wizard,

entitled to very great respect, and the best of everything that was

going.

For a long time the tribal chief persisted in his opposition to my

request for the girls; but as most of his warriors were in my favour (I

had given many appalling demonstrations in the bush at night), I knew he

would submit sooner or later. The big _corroboree_ lasted all night, and

at length, before we separated on the second day, the great man gave

way--with exceedingly bad grace. Of course, I did not disturb the girls

at that hour, but next day I told Yamba to go and see them and arrange

for an interview. She came back pretty soon, and then undertook to guide

me to their "abode." The prospect of meeting white people once more--even

these two poor unfortunates--threw me into a strange excitement, in the

midst of which I quite forgot my own astonishing appearance, which was

far more like that of a gaily decorated and gorgeously painted native

chief than a civilised European. For it must be remembered that by this

time I had long ago discarded all clothing, except an apron of emu

feathers, whilst my skin was extremely dark and my hair hung down my back

fully three feet, and was built up in a surprising way in times of war

and _corroboree_.

I followed Yamba through the camp, getting more and more excited as we

approached the girls' domicile. At length she stopped at the back of a

crescent-shaped break-wind of boughs, and a moment later--eager,

trembling, and almost speechless--I stood before the two English girls.

Looking back now, I remember they presented a truly pitiable spectacle.

They were huddled together on the sandy ground, naked, and locked in one

another's arms. Before them burned a fire, which was tended by the

women. Both looked frightfully emaciated and terrified--so much so, that

as I write these words my heart beats faster with horror as I recall the

terrible impression they made upon me. As they caught sight of me, they

screamed aloud in terror. I retired a little way discomfited,

remembering suddenly my own fantastic appearance. Of course, they

thought I was another black fellow coming to torture them. All kinds of

extraordinary reflections flashed through my mind at that moment. What

would people in my beloved France, I wondered--or among my Swiss

mountains, or in stately England--think of the fate that had overtaken

these girls--a fate that would infallibly read more like extravagant and

even offensive fiction than real, heart-rending fact?

I went back and stood before the girls, saying, reassuringly, "Ladies, I

am a white man and a friend; and if you will only trust in me I think I

can save you."

Their amazement at this little speech knew no bounds, and one of the

girls became quite hysterical. I called Yamba, and introduced her as my

wife, and they then came forward and clasped me by the hand, crying,

shudderingly, "Oh, save us! Take us away from that fearful brute."

I hastily explained to them that it was solely because I had resolved to

save them that I had ventured into the camp; but they would have to wait

patiently until circumstances favoured my plans for their escape. I did

not conceal from them that my being able to take them away at all was

extremely problematical; for I could see that to have raised false hopes

would have ended in real disaster. Gradually they became quieter and

more reasonable--and my position obviously more embarrassing. I quickly

told them that, at any rate, so long as I remained in the camp, they need

not fear any further visits from the giant chief they dreaded so much,

and with this reassurance I walked swiftly away, followed by Yamba.

The laws of native hospitality absolutely forbade any one to interfere

with the girls during my stay, so, easy in my mind, I made straight for

the extensive swamps which I knew lay a few miles from the camp. In this

wild and picturesque place I brought down, with Yamba's assistance, a

great number of cockatoos, turkeys, and other wild fowl, which birds were

promptly skinned, my wife and I having in view a little amateur tailoring

which should render my future interviews with the girls a little less

embarrassing. As a matter of fact, I handed over the bird-skins to

Yamba, and she, with her bone needles and threads of kangaroo sinews,

soon made a couple of extraordinary but most serviceable garments, which

we immediately took back to the poor girls, who were shivering with cold

and neglect. I at once saw the reason of most of their suffering.

Their own clothing had apparently been lost or destroyed, and the native

women, jealous of the attention which the chief was bestowing upon the

newcomers, gave them little or no food. Nor did the jealous wives

instruct the interlopers in the anointing of their bodies with that

peculiar kind of clay which forms so effective a protection alike against

the burning heat of the sun, the treacherous cold of the night-winds, and

the painful attacks of insects. All the information I could elicit from

the girls that evening was the fact that they had been shipwrecked, and

had already been captive among the blacks for three and a half months.

The elder girl further said that they were not allowed their liberty,

because they had on several occasions tried to put an end to their

indescribable sufferings by committing suicide. Anything more

extraordinary than the costumes we made for the girls you never saw. They

were not of elaborate design, being of the shape of a long sack, with

holes for the arms and neck; and they afterwards shrank in the most

absurd way.

CHAPTER X

Miss Rogers begins her story--An interview on the high seas--Drifting to

destruction--The ship disappears--Tortured by thirst--A fearful

sight--Cannibals on the watch--The blacks quarrel over the girls--Courting

starvation--Yamba goes for help--A startling announcement--Preparations

for the fight--Anxious moments--A weird situation--"Victory, victory"--A

melodramatic attitude--The girls get sore feet.

At our next interview, thanks to Yamba's good offices, both girls were

looking very much better than when I first saw them; and then, consumed

with natural curiosity and a great desire to learn something of the

outside world, I begged them to tell me their story.

The first thing I learnt was that they were two sisters, named Blanche

and Gladys Rogers, their respective ages being nineteen and seventeen

years. Both girls were extremely pretty, the particular attraction about

Gladys being her lovely violet eyes. It was Blanche who, with much

hysterical emotion, told me the story of their painful experience, Gladys

occasionally prompting her sister with a few interpolated words.

Here, then, is Blanche Rogers's story, told as nearly as possible in her

own words. Of course it is absurd to suppose that I can reproduce

_verbatim_ the fearful story told by the unfortunate girl.

"My sister and I are the daughters of Captain Rogers, who commanded a 700-

ton barque owned by our uncle." [I am not absolutely certain whether the

girls were the daughters of the captain or the owner.--L. de R.] "We

were always very anxious, even as children, to accompany our dear father

on one of his long trips, and at length we induced him to take us with

him when he set sail from Sunderland [not certain, this] in the year 1868

[or 1869], with a miscellaneous cargo bound for Batavia [or Singapore].

The voyage out was a very pleasant one, but practically without

incident--although, of course, full of interest to us. The ship

delivered her freight in due course, but our father failed to obtain a

return cargo to take back with him to England. Now, as a cargo of some

kind was necessary to clear the expenses of the voyage, father decided to

make for Port Louis, in Mauritius, to see what he could do among the

sugar-exporters there.

"On the way to Port Louis, we suddenly sighted a ship flying signals of

distress. We at once hove to and asked what assistance we could render.

A boat presently put off from the distressed vessel, and the captain, who

came aboard, explained that he had run short of provisions and wanted a

fresh supply--no matter how small--to tide him over his difficulty. He

further stated that his vessel was laden with guano, and was also _en

route_ for Port Louis. The two captains had a long conversation

together, in the course of which an arrangement was arrived at between

them.

"We said we were in ballast, searching for freight, whereupon our visitor

said: 'Why don't you make for the Lacepede Islands, off the north-west

Australian coast, and load guano, which you can get there for nothing?'

We said we did not possess the necessary requisites in the shape of

shovels, sacks, punts, wheel-barrows, and the like. These were promptly

supplied by the other captain in part payment for the provisions we let

him have. Thus things were eventually arranged to the entire

satisfaction of both parties, and then the _Alexandria_ (I think that was

the name of the ship) proceeded on her way to Port Louis, whilst we

directed our course to the Lacepede Islands.

"In due time we reached a guano islet, and the crew quickly got to work,

with the result that in a very short time we had a substantial cargo on

board. A day or two before we were due to leave, we went to father and

told him we wanted very much to spend an evening on the island to visit

the turtle-breeding ground. Poor father, indulgent always, allowed us to

go ashore in a boat, under the care of eight men, who were to do a little

clearing-up whilst they were waiting for us. We found, as you may

suppose, a great deal to interest us on the island, and the time passed

all too quickly. The big turtles came up with the full tide, and at once

made nests for themselves on the beach by scraping out with their hind-

flippers a hole about ten inches deep and five inches in diameter. The

creatures then simply lay over these holes and dropped their eggs into

them. We learned that the number of eggs laid at one sitting varies from

twelve up to forty. We had great fun in collecting the eggs and

generally playing with the turtles. I am afraid we got out of sight of

the men, and did not notice that the weather showed decided signs of a

sudden change. When at length the crew found us it was past

midnight--though not very dark; and though we ought to have been making

preparations for returning to the ship, it was blowing hard. On account

of this, the crew said they did not consider it advisable to launch the

boat; and as we had our big cloaks with us, it was decided to remain on

the island all night to see if the weather improved by the morning. Our

ship was anchored fully three miles away, outside the reefs, and it would

have been impossible, in the sea that was running, to pull out to her.

There was only one white man among our protectors, and he was a

Scotchman. The men made a fire in a more or less sheltered spot, and

round this we squatted, the men outside us, so as to afford us greater

protection from the storm.

In this way the whole night passed, principally in telling stories of

adventure by sea and land. We all hoped that by morning at any rate the

wind would have abated; but at daybreak, as we looked anxiously out over

the tempestuous sea, it was blowing as hard as ever; and by ten o'clock

the storm had increased to a terrific gale. Our men unanimously declared

they dared not attempt to reach the ship in their small boat, although we

could see the vessel plainly riding at her old anchorage. What followed

Gladys and I gathered afterwards, just before the dreadful thing

happened. We were all safe enough on land, but, it became evident to the

sailors with us that the ship could not weather the storm unless she

weighed anchor and stood out to sea. The crew watched with eager eyes to

see what my father would do. Manifestly he was in too much distress of

mind about us to go right away, and I suppose he preferred to trust to

the strength of his cables:

"Shortly after ten o'clock in the morning, however, the ship began to

drag her anchors, and in spite of all that could be done by my father and

his officers, the shapely little vessel gradually drifted on to the coral

reefs. All this time Gladys and I, quite ignorant of seamanship and

everything pertaining to it, were watching the doomed ship, and from time

to time asked anxiously what was the meaning of all the excitement. The

men returned us evasive answers, like the kind-hearted fellows they were,

and cheered us up in every possible way. Presently we heard signals of

distress (only we didn't know they were signals of distress then), and

our companions saw that the captain realised only too well his terribly

dangerous position. It was, however, utterly impossible for them to have

rendered him any assistance. The rain was now descending in sheets,

lashing the giant waves with a curious hissing sound. The sky was gloomy

and overcast, and altogether the outlook was about as terrible as it

could well be. Presently we became dreadfully anxious about our father;

but when the sailors saw that the ship was apparently going to pieces,

they induced us to return to the camp fire and sit there till the end was

past. By this time the barque was being helplessly buffeted about

amongst the reefs, a little less than a mile and a half from shore.

"Suddenly, as we afterwards learnt, she gave a lurch and completely

disappeared beneath the turbulent waters, without even her mastheads

being left standing to show where she had gone down. She had evidently

torn a huge hole in her side in one of her collisions with the jagged

reefs, for she sank with such rapidity that not one of the boats could be

launched, and not a single member of the crew escaped--so far as we

knew--save only those who were with us on the island. The loss of the

ship was, of course, a terrible blow to our valiant protectors, who were

now left absolutely dependent on their own resources to provide food and

means of escape. Thus passed a dreadful day and night, the men always

keeping us ignorant of what had happened. They resolved to make for Port

Darwin, on the mainland of Australia, which was believed to be quite

near; for we had no water, there being none on the guano island. The

interval was spent in collecting turtles' eggs and sea-fowl, which were

intended as provisions for the journey. Next morning the storm had quite

abated, and gradually the stupefying news was communicated to us that our

father and his ship had gone down with all hands in the night. Indeed,

these kind and gentle men told us the whole story of their hopes and

doubts and fears, together with every detail of the terrible tragedy of

the sea that had left us in such a fearful situation. No one needs to be

told our feelings.

"Shortly before noon next day the sail was hoisted; we took our places in

the boat, and soon were rippling pleasantly through the now placid

waters, leaving the guano island far behind. The wind being in our

favour, very satisfactory progress was made for many hours; but at

length, tortured by thirst, it was decided to land on the mainland or the

first island we sighted, and lay in a stock of water--if it was

obtainable. Gladys and I welcomed the idea of landing, because by this

time we were in quite a disreputable condition, not having washed for

several days. It was our intention, while the crews were getting water

and food, to retire to the other side of the island, behind the rocks,

and there have a nice bath. The boat was safely beached, and there being

no signs of natives anywhere in the vicinity, the men soon laid in a

stock of water without troubling to go very far inland for it. My sister

and I at once retired several hundred yards away, and there undressed and

went into the water.

"We had scarcely waded out past our waists when, to our unspeakable

horror, a crowd of naked blacks, hideously painted and armed with spears,

came rushing down the cliffs towards us, yelling and whooping in a way I

am never likely to forget. They seemed to rise out of the very rocks

themselves; and I really think we imagined we were going mad, and that

the whole appalling vision was a fearful dream, induced by the dreadful

state of our nerves. My own heart seemed to stand still with terror, and

the only description I can give of my sensations was that I felt

absolutely paralysed. At length, when the yelling monsters were quite

close to us, we realised the actual horror of it all, and screaming

frantically, tried to dash out of the water towards the spot where we had

left our clothes. But some of the blacks intercepted us, and we saw one

man deliberately making off with the whole of our wearing apparel.

"Of course, when the boat's crew heard the uproar they rushed to our

assistance, but when they were about twenty yards from our assailants,

the blacks sent a volley of spears among them with such amazing effect

that every one of the sailors fell prostrate to the earth. The aim of

the blacks was wonderfully accurate.

"Some of our men, however, managed to struggle to their feet again, in a

heroic but vain endeavour to reach our side; but these poor fellows were

at once butchered in the most shocking manner by the natives, who wielded

their big waddies or clubs with the most sickening effect. Indeed, so

heart-rending and horrible was the tragedy enacted before our eyes, that

for a long time afterwards we scarcely knew what was happening to us, so

dazed with horror were we. For myself, I have a faint recollection of

being dragged across the island by the natives, headed by the hideous and

gigantic chief who afterwards claimed us as his 'wives.' We were next

put on board a large catamaran, our hands and feet having been previously

tied with hair cords; and we were then rowed over to the mainland, which

was only a few miles away. We kept on asking by signs that our clothing

might be returned to us, but the blacks tore the various garments into

long strips before our eyes, and wrapped the rags about their heads by

way of ornament. We reached the encampment of the black-fellows late

that same evening, and were at once handed over to the charge of the

women, who kept us close prisoners and--so far as we could judge--abused

us in the most violent manner. Of course, I don't know exactly what

their language meant, but I do know that they treated us shamefully, and

struck us from time to time. I gathered that they were jealous of the

attention shown to us by the big chief.

"We afterwards learnt that the island on which the terrible tragedy took

place was not really inhabited, but the blacks on the coast had, it

appeared, seen our boat far out at sea, and watched it until we landed

for water. They waited a little while in order to lull the crew into a

sense of fancied security, and then, without another moment's delay,

crossed over to the island and descended upon us.

"We passed a most wretched night. Never--never can I hope to describe

our awful feelings. We suffered intensely from the cold, being perfectly

naked. We were not, however, molested by any of our captors. But horror

was to be piled on horror's head, for the next day a party of the blacks

returned to the island and brought back the dead bodies of all the

murdered sailors. At first we wondered why they went to this trouble;

and when, at length, it dawned upon us that a great cannibal feast was in

preparation, I think we fainted away.

"We did not actually see the cooking operations, but the odour of burning

flesh was positively intolerable; and we saw women pass our little grass

shelters carrying some human arms and legs, which were doubtless their

own families' portions. I thought we should both have gone mad, but

notwithstanding this, we did keep our reason. Our position, however, was

so revolting and so ghastly, that we tried to put an end to our lives by

strangling ourselves with a rope made of plaited grass. But we were

prevented from carrying out our purpose by the women-folk, who thereafter

kept a strict watch over us. It seemed to me, so embarrassing were the

attentions of the women, that these pitiable but cruel creatures were

warned by the chief that, if anything befell us, they themselves would

get into dire trouble. All this time, I could not seem to think or

concentrate my mind on the events that had happened. I acted

mechanically, and I am absolutely certain that neither Gladys nor myself

realised our appalling position.

"In the meantime, it seems, a most sanguinary fight had taken place among

four of the principal blacks who had assisted in the attack upon our

sailors, the object of the fight being to decide who should take

possession of us.

"One night we managed to slip out of the camp without attracting the

notice of the women, and at once rushed down to the beach, intending to

throw ourselves into the water, and so end a life which was far worse

than death. We were, unfortunately, missed, and just as we were getting

beyond our depth a party of furious blacks rushed down to the shore,

waded out into the water and brought as out.

"After this incident our liberty was curtailed altogether, and we were

moved away. The women were plainly told--so we gathered--that if

anything happened to us, death, and nothing less, would be their portion.

Now that we could no longer leave the little break-wind that sheltered

us, we spent the whole of our time in prayer--mainly for death to release

us from our agonies. I was surprised to see that the women themselves,

though nude, were not much affected by the intense cold that prevailed at

times, but we afterwards learnt that they anointed their naked bodies

with a kind of greasy clay, which formed a complete coating all over

their bodies. During the ensuing three months the tribe constantly moved

their camp, and we were always taken about by our owner and treated with

the most shocking brutality. The native food, which consisted of roots,

kangaroo flesh, snakes, caterpillars, and the like, was utterly loathsome

to us, and for several days we absolutely refused to touch it, in the

hope that we might die of starvation.

"Finally, however, the blacks compelled us to swallow some mysterious-

looking meat, under threats of torture from those dreadful fire-sticks.

You will not be surprised to learn that, though life became an

intolerable burden to us, yet, for the most part, we obeyed our captors

submissively. At the same time, I ought to tell you that now and again

we disobeyed deliberately, and did our best to lash the savages into a

fury, hoping that they would spear us or kill us with their clubs. Our

sole shelter was a break-wind of boughs with a fire in front. The days

passed agonisingly by; and when I tell you that every hour--nay, every

moment--was a crushing torture, you will understand what that phrase

means. We grew weaker and weaker, and, I believe, more emaciated. We

became delirious and hysterical, and more and more insensible to the cold

and hunger. No doubt death would soon have come to our relief had you

not arrived in time to save us."

* * * * *

This, then, was the fearful story which the unfortunate Misses Rogers had

to tell. The more I thought it over, the more I realised that no

Englishwomen had ever lived to tell so dreadful an experience. I

compared their story with mine, and felt how different it was. I was a

man, and a power in the land from the very first--treated with the

greatest consideration and respect by all the tribes. And, poor things,

they were terribly despondent when I explained to them that it was

impossible for me to take them right away at once. Had I attempted to do

so surreptitiously, I should have outraged the sacred laws of

hospitality, and brought the whole tribe about my ears and theirs.

Besides, I had fixed upon a plan of my own; and, as the very fact of my

presence in the camp was sufficient protection for the girls, I implored

them to wait patiently and trust in me.

That very night I called Yamba to me and despatched her to a friendly

tribe we had encountered in the King Leopold Ranges--perhaps three days'

journey away. I instructed her to tell these blacks that I was in great

danger, and, therefore, stood in need of a body of warriors, who ought to

be sent off immediately to my assistance. They knew me much better than

I did them. They had feasted on the whale. As I concluded my message, I

looked into Yamba's eyes and told her the case was desperate. Her dear

eyes glowed in the firelight, and I saw that she was determined to do or

die. I trusted implicitly in her fertility of resource and her

extraordinary intelligence.

In a few days she returned, and told me that everything had been

arranged, and a body of armed warriors would presently arrive in the

vicinity of the camp, ready to place themselves absolutely at my service.

And sure enough, a few days later twenty stalwart warriors made their

appearance at the spot indicated by Yamba; but as I did not consider the

force quite large enough for my purpose, I sent some of them back with

another message asking for reinforcements, and saying that the great

white chief was in danger. Finally, when I felt pretty confident of my

position, I marched boldly forward into the camp with my warriors, to the

unbounded amazement of the whole tribe with whose chief I was sojourning.

He taxed me with having deceived him when I said I was alone, and he also

accused me of outraging the laws of hospitality by bringing a party of

warriors, obviously hostile, into his presence.

I wilfully ignored all these points, and calmly told him I had been

thinking over the way in which he had acquired the two white girls, and

had come to the conclusion that he had no right to them at all.

Therefore, I continued airily, it was my intention to take them away

forthwith. I pointed out to the repulsive giant that he had not obtained

the girls by fair means, and if he objected to my taking them away, it

was open to him, according to custom, to sustain his claim to ownership

by fighting me for the "property."

Now, these blacks are neither demonstrative nor intelligent, but I think

I never saw any human being so astonished in the whole of my life. It

dawned upon him presently, however, that I was not joking, and then his

amazement gave place to the most furious anger. He promptly accepted my

challenge, greatly to the delight of all the warriors in his own tribe,

with whom he was by no means popular. But, of course, the anticipation

of coming sport had something to do with their glee at the acceptance of

the challenge. The big man was as powerful in build as he was ugly, and

the moment he opened his mouth I realised that for once Yamba had gone

too far in proclaiming my prodigious valour. He said he had heard about

my wonderful "flying-spears," and declined to fight me if I used such

preternatural weapons. It was therefore arranged _that we should

wrestle_--the one who overthrew the other twice out of three times to be

declared the victor. I may say that this was entirely my suggestion, as

I had always loved trick wrestling when at school, and even had a special

tutor for that purpose--M. Viginet, an agile little Parisian, living in

Geneva. He was a Crimean veteran. The rank-and-file of the warriors,

however, did not look upon this suggestion with much favour, as they

thought it was not paying proper respect to my wonderful powers. I

assured them I was perfectly satisfied, and begged them to let the

contest proceed.

Then followed one of the most extraordinary combats on record. Picture

to yourself, if you can, the agony of mind of poor little Blanche and

Gladys Rogers during the progress of the fight; and also imagine the

painful anxiety with which I went in to win.

A piece of ground about twenty feet square was lightly marked out by the

blacks with their waddies, and the idea was that, to accomplish a throw,

the wrestler had to hurl his opponent clean outside the boundary. We

prepared for the combat by covering our bodies with grease; and I had my

long hair securely tied up into a kind of "chignon" at the back of my

head. My opponent was a far bigger man than myself, but I felt pretty

confident in my ability as a trick wrestler, and did not fear meeting

him. What I did fear, however, was that he would dispute the findings of

the umpires if they were in my favour, in which case there might be

trouble. I had a shrewd suspicion that the chief was something of a

coward at heart. He seemed nervous and anxious, and I saw him talking

eagerly with his principal supporter. As for myself, I constantly dwelt

upon the ghastly plight of the two poor girls. I resolved that, with

God's help, I would vanquish my huge enemy and rescue them from their

dreadful position. I was in splendid condition, with muscles like steel

from incessant walking. At length the warriors squatted down upon the

ground in the form of a crescent, the chiefs in the foreground, and every

detail of the struggle that followed was observed with the keenest

interest.

I was anxious not to lose a single moment. I felt that if I thought the

matter over I might lose heart, so I suddenly bounded into the arena. My

opponent was there already--looking, I must say, a little undecided.

In a moment his huge arms were about my waist and shoulders. It did not

take me very long to find out that the big chief was going to depend more

upon his weight than upon any technical skill in wrestling. He possessed

none. He first made a great attempt to force me upon my knees and then

backwards; but I wriggled out of his grasp, and a few minutes later an

opening presented itself for trying the "cross-buttock" throw. There was

not a moment to be lost. Seizing the big man round the thigh I drew him

forward, pulled him over on my back, and in the twinkling of an

eye--certainly before I myself had time to realise what had happened--he

was hurled right over my head outside the enclosure. The

spectators--sportsmen all--frantically slapped their thighs, and I knew

then that I had gained their sympathies. My opponent, who had alighted

on his head and nearly broken his neck, rose to his feet, looking dazed

and furious that he should have been so easily thrown. When he faced me

for the second time in the square he was much more cautious, and we

struggled silently, but forcefully, for some minutes without either

gaining any decided advantage. Oddly enough, at the time I was not

struck by the dramatic element of the situation; but now that I have

returned to civilisation I _do_ see the extraordinary nature of the

combat as I look back upon those dreadful days.

Just picture the scene for yourself. The weird, unexplored land

stretches away on every side, though one could not see much of it on

account of the grassy hillocks. I, a white man, was alone among the

blacks in the terrible land of "Never Never,"--as the Australians call

their _terra incognita_; and I was wrestling with a gigantic cannibal

chief for the possession of two delicately-reared English girls, who were

in his power. Scores of other savages squatted before us, their

repulsive faces aglow with interest and excitement. Very fortunately

Bruno was not on the spot. I knew what he was of old, and how he made my

quarrels his with a strenuous energy and eagerness that frequently got

himself as well as his master into serious trouble. Knowing this, I had

instructed Yamba to keep him carefully away, and on no account let him

run loose.

Fully aware that delays were dangerous, I gripped my opponent once more

and tried to throw him over my back, but this time he was too wary, and

broke away from me. When we closed again he commenced his old tactics of

trying to crush me to the ground by sheer weight, but in this he was not

successful. Frankly, I knew his strength was much greater than mine, and

that the longer we wrestled the less chance I would have. Therefore,

forcing him suddenly sideways, so that he stood on one leg, I tripped

him, hurling him violently from me sideways; and his huge form went

rolling outside the square, to the accompaniment of delighted yells from

his own people.

I cannot describe my own sensations, for I believe I was half mad with

triumph and excitement. I must not forget to mention that I, too, fell

to the ground, but fortunately well within the square. I was greatly

astonished to behold the glee of the spectators--but, then, the keynote

of their character is an intense love of deeds of prowess, especially

such deeds as provide exciting entertainment.

The vanquished chief sprang to his feet before I did, and ere I could

realise what was happening, he dashed at me as I was rising and dealt me

a terrible blow in the mouth with his clenched fist. As he was a

magnificently muscular savage, the blow broke several of my teeth and

filled my mouth with blood. My lips, too, were very badly cut, and

altogether I felt half stunned. The effect upon the audience was

astounding. The warriors leaped to their feet, highly incensed at the

cowardly act, and some of them would actually have speared their chief

then and there had I not forestalled them. I was furiously angry, and

dexterously drawing my stiletto from its sheath so as not to attract

attention, I struck at my opponent with all my force, burying the short,

keen blade in his heart. He fell dead at my feet with a low, gurgling

groan. As I withdrew the knife, I held it so that the blade extended up

my forearm and was quite hidden. This, combined with the fact that the

fatal wound bled mainly internally, caused the natives to believe I had

struck my enemy dead by some supernatural means. The act was inevitable.

You will observe that by this time I would seize every opportunity of

impressing the blacks by an almost intuitive instinct; and as the huge

savage lay dead on the ground, I placed my foot over the wound, folded my

arms, and looked round triumphantly upon the enthusiastic crowd, like a

gladiator of old.

According to law and etiquette, however, the nearest relatives of the

dead man had a perfect right to challenge me, but they did not do so,

probably because they were disgusted at the unfair act of my opponent. I

put the usual question, but no champion came forward; on the contrary, I

was overwhelmed with congratulations, and even offers of the

chieftainship. I am certain, so great was the love of fair-play among

these natives, that had I not killed the chief with my stiletto, his own

people would promptly have speared him. The whole of this strange

tragedy passed with surprising swiftness; and I may mention here that, as

I saw the chief rushing at me, I thought he simply wanted to commence

another round. His death was actually an occasion for rejoicing in the

tribe. The festivities were quickly ended, however, when I told the

warriors that I intended leaving the camp with the two girls in the

course of another day or so, to return to my friends in the King Leopold

Ranges. In reality it was my intention to make for my own home in the

Cambridge Gulf district. The body of the chief was not eaten (most

likely on account of the cowardice he displayed), but it was disposed of

according to native rites. The corpse was first of all half-roasted in

front of a huge fire, and then, when properly shrivelled, it was wrapped

in bark and laid on a kind of platform built in the fork of a tree.

The girls were kept in ignorance of the fatal termination of the

wrestling match, as I was afraid it might give them an unnecessary shock.

After twelve or fourteen days in the camp, we quietly took our departure.

Our party consisted of the two girls, who were nearly frantic with

excitement over their escape; Yamba, and myself--together with the

friendly warriors who had so opportunely come to my assistance.

We had not gone far, however, before the girls complained of sore feet.

This was not surprising, considering the burning hot sand and the rough

country we were traversing, which was quite the worst I had yet seen--at

any rate, for the first few days' march after we got out of the level

country in the King's Sound region. I, therefore, had to rig up a kind

of hammock made of woven grass, and this, slung between two poles, served

to carry the girls by turns, the natives acting as bearers. But being

totally unused to carrying anything but their own weapons, they proved

deplorably inefficient as porters, and after a time, so intolerable to

them did the labour become, the work of carrying the girls devolved upon

Yamba and myself. Gladys, the younger girl, suffered most, but both were

weak and footsore and generally incapable of much exertion. Perhaps a

reaction had set in after the terrible excitement of the previous days.

Soon our escort left us, to return to their own homes; and then Yamba and

I had to work extremely hard to get the girls over the terribly rough

country. Fortunately there was no need for hurry, and so we proceeded in

the most leisurely manner possible, camping frequently and erecting grass

shelters for our delicate charges. Food was abundant, and the natives

friendly.

CHAPTER XI

Easier travel--The girls improve--How the blacks received them--A large

hut--A dainty dish--What might have been--The girls decorate their

home--Bruno as a performer--"A teacher of swimming"--How we fought

depression--Castles in the air--A strange concert--Trapping wild-cats--The

girls' terror of solitude--Fervent prayer--A goose-skin football--How I

made drums.

At length we came to a stately stream that flowed in a NNE. direction to

Cambridge Gulf. This, I believe, is the Ord River. Here we constructed

a catamaran, and were able to travel easily and luxuriously upon it,

always spending the night ashore. This catamaran was exceptionally

large, and long enough to admit of our standing upright on it with

perfect safety. After crossing the King Leopold Ranges we struck a level

country, covered with rich, tall grass, and well though not thickly

wooded. The rough granite ranges, by the way, we found rich in alluvial

and reef tin. Gradually the girls grew stronger and brighter. At this

time they were, as you know, clad in their strange "sack" garments of

bird-skins; but even before we reached the Ord River these began to

shrink to such an extent that the wearers were eventually wrapped as in a

vice, and were scarcely able to walk. Yamba then made some make-shift

garments out of opossum skins.

As the girls' spirits rose higher and higher I was assailed by other

misgivings. I do not know quite how the idea arose, but somehow they

imagined that their protector's home was a more or less civilised

settlement, with regular houses, furnished with pianos and other

appurtenances of civilised life! So great was their exuberance that I

could not find it in my heart to tell them that they were merely going

among my own friendly natives, whose admiration and affection for myself

only differentiated them from the other cannibal blacks of unknown

Australia.

When first I saw these poor girls, in the glow of the firelight, and in

their rude shelter of boughs, they looked like old women, so haggard and

emaciated were they; but now, as the spacious catamaran glided down the

stately Ord, they gradually resumed their youthful looks, and were very

comely indeed. The awful look of intolerable anguish that haunted their

faces had gone, and they laughed and chatted with perfect freedom. They

were like birds just set at liberty. They loved Bruno from the very

first; and he loved them. He showed his love, too, in a very practical

manner, by going hunting on his own account and bringing home little

ducks to his new mistresses. Quite of his own accord, also, he would go

through his whole repertoire of tumbling tricks; and whenever the girls

returned to camp from their little wanderings, with bare legs bleeding

from the prickles, Bruno would lick their wounds and manifest every token

of sympathy and affection.

Of course, after leaving the native encampment, it was several weeks

before we made the Ord River, and then we glided down that fine stream

for many days, spearing fish in the little creeks, and generally amusing

ourselves, time being no object. I have, by the way, seen enormous

shoals of fish in this river--mainly mullet--which can only be compared

to the vast swarms of salmon seen in the rivers of British Columbia.

We came across many isolated hills on our way to the river, and these

delayed us very considerably, because we had to go round them. Here,

again, there was an abundance of food, but the girls did not take very

kindly to the various meats, greatly preferring the roots which Yamba

collected. We came upon fields of wild rice, which, apart from any other

consideration, lent great beauty to the landscape, covering the country

with a pinkish-white blossom. We forced ourselves to get used to the

rice, although it was very insipid without either salt or sugar.

Sometimes, during our down-river journey, we were obliged to camp for

days and nights without making any progress. This, however, was only

after the river became tidal and swept up against us.

When at length we would put off again in a homeward direction, I sang

many little _chansons_ to my fair companions. The one that pleased them

most, having regard to our position, commenced--

"Filez, filez, mon beau navire,

Car la bonheur m'attend la bas."

Whenever the girls appeared to be brooding over the terrible misfortunes

they had undergone, I would tell them my own story, which deeply affected

them. They would often weep with tender sympathy over the series of

catastrophes that had befallen me. They sang to me, too--chiefly hymns,

however--such as "Rock of Ages," "Nearer, my God, to Thee," "There is a

Happy Land," and many others. We were constantly meeting new tribes of

natives, and for the most part were very well received. Bruno, however,

always evinced an unconquerable aversion for the blacks. He was ever

kind to the children, though mostly in disgrace with the men--until they

knew him.

When at length we reached my own home in Cambridge Gulf, the natives gave

us a welcome so warm that in some measure at least it mitigated the

girls' disappointment at the absence of civilisation.

You see my people were delighted when they saw me bringing home, as they

thought, two white wives; "for now," they said, "the great white chief

will certainly remain among us for ever." There were no wars going on

just then, and so the whole tribe gave themselves up to festivities.

The blacks were also delighted to see the girls, though of course they

did not condescend to greet them, they being mere women, and therefore

beneath direct notice.

I ought to mention here, that long before we reached my home we were

constantly provided with escorts of natives from the various tribes we

met. These people walked along the high banks or disported themselves in

the water like amphibians, greatly to the delight of the girls. We found

the banks of the Ord very thickly populated, and frequently camped at

night with different parties of natives. Among these we actually came

across some I had fought against many months previously.

As we neared my home, some of our escort sent up smoke-signals to

announce our approach--the old and wonderful "Morse code" of long puffs,

short puffs, spiral puffs, and the rest; the variations being produced by

damping down the fire or fires with green boughs. Yamba also sent up

signals. The result was that crowds of my own people came out in their

catamarans to meet us. My reception, in fact, was like that accorded a

successful Roman General. Needless to say, there was a series of huge

_corroborees_ held in our honour. The first thing I was told was that my

hut had been burnt down in my absence (fires are of quite common

occurrence); and so, for the first few days after our arrival, the girls

were housed in a temporary grass shelter, pending the construction of a

substantial hut built of logs. Now, as logs were very unusual building

material, a word of explanation is necessary.

The girls never conquered their fear of the blacks--even _my_ blacks; and

therefore, in order that they might feel secure from night attack (a

purely fanciful idea, of course), I resolved to build a hut which should

be thoroughly spear-proof. Bark was also used extensively, and there was

a thatch of grass. When finished, our new residence consisted of three

fair-sized rooms--one for the girls to sleep in, one for Yamba and

myself, and a third as a general "living room,"--though, of course, we

lived mainly _en plain air_. I also arranged a kind of veranda in front

of the door, and here we frequently sat in the evening, singing, chatting

about distant friends; the times that were, and the times that were to

be.

Let the truth be told. When these poor young ladies came to my hut their

faces expressed their bitter disappointment, and we all wept together the

greater part of the night. Afterwards they said how sorry they were thus

to have given way; and they begged me not to think them ungrateful.

However, they soon resigned themselves to the inevitable, buoyed up by

the inexhaustible optimism of youth; and they settled down to live as

comfortably as possible among the blacks until some fortuitous occurrence

should enable us all to leave these weird and remote regions. The girls

were in constant terror of being left alone--of being stolen, in fact.

They had been told how the natives got wives by stealing them; and they

would wake up in the dead of the night screaming in the most

heart-rending manner, with a vague, nameless terror. Knowing that the

ordinary food must be repulsive to my new and delightful companions, I

went back to a certain island, where, during my journey from the little

sand-spit to the main, I had hidden a quantity of corn beneath a cairn.

This corn I now brought back to my Gulf home, and planted for the use of

the girls. They always ate the corn green in the cob, with a kind of

vegetable "milk" that exudes from one of the palm-trees. When they

became a little more reconciled to their new surroundings, they took a

great interest in their home, and would watch me for hours as I tried to

fashion rude tables and chairs and other articles of furniture. Yamba

acted as cook and waitress, but after a time the work was more than she

could cope with unaided. You see, she had to _find_ the food as well as

cook it. The girls, who were, of course, looked upon as my wives by the

tribe (this was their greatest protection), knew nothing about

root-hunting, and therefore they did not attempt to accompany Yamba on

her daily expeditions. I was in something of a dilemma. If I engaged

other native women to help Yamba, they also would be recognised as my

wives. Finally, I decided there was nothing left for me but to acquire

five more helpmates, who were of the greatest assistance to Yamba.

Of course, the constant topic of conversation was our ultimate escape

overland; and to this end we made little expeditions to test the girls'

powers of endurance. I suggested, during one of our conversations, that

we should either make for Port Essington, or else go overland in search

of Port Darwin; but the girls were averse to this, owing to their terror

of the natives.

Little did I dream, however, that at a place called Cossack, on the coast

of the North-West Division of Western Australia, there was a settlement

of pearl-fishers; so that, had I only known it, civilisation--more or

less--was comparatively near. Cossack, it appears, was the pearling

rendezvous on the western side of the continent, much as Somerset was on

the north-east, at the extremity of the Cape York Peninsula.

My tongue or pen can never tell what those young ladies were to me in my

terrible exile. They would recite passages from Sir Walter Scott's

works--the "Tales of a Grandfather" I remember in particular; and so

excellent was their memory that they were also able to give me many

beautiful passages from Byron and Shakespeare. I had always had a great

admiration for Shakespeare, and the girls and myself would frequently act

little scenes from "The Tempest," as being the most appropriate to our

circumstances. The girls' favourite play, however, was Pericles, "Prince

of Tyre." I took the part of the King, and when I called for my robes

Yamba would bring some indescribable garments of emu skin, with a gravity

that was comical in the extreme. I, on my part, recited passages from

the French classics--particularly the Fables of La Fontaine, in French;

which language the girls knew fairly well.

And we had other amusements. I made some fiddles out of that peculiar

Australian wood which splits into thin strips. The strings of the bow we

made out of my own hair; whilst those for the instrument itself were

obtained from the dried intestines of the native wild-cat.

We lined the hut with the bark of the paper-tree, which had the

appearance of a reddish-brown drapery.

The native women made us mats out of the wild flax; and the girls

themselves decorated their room daily with beautiful flowers, chiefly

lilies. They also busied themselves in making garments of various kinds

from opossum skins. They even made some sort of costume for me, but I

could not wear it on account of the irritation it caused.

The natives would go miles to get fruit for the girls--wild figs, and a

kind of nut about the size of a walnut, which, when ripe, was filled with

a delicious substance looking and tasting like raspberry jam. There was

also a queer kind of apple which grew upon creepers in the sand, and of

which we ate only the outer part raw, cooking the large kernel which is

found inside. I do not know the scientific name of any of these things.

I often asked the girls whether they had altogether despaired in the

clutches of the cannibal chief; and they told me that although they often

attempted to take their own lives, yet they had intervals of bright

hope--so strong is the optimism of youth. My apparition, they told me,

seemed like a dream to them.

The natives, of course, were constantly moving their camp from place to

place, leaving us alone for weeks at a time; but we kept pretty

stationary, and were visited by other friendly tribes, whom we

entertained (in accordance with my consistent policy) with songs, plays,

recitations, and acrobatic performances.

In these latter Bruno took a great part, and nothing delighted the blacks

more than to see him put his nose on the ground and go head over heels

time after time with great gravity and persistency. But the effect of

Bruno's many tricks faded into the veriest insignificance beside that

produced by his bark. You must understand that the native dogs do not

bark at all, but simply give vent to a melancholy howl, not unlike that

of the hyena, I believe. Bruno's bark, be it said, has even turned the

tide of battle, for he was always in the wars in the most literal sense

of the phrase. These things, combined with his great abilities as a

hunter, often prompted the blacks to put in a demand that Bruno should be

made over to them altogether. Now, this request was both awkward and

inconvenient to answer; but I got out of it by telling them--since they

believed in a curious kind of metempsychosis--that Bruno was _my

brother_, whose soul and being he possessed! His bark, I pretended, was

a perfectly intelligible language, and this they believed the more

readily when they saw me speak to the dog and ask him to do various

things, such as fetching and carrying; tumbling, walking on his

hind-legs, &c. &c. But even this argument did not suffice to overcome

the covetousness of some tribes, and I was then obliged to assure them

confidentially that he was a relative of the Sun, and therefore if I

parted with him he would bring all manner of most dreadful curses down

upon his new owner or owners. Whenever we went rambling I had to keep

Bruno as near me as possible, because we sometimes came across natives

whose first impulse, not knowing that he was a dog, was to spear him.

Without doubt the many cross-breeds between Bruno and the native dogs

will yet be found by Australian explorers.

Our hut was about three-quarters of a mile away from the sea, and in the

morning the very first thing the girls and I did was to go down to the

beach arm-in-arm and have a delicious swim.

They very soon became expert swimmers, by the way, under my tuition.

Frequently I would go out spearing and netting fish, my principal

captures being mullet. We nearly always had fish of some sort for

breakfast, including shell-fish; and we would send the women long

distances for wild honey. Water was the only liquid we drank at

breakfast, and with it Yamba served a very appetising dish of lily-buds

and roots. We used to steam the wild rice--which I found growing almost

everywhere, but never more than two feet high--in primitive ovens, which

were merely adapted ants' nests. The material that formed these nests,

we utilised as flooring for our house. We occasionally received

quantities of wild figs from the inland natives in exchange for shell and

other ornaments which they did not possess. I also discovered a cereal

very like barley, which I ground up and made into cakes. The girls never

attempted to cook anything, there being no civilised appliances of any

kind. Food was never boiled.

From all this you would gather that we were as happy as civilised beings

could possibly be under the circumstances. Nevertheless--and my heart

aches as I recall those times--we had periodical fits of despondency,

which filled us with acute and intolerable agony.

These periods came with curious regularity almost once a week. At such

times I at once instituted sports, such as swimming matches, races on the

beach, swings, and acrobatic performances on the horizontal bars. Also

Shakespearian plays, songs (the girls taught me most of Moore's

melodies), and recitations both grave and gay. The fits of despondency

were usually most severe when we had been watching the everlasting sea

for hours, and had perhaps at last caught sight of a distant sail without

being able to attract the attention of those on board. The girls, too,

suffered from fits of nervous apprehension lest I should go away from

them for any length of time. They never had complete confidence even in

my friendly natives. Naturally we were inseparable, we three. We went

for long rambles together, and daily inspected our quaint little corn-

garden. At first my charming companions evinced the most embarrassing

gratitude for what I had done, but I earnestly begged of them never even

to mention the word to me. The little I had done, I told them, was my

bare and obvious duty, and was no more than any other man worthy of the

name, would have done.

In our more hopeful moments we would speak of the future, and these poor

girls would dwell upon the thrill of excitement that would go all through

the civilised world, when their story and mine should first be made known

to the public.

For they felt certain their adventures were quite unique in the annals of

civilisation, and they loved to think they would have an opportunity of

"lionising" me when we should return to Europe. They would not hear me

when I protested that such a course would, from my point of view, be

extremely unpleasant and undignified--even painful.

Every day we kept a good look-out for passing ships; and from twenty to

forty catamarans were always stationed on the beach in readiness to take

us out to sea should there be any hope of a rescue. As my knowledge of

English was at this time not very perfect, the girls took it upon

themselves to improve me, and I made rapid progress under their vivacious

tuition. They would promptly correct me in the pronunciation of certain

vowels when I read aloud from the only book I possessed--the Anglo-French

Testament I have already mentioned. They were, by the way, exceedingly

interested in the records of my daily life, sensations, &c., which I had

written in _blood_ in the margins of my little Bible whilst on the island

in Timor Sea. About this time I tried to make some ink, having quill

pens in plenty from the bodies of the wild geese; but the experiment was

a failure.

Both girls, as I have already hinted, had wonderful memories, and could

recite numberless passages which they had learnt at school. Blanche, the

elder girl, would give her sister and myself lessons in elocution; and I

should like to say a word to teachers and children on the enormous

utility of _committing something to memory_--whether poems, songs, or

passages from historical or classical works. It is, of course, very

unlikely that any one who reads these lines will be cast away as we were,

but still one never knows what the future has in store; and I have known

pioneers and prospectors who have ventured into the remoter wilds, and

emerged therefrom years after, to give striking testimony as to the

usefulness of being able to sing or recite in a loud voice.

Sometimes we would have an improvised concert, each of us singing

whatever best suited the voice; or we would all join together in a

rollicking glee. One day, I remember, I started off with--

"A notre heureux sejour,"

but almost immediately I realised how ridiculously inappropriate the

words were. Still, I struggled on through the first verse, but to my

amazement, before I could start the second, the girls joined in with "God

Save the Queen," which has exactly the same air. The incident is one

that should appeal to all British people, including even her Most

Gracious Majesty herself. As the girls' voices rose, half sobbingly, in

the old familiar air, beloved of every English-speaking person, tears

fairly ran down their fair but sad young faces, and I could not help

being struck with the pathos of the scene.

But all things considered, these were really happy days for all of us, at

any rate in comparison with those we had previously experienced. We had

by this time quite an orchestra of reed flutes and the fiddles aforesaid,

whose strings were of gut procured from the native wild-cat--a very

little fellow, by the way, about the size of a fair-sized rat; I found

him everywhere. These cats were great thieves, and only roamed about at

night. I trapped them in great numbers by means of an ingenious native

arrangement of pointed sticks of wood, which, while providing an easy

entrance, yet confronted the outgoing cat with a formidable _chevaux-de-

frise_. The bait I used was meat in an almost putrid condition.

I could not handle the prisoners in the morning, because they scratched

and bit quite savagely; I therefore forked them out with a spear. As

regards their own prey, they waged perpetual warfare against the native

rats. The skin of these cats was beautifully soft, and altogether they

were quite leopards in miniature. Best of all, they made excellent

eating, the more so in that their flesh was almost the only meat dish

that had not the eternal flavour of the eucalyptus leaf, which all our

other "joints" possessed. The girls never knew that they were eating

cats, to say nothing about rats. In order to save their feelings, I told

them that both "dishes" were squirrels!

My hair at this time was even longer than the girls' own, so it is no

wonder that it provided bows for the fiddles. My companions took great

delight in dressing my absurdly long tresses, using combs which I had

made out of porcupines' quills.

Our contentment was a great source of joy to Yamba, who was now fully

convinced that I would settle down among her people for ever.

The blacks were strangely affected by our singing. Any kind of civilised

music or singing was to them anathema. What they liked best was the

harsh uproar made by pieces of wood beaten together, or the weird

jabbering and chanting that accompanied a big feast. Our singing they

likened to the howling of the dingoes! They were sincere, hardly

complimentary.

Elsewhere I have alluded to the horror the girls had of being left alone.

Whenever I went off with the men on a hunting expedition I left them in

charge of my other women-folk, who were thoroughly capable of looking

after them. I also persuaded the natives to keep some distance away from

our dwelling, particularly when they were about to hold a cannibal feast,

so that the girls were never shocked by such a fearful sight. Certainly

they had known of cannibalism in their old camp, but I told them that my

own people were a superior race of natives, who were not addicted to this

loathsome practice.

Although we had long since lost count of the days, we always set aside

one day in every seven and recognised it as Sunday, when we held a kind

of service in our spacious hut. Besides the girls, Yamba, and myself,

only our own women-folk were admitted, because I was careful never to

attempt to proselytise any of the natives, or wean them from their

ancient beliefs. The girls were religious in the very best sense of the

term, and they knew the Old and New Testaments almost by heart. They

read the Lessons, and I confess they taught me a good deal about religion

which I had not known previously. Blanche would read aloud the most

touching and beautiful passages from the Bible; and even as I write I can

recall her pale, earnest face, with its pathetic expression and her low,

musical voice, as she dwelt upon passages likely to console and

strengthen us in our terrible position. The quiet little discussions we

had together on theological subjects settled, once and for all, many

questions that had previously vexed me a great deal.

Both girls were devoted adherents of the Church of England, and could

repeat most of the Church services entirely from memory. They wanted to

do a little missionary work among the blacks, but I gently told them I

thought this inadvisable, as any rupture in our friendly relations with

the natives would have been quite fatal--if not to our lives, at least to

our chances of reaching civilisation. Moreover, my people were not by

any means without a kind of religion of their own. They believed in the

omnipotence of a Great Spirit in whose hands their destinies rested; and

him they worshipped with much the same adoration which Christians give to

God. The fundamental difference was that the sentiment animating them

was not _love_, but _fear_: propitiation rather than adoration.

We sang the usual old hymns at our Sunday services, and I soon learned to

sing them myself. On my part, I taught the girls such simple hymns as

the one commencing "_Une nacelle en silence_," which I had learnt at

Sunday-school in Switzerland. It is interesting to note that this was

Bruno's favourite air. Poor Bruno! he took more or less kindly to all

songs--except the Swiss _jodellings_, which he simply detested. When I

started one of these plaintive ditties Bruno would first protest by

barking his loudest, and if I persisted, he would simply go away in

disgust to some place where he could not hear the hated sounds. On

Sunday evening we generally held a prayer-service in the hut, and at such

times offered up most fervent supplications for delivery.

Often I have seen these poor girls lifting up their whole souls in

prayer, quite oblivious for the moment of their surroundings, until

recalled to a sense of their awful positions by the crash of an unusually

large wave on the rocks.

The girls knew no more of Australian geography than I did; and when I

mention that I merely had a vague idea that the great cities of the

continent--Sydney, Adelaide, Perth, and Melbourne--all lay in a southerly

direction, you may imagine how dense was my ignorance of the great

island. I am now the strongest possible advocate of a sound geographical

training in schools.

On ordinary days we indulged in a variety of games, the principal one

being a form of "rounders." I made a ball out of opossum skin, stuffed

with the light soft bark of the paper-tree, and stitched with gut. We

used a yam-stick to strike it with. My native women attendants often

joined in the fun, and our antics provided a vast amount of amusement for

the rest of the tribe. The girls taught me cricket, and in due time I

tried to induce the blacks to play the British national game, but with

little success. We made the necessary bats and stumps out of hard

acacia, which I cut down with my tomahawk. The natives themselves,

however, made bats much better than mine, simply by whittling flat their

waddies; and they soon became expert batsmen. But unfortunately they

failed to see why they should run after the ball, especially when they

had knocked it a very great distance away. Running about in this manner,

they said, was only fit work for women, and was quite beneath their

dignity. Yamba and I fielded, but soon found ourselves unequal to the

task, owing to the enormous distances we had to travel in search of the

ball. Therefore we soon abandoned the cricket, and took up football,

which was very much more successful.

We had a nice large football made of soft goose-skin stuffed with the

paper bark; and in considering our game you must always bear in mind that

boots or footgear of any kind were quite unknown. The great drawback of

football, from the native point of view, was that it entailed so much

exertion, which could be otherwise expended in a far more profitable and

practical manner. They argued that if they put the exertion requisite

for a game of football into a hunt for food, they would have enough meat

to last them for many days. It was, of course, utterly impossible to

bring them round to my view of sports and games. With regard to the

abandoned cricket, they delighted in hitting the ball and in catching

it--oh! they were wonderfully expert at this--but as to running after the

ball, this was quite impossible.

About this time the girls showed me the steps of an Irish jig, which I

quickly picked up and soon became quite an adept, much to the delight of

the natives, who never tired of watching my gyrations. I kept them in a

constant state of wonderment, so that even my very hair--now about three

feet long--commanded their respect and admiration!

Sometimes I would waltz with the younger girl, whilst her sister whistled

an old familiar air. When I danced, the blacks would squat in a huge

circle around me; those in the front rank keeping time by beating drums

that I had made and presented to them. The bodies of the drums were made

from sections of trees which I found already hollowed out by the ants.

These wonderful little insects would bore through and through the core of

the trunk, leaving only the outer shell, which soon became light and dry.

I then scraped out with my tomahawk any of the rough inner part that

remained, and stretched over the ends of each section a pair of the

thinnest wallaby skins I could find; these skins were held taut by sinews

from the tail of a kangaroo. I tried emu-skins for the drum-heads, but

found they were no good, as they soon became perforated when I scraped

them.

Never a day passed but we eagerly scanned the glistening sea in the hope

of sighting a passing sail. One vessel actually came right into our bay

from the north, but she suddenly turned right back on the course she had

come. She was a cutter-rigged vessel, painted a greyish-white, and of

about fifty tons burden. She was probably a Government vessel--possibly

the _Claud Hamilton_, a South Australian revenue boat stationed at Port

Darwin--as she flew the British ensign at the mast-head; whereas a

pearler would have flown it at the peak. The moment we caught sight of

that ship I am afraid we lost our heads. We screamed aloud with

excitement, and ran like mad people up and down the beach, waving

branches and yelling like maniacs. I even waved wildly my long,

luxuriant hair. Unfortunately, the wind was against us, blowing from the

WSW. We were assisted in our frantic demonstration by quite a crowd of

natives with branches; and I think it possible that, even if we had been

seen, the people on the ship would have mistaken our efforts for a more

hostile demonstration.

When it was too late, and the ship almost out of sight, I suddenly

realised that I had made another fatal mistake in having the blacks with

me. Had I and the two girls been alone on the beach I feel sure the

officers of the ship would have detected our white skins through their

glasses. But, indeed, we may well have escaped notice altogether.

There was a terrible scene when the supposed Government vessel turned

back on her course and passed swiftly out of sight. The girls threw

themselves face downwards on the beach, and wept wildly and hysterically

in the very depths of violent despair. I can never hope to tell you what

a bitter and agonising experience it was--the abrupt change from

delirious excitement at seeing a ship steering right into our bay, to the

despairing shock of beholding it turn away from us even quicker than it

came.

CHAPTER XII

The girls in sun-bonnets--I advise the blacks--Fatal excitement--Last

moments--The catastrophe--I cannot realise it--A fearful contrast--"Only

a withered flower"--Bruno's grief--Steering by the ant-hills--Avoiding

the forests--Myriads of rats--The flowing of the tide--Rats and the

native children--Clouds of locusts--Fish from the clouds.

The weeks gradually grew into months, and still we were apparently no

nearer civilisation than ever. Again and again we made expeditions to

see whether it were possible for the girls to reach Port Darwin overland;

but, unfortunately, I had painted for them in such vivid colours the

tortures of thirst which I had undergone on my journey towards Cape York,

that they were always afraid to leave what was now their home to go forth

unprovided into the unknown. Sometimes a fit of depression so acute

would come over them, that they would shut themselves up in their room

and not show themselves for a whole day.

We had a very plentiful supply of food, but one thing the girls missed

very much was milk,--which of course, was an unheard-of luxury in these

regions. We had a fairly good substitute, however, in a certain creamy

and bitter-tasting juice which we obtained from a palm-tree. This

"milk," when we got used to it, we found excellent when used with the

green corn. The corn-patch was carefully fenced in from kangaroos, and

otherwise taken care of; and I may here remark that I made forks and

plates of wood for my fair companions, and also built them a proper

elevated bed, with fragrant eucalyptus leaves and grass for bedding. For

the cold nights there was a covering of skin rugs, with an overall quilt

made from the wild flax.

The girls made themselves sun-bonnets out of palm-leaves; while their

most fashionable costume was composed of the skins of birds and

marsupials, cunningly stitched together by Yamba. During the cold winter

months of July and August we camped at a more sheltered spot, a little to

the north, where there was a range of mountains, whose principal peak was

shaped like a sugar-loaf.

I frequently accompanied the warriors on their fighting expeditions, but

did not use my stilts, mainly because we never again met so powerful an

enemy as we had battled with on that memorable occasion. My people were

often victorious, but once or twice we got beaten by reason of the other

side having drawn first blood. My natives took their reverses with a

very good grace, and were never very depressed or inclined to view me

with less favour because of their want of success. We were always the

best of friends, and I even ventured gradually to wean them from

cannibalism.

I knew they ate human flesh, not because they felt hungry, but because

they hoped to acquire the additional valour of the warrior they were

eating. I therefore diplomatically pointed out to them that, in the

first place, all kinds of dreadful diseases which the dead man might have

had would certainly be communicated to them, and in this I was

providentially borne out by a strange epidemic. The second consideration

I mentioned was that by making anklets, bracelets, and other ornaments

out of the dead braves' hair, they could acquire for themselves in a much

more efficacious manner the valour and other estimable qualities of the

departed warrior.

Whilst I was on this subject I also advised them strongly and

impressively never wantonly to attack white men, but rather to make

friendly advances towards them. I often wonder now whether explorers who

follow in my track will notice the absence of cannibalism and the

friendly overtures of the natives.

Two half painful, half merry years, passed by. We had seen several ships

passing out at sea, and on more than one occasion Yamba and I, taught by

previous lessons, had jumped into our canoe and pulled for many miles in

the direction of the sail, leaving the girls watching us eagerly from the

shore. But it was always useless, and we were compelled to return

without having accomplished our purpose; we merely inflicted additional

pain on ourselves.

I now come to what is possibly the most painful episode of my career, and

one which I find it impossible to discuss, or write about, without very

real pain. Even at this distance of time I cannot recall that tragic day

without bitter tears coming into my eyes, and being afflicted with a

gnawing remorse which can never completely die in my heart. Do not, I

beg of you, in considering my actions, ask me why I did not do this, or

that, or the other. In terrible crises I believe we become almost

mechanical, and are not responsible for what we do. I have often thought

that, apart from our own volition, each set of nerves and fibres in our

being has a will of its own.

Well, one gloriously fine day we sighted a ship going very slowly across

the gulf, several miles away. Would to God we had never seen her! We

were thrown, as usual, into a perfect frenzy of wild excitement, and the

girls dashed here and there like people possessed. Of course, I

determined to intercept the vessel if possible, and the girls at once

expressed their intention of coming with me. I attempted earnestly to

dissuade them from this, but they wept pitifully and implored me to let

them come. They were filled with an ungovernable longing to get away--the

same longing, perhaps, that animates a caged bird who, although well fed

and kindly treated, soars away without a moment's hesitation when an

opportunity occurs. Quite against my better judgment, I let them come.

Every second was precious and every argument futile. While Yamba was

getting ready the canoe I rushed from one group of natives to the other,

coaxing, promising, imploring. I pointed out to them that they could

propel their catamarans faster than I could paddle my canoe; and I

promised them that if I reached the ship I would send them presents from

the white man's land of tomahawks and knives; gaily coloured cloths and

gorgeous jewellery. But they were only too ready to help me without any

of these inducements; and in an incredibly short time at least twenty

catamarans, each containing one or two men, put off from the shore in my

wake and made directly towards the ship, whilst I struck off at a tangent

so as to head her off. I now see that without doubt we must have

presented a very formidable appearance to the people on the vessel as we

paddled over the sunlit seas, racing one another, yelling, and

gesticulating like madmen. Of course, the people on board quite

naturally thought they were being attacked by a savage flotilla. But in

the excitement of the moment I never gave this a thought. Had I only

left my faithful natives behind all might have been well. Yamba and I

kept the canoe well ahead, and we reached the neighbourhood of the ship

first.

As we approached, the excitement of the girls was painful to witness.

They could scarcely contain themselves for joy; and as I forcibly

prevented them from standing up in the frail canoe, they contented

themselves with frantically waving their hands and screaming themselves

hoarse.

Nearing the vessel I was surprised to see the top-sail being hoisted,

but, strange to say, the crew kept well out of sight. This was easy to

do, considering the spread of canvas. She was not a Malay vessel, being

decidedly of European rig. She was only a small craft, of perhaps ten or

fifteen tons, with one mast carrying a main-sail and stay-sail, in

addition to the top-sail that had been hoisted as we approached. To us,

however, she was a "ship." We were now about one hundred and fifty yards

away, and I suddenly leapt to my feet and coo-eed several times. Still

no one showed himself, and not a soul was visible on board. My own

joyful excitement speedily turned to heart-sickness, alarm, and even

terror. By this time the flotilla of catamarans was close behind me; and

just as I was about to sit down and take to my paddle again, so as to

advance still closer to the vessel, the loud report of a gun was heard;

and then--well, what followed next is exceedingly difficult for me to

describe accurately. Whether I was wounded by the shot, or whether the

girls suddenly stood up, causing me to lose my balance and fall on the

side of the canoe and cut my thigh, I do not know.

At any rate, I crashed heavily overboard in spite of Yamba's desperate

attempt to save me. The next moment I had forgotten all about the ship,

and was only conscious of Yamba swimming close by my side, and

occasionally gripping my long hair when she thought I was going under. We

righted the canoe and climbed in as quickly as we could. I think I was

dazed and incapable of any coherent thought. As I collapsed in the

bottom of the canoe, I suddenly realised that Yamba and I were alone; and

sitting up, I gasped, "The girls, the girls! Where are they? Oh, where

are they? We must save them!"

Alas! they had sunk beneath the smiling waves, and they never rose again.

True, they were expert swimmers, but I suppose the terrible excitement,

followed by the sudden shock, was too much for them, and as they sank for

the first time they probably clung to each other in the embrace of death.

God knows best. Perhaps it was better that He should take my loved ones

from me than that they should be dragged through the terrible years that

followed.

But for a long time I utterly refused to believe that my darlings were

lost--they were truly as sisters to me; and Yamba and I and the natives

dived for them time after time, searching the sea in every direction. But

at length, seeing that I was exhausted, Yamba forcibly detained me, and

told me that I myself would inevitably drown if I went into the water

again. The wound in my thigh (I am uncertain to this day whether it was

the result of the gun-shot or mere collision with the rough gunwale of

the canoe) was bleeding freely; and as it was also pointed out to me that

there was a very strong and swift current at this spot, I allowed myself

to be taken away without any further opposition.

I simply _could_ not realise my bereavement. It seemed too terrible and

stunning to think, that when God had provided me with these two charming

companions, who were all in all to me every moment of my existence, as a

consolation for the horrors I had gone through--it seemed impossible, I

say, that they should be snatched from me just at the very moment when

salvation seemed within our reach. Every detail of the incident passed

before my mental vision, but I could not grasp it--I could not seem to

think it real. I can never explain it. These poor girls were more to me

than loving sisters. They turned the black night of my desolate

existence into sunshine, and they were perpetually devising some sweet

little surprise--some little thing which would please me and add

additional brightness to our daily lives. This dreadful thing happened

many years ago, but to this day, and to the day of my death, I feel sure

I shall suffer agonies of grief and remorse (I blame myself for not

having forbidden them to go in the canoe) for this terrible catastrophe.

After we returned to the land, I haunted the sea-shore for hours, hoping

to see the bodies rise to the surface; but I watched in vain. When at

length the full magnitude of the disaster dawned upon me, despair--the

utter abandonment of despair--filled my soul for the first time. Never

again would my sweet companions cheer my solitary moments. Never again

would I see their loved forms, or hear their low, musical voices. Never

again would we play together like children on the sand. Never again

would we build aerial castles about the bright and happy future that was

in store for us, looking back from the bourne of civilisation on our

fantastic adventures. Never again should we compare our lot with that of

Robinson Crusoe or the Swiss Family Robinson.

My bright dream had passed away, and with a sudden revulsion of feeling I

realised that the people around me were repulsive cannibals, among whom I

was apparently doomed to pass the remainder of my hideous days--a fate

infinitely more terrible than that of joining my darlings beneath the

restless waves, that beat for ever on that lonely shore. I was a long

time before I could even bring myself to be thankful for Yamba's escape,

which was no doubt dreadfully ungrateful of me. I can only ask your pity

and sympathy in my terrible affliction. What made my sorrow and remorse

the more poignant, was the reflection that if I had retained one atom of

my self-possession I would never have dreamed of approaching the little

European vessel at the head of a whole flotilla of catamarans, filled

with yelling and gesticulating savages. As to the people on board the

vessel, I exonerated them then, and I exonerate them now, from all blame.

Had you or I been on board, we should probably have done exactly the same

thing under the circumstances.

Clearly the only reasonable plan of action was to have gone alone; but

then, at critical times, even the wisest among us is apt to lose his

head. God knows I paid dearly enough for my lack of judgment on this

melancholy occasion.

My wound was not at all serious, and, thanks to Yamba's care, it quickly

healed, and I was able to get about once more.

But I ought to tell you that when we returned I could not bear to go into

our hut, where every little bunch of withered flowers, every garment of

skin, and every implement, proclaimed aloud the stunning loss I had

sustained. No, I went back direct to the camp of the natives, and

remained among them until the moment came for my departure. I think it

was in the soft, still nights that I felt it most. I wept till I was as

weak as a baby. Oh the torments of remorse I endured--the fierce

resentment against an all-wise Providence! "Alone! alone! alone!" I

would shriek in an agony of wretchedness; "Gone! gone! gone! Oh, come

back to me, come back to me, I cannot live here now."

And I soon realised that it was impossible for me to remain there any

longer. There was much weeping and lamentation among the native women,

but I guessed it was not so much on account of the poor girls, as out of

sympathy for the loss the great white chief had sustained. I think Yamba

went among them, and pointed out the magnitude of the disaster; otherwise

they would have failed to grasp it. What was the loss of a woman or two

to them? I felt, I say, that I could not settle down in my hut again,

and I was consumed with an intense longing to go away into the wilderness

and there hide my grief. In making an attempt to reach civilisation, I

thought this time of going due south, so that perhaps I might ultimately

reach Sydney, or Melbourne, or Adelaide. I argued thus casually to

myself, little dreaming of the vast distances--mountain ranges and

waterless deserts--that separated me from these great cities. For all I

knew, I might have come upon them in a few weeks! All I was certain of

was that they lay somewhere to the south. Time was no object to me, and

I might as well be walking in the direction of civilisation as remaining

in idle misery in my bay home, brooding over the disaster that had

clouded my life and made it infinitely more intolerable than it was

before the girls came.

Yamba instantly agreed to accompany me, and a few weeks after the loss of

the girls we started out once more on our wanderings, accompanied by my

ever faithful dog.

Bruno also missed his young mistresses. He would moan and cry pitifully,

and run aimlessly up and down the beach looking out to sea. Ah! had I

only taken Bruno on that fatal day, he would not have let my dear ones

drown!

As I have said, I remained only a few weeks in my bay home, and then

departed. The blacks, too, left the spot, for they never stay where the

shadow of death lies, fearing the unpleasant attentions of the spirits of

the deceased. The parting between me and my people was a most affecting

one, the women fairly howling in lamentations, which could be heard a

great distance away. They had shown such genuine sympathy with me in my

misfortune that our friendship had very materially increased; but in

spite of this good feeling, I knew I could never be happy among them

again.

So we started off into the unknown, with no more provision or equipment

than if we were going for a stroll of a mile or so. Yamba carried her

yam-stick and basket, and I had my usual weapons--tomahawk and stiletto

in my belt, and bow and arrows in my hand. I never dreamed when we

started that to strike due south would take us into the unexplored heart

of the continent. Day after day, however, we walked steadily on our

course, steering in a very curious manner. We were guided by the ant-

hills, which are always built facing the east, whilst the top inclines

towards the north; and we knew that the scratches made on trees by the

opossums were invariably on the north side.

We often steered by the habits of insects, wasps' nests, and other

curious auguries, fixing our position at night by the stars and in the

daytime by our own shadows. Yamba always went in front and I followed.

The bush teemed with fruits and roots. After leaving our own camp in the

Cambridge Gulf region we struck a fine elevated land, excellently well

watered; and later on we followed the Victoria River in a south-easterly

direction through part of the Northern Territories of South Australia. We

at length struck a peculiar country covered with coarse grass ten feet or

twelve feet high--not unlike the sugar-cane which I afterwards saw, but

much more dense.

It was, of course, impossible for us to pursue our course due south,

owing to the forests and ranges which we encountered; we had, as a matter

of fact, to follow native and kangaroo tracks wherever they took us--east,

west, and even north occasionally, generally to water-holes. The

progress of the natives is simply from one water supply to another. But

as far as possible we pursued our way south. You will understand that

this kind of travelling was very different from that which we experienced

on the Victoria River--which, by the way, traversed a very fine country.

As we ascended it we passed many isolated hills of perhaps a few hundred

feet, and nowhere did I see any scrub or spinifex.

After leaving the Victoria we came upon a more elevated plateau covered

with rather fine but short grass; the trees were scarcer here, but finer

and bigger. There was plenty of water in the native wells and in the

hollows, although we frequently had to remove a few stones to get at it.

There were plenty of kangaroos and emus about, as well as turkeys; these

latter provided us with an unwonted dish, to say nothing of their

delicious eggs.

Another reason for our coming round out of our course when we came to

forests was because but little food was found in them. Kangaroos and

other animals were seldom or never found there: they abounded usually in

the more scrubby country. Our progress was very leisurely, and, as we

met tribe after tribe, we ingratiated ourselves with them and camped at

their wells. Occasionally we came upon curious rivers and lagoons that

ran into the earth and disappeared in the most mysterious way, only to

reappear some distance farther on. Of course, I may be mistaken in this,

but such at any rate was my impression.

One day as we were marching steadily along, Yamba startled me by calling

out excitedly, "Up a tree,--quick! Up a tree!" And so saying she

scampered up the nearest tree herself. Now, by this time I had become so

accustomed to acting upon her advice unquestioningly, that without

waiting to hear any more I made a dash for the nearest likely tree and

climbed into it as fast as I could. Had she called out to me, "Leap into

the river," I should have done so without asking a question. When I was

safely in the branches, however, I called out to her (her tree was only a

few yards away), "What is the matter?" She did not reply, but pointed to

a vast stretch of undulating country over which we had just come; it was

fairly well wooded. It lingers in my mind as a region in which one was

able to see a fairly long way in every direction--a very unusual feature

in the land of "Never Never"!

I looked, but at first could see nothing. Presently, however, it seemed

to me that the whole country in the far distance was covered with a black

mantle, _which appeared to be made up of living creatures_.

Steadily and rapidly this great mysterious wave swept along towards us;

and seeing that I was both puzzled and alarmed, Yamba gave me to

understand that _we should presently be surrounded by myriads of rats_,

stretching away in every direction like a living sea. The phenomenon was

evidently known to Yamba, and she went on to explain that these creatures

were migrating from the lowlands to the mountains, knowing by instinct

that the season of the great floods was at hand. That weird and

extraordinary sight will live in my memory for ever. I question whether

a spectacle so fantastic and awe-inspiring was ever dealt with, even in

the pages of quasi-scientific fiction. It was impossible for me to

observe in what order the rats were advancing, on account of the great

stretch of country which they covered. Soon, however, their shrill

squeals were distinctly heard, and a few minutes later the edge of that

strange tide struck our tree and swept past us with a force impossible to

realise. No living thing was spared. Snakes, lizards--ay, even the

biggest kangaroos--succumbed after an ineffectual struggle. The rats

actually ate those of their fellows who seemed to hesitate or stumble.

The curious thing was that the great army never seemed to stand still. It

appeared to me that each rat simply took a bite at whatever prey came his

way, and then passed on with the rest.

I am unable to say how long the rats were in passing--it might have been

an hour. Yamba told me that there would have been no help for us had we

been overtaken on foot by these migratory rodents. It is my opinion that

no creature in Nature, from the elephant downwards, could have lived in

that sea of rats. I could not see the ground between them, so closely

were they packed. The only creatures that escaped them were birds. The

incessant squealing and the patter of their little feet made an

extraordinary sound, comparable only to the sighing of the wind or the

beat of a great rain-storm. I ought to mention, though, that I was

unable accurately to determine the sound made by the advancing rats owing

to my partial deafness, which you will remember was caused by the great

wave which dashed me on to the deck of the _Veielland_, just before

landing on the sand-spit in the Sea of Timor. I often found this

deafness a very serious drawback, especially when hunting. I was

sometimes at a loss to hear the "coo-ee" or call of my natives. Fortunate

men! _they_ did not even understand what deafness meant. Lunacy also was

unknown among them, and such a thing as suicide no native can possibly

grasp or understand. In all my wanderings I only met one idiot or

demented person. He had been struck by a falling tree, and was

worshipped as a demi-god!

When the rats had passed by, we watched them enter a large creek and swim

across, after which they disappeared in the direction of some ranges

which were not very far away. They never seemed to break their ranks;

even when swimming, one beheld the same level brownish mass on the

surface of the water. Yamba told me that this migration of rats was not

at all uncommon, but that the creatures rarely moved about in such vast

armies as the one that had just passed.

I also learned that isolated parties of migrating rats were responsible

for the horrible deaths of many native children, who had, perhaps, been

left behind in camp by their parents, who had gone in search of water.

Up to this time we had always found food plentiful. On our southward

journey a particularly pleasant and convenient article of diet turned up

(or fell down) in the form of the _maru_, as it is called, which collects

on the leaves of trees during the night. Both in its appearance and

manner of coming, this curious substance may be likened to the manna that

fell in the wilderness for the benefit of the Israelites. This _maru_ is

a whitish substance, not unlike raw cotton in appearance. The natives

make bread of it; it is rather tasteless, but is very nutritious, and

only obtained at certain times--for example, it never falls at the time

of full moon, and is peculiar to certain districts.

During this great southward journey many strange things happened, and we

saw a host of curious sights. I only wish I could trust my memory to

place these in their proper chronological order.

We had several visitations of locusts; and on one occasion, some months

after leaving home, they settled upon the country around us so thickly as

actually to make a living bridge across a large creek. On several

occasions I have had to dig through a living crust of these insects, six

or eight inches thick, in order to reach water at a water-hole. These

locusts are of a yellowish-brown colour (many are grey), and they range

in length from two to four inches.

As they rise in the air they make a strange cracking, snapping sound; and

they were often present in such myriads as actually to hide the face of

the sun. I found them excellent eating when grilled on red-hot stones.

Yamba, of course, did all the cooking, making a fire with her ever-ready

fire-stick, which no native woman is ever without; and while she looked

after the supply of roots and opossum meat, I generally provided the

snakes, emus, and kangaroos. Our shelter at night consisted merely of a

small _gunyah_ made of boughs, and we left the fire burning in front of

this when we turned in.

When we had been fully three months out, a very extraordinary thing

happened, which to many people would be incredible were it not recognised

as a well-known Australian phenomenon. We had reached a very dry and

open grass country, where there was not a tree to be seen for miles and

miles. Suddenly, as Yamba and I were squatting on the ground enjoying a

meal, we saw a strange black cloud looming on the horizon, and hailed its

advent with the very greatest delight, inasmuch as it presaged rain--which

is always so vitally important a visitation in the "Never Never." We

waited in anticipation until the cloud was right over our heads. Then

the deluge commenced, and to my unbounded amazement I found that with the

rain _live fish as big as whitebait were falling from the clouds_! When

this wonderful rain-storm had passed, large pools of water were left on

the surface of the ground, and most of these were fairly alive with fish.

This surface-water, however, evaporated in the course of a few days, and

then, as the blazing sun beat down upon the fish-covered country, we

found the region growing quite intolerable on account of the awful

stench.

Talking of storms, I have seen it stated that the Australian natives are

in a state of high glee whenever they hear thunder. This is perfectly

true, but I have never seen any explanation of this joy. It is simple

enough. The natives know that thunder presages rain, which is always a

blessing of great price in that thirsty country.

I think this was the first time I had actually _seen_ it rain fish. But

I had often been surprised, to find water-holes, and even the pools in

grassy plains, literally alive with fish a few days after a storm. And

they grew with astounding rapidity, provided the water did not evaporate.

This was in the vicinity of my Cambridge Gulf home.

We remained in the neighbourhood for some time, living on a most welcome

fish diet. Very frequently in our wanderings we were provided with

another dainty in the shape of a worm, which, when broiled over charcoal,

had the flavour of a walnut.

These worms we found in the grass trees, which grow to a height of ten to

twenty feet, and have bare trunks surmounted by what looks at a distance

like a big bunch of drooping bulrushes. The worms were of a whitish

colour, and were always found in the interior of a well-matured or

decaying stem; so that all we had to do was to push the tree over with

our feet and help ourselves.

In the course of our wanderings we usually went from tribe to tribe,

staying a little time with some, and with others merely exchanging

greetings. With some tribes we would perhaps travel a little way south,

and only part with them when they were about to strike northwards; and as

their course was simply from water-hole to water-hole, as I have told

you, it was always pretty erratic.

CHAPTER XIII

My usual introduction--A serious entertainment--The power of the

bow--Repulsive blacks--Mysterious spears--Waterless wastes--A battle with

snakes--More prestige--Rubies thrown away--Quarrying extraordinary.

Occasionally one of the tribes would display hostility towards us at

first sight, but I generally managed to ingratiate myself into their good

graces by the exercise of a little diplomacy--and acrobatics. Curiously

enough, many of these tribes did not display much surprise at seeing a

white man, apparently reserving all their amazement for Bruno's bark and

the white man's wonderful performances.

I may here remark that, in the event of our coming across a hostile tribe

who fought shy of my friendly advances, I would, without ceremony,

introduce myself by dashing into their midst and turning a few

somersaults or Catherine-wheels such as the London _gamins_ display for

the benefit of easily-pleased excursionists. This queer entertainment

usually created roars of laughter, and set every one at his ease.

I remember once being surprised by the sudden appearance over the crest

of a hillock of about twenty blacks, all well armed and presenting rather

a formidable appearance. The moment they caught sight of Yamba and

myself they halted, whereupon I advanced and called out to them that I

was a friend, at the same time holding out my passport stick. By the

way, the efficacy of this talisman varied according to the tribes. Yamba

could make neither head nor tail of these people; they jabbered in a

language quite unintelligible to either of us. I then reverted to the

inevitable sign language, giving them to understand that I wished to

sleep with them a night or two; but they still continued to brandish

their spears ominously. Yamba presently whispered in my ear that we had

better not trouble them any further, as they were evidently inclined to

be pugnacious. This was a very exceptional _rencontre_, because I

usually induced the natives to sit down and parley with me, and then I

would produce my mysterious stick. In the event of this proving of

little account, both I and Bruno would without a moment's hesitation

plunge into our performance. It always began with a few somersaults.

Bruno needed no looking after. He knew his business, and went through

his own repertoire with great energy and excitement. The accompanying

barks were probably involuntary, but they were a great help in

astonishing and impressing the natives.

Even in this instance I was unwilling to retire defeated; so suddenly

pulling out one of my little reed whistles capable of producing two

notes, I commenced a violent jig to my own "music." The effect on the

scowling and ferocious-looking blacks was quite magical. They

immediately threw down their spears and laughed uproariously at my

vigorous antics. I danced till I was quite tired, but managed to wind up

the entertainment with a few somersaults, which impressed them vastly.

I had conquered. When I had finished they advanced and greeted me most

heartily, and from that moment we were friends. I had completely done

away with their enmity by my simple efforts to amuse them. For the most

part, this was my invariable experience. The natives were the easiest

people in the world to interest and amuse, and when once I had succeeded

in winning them in this way, they were our warmest friends. This band of

warriors took us back to their camping-ground, some miles away, and

actually gave a great feast in my honour that evening, chanting the

wonderful things they had seen until far into the night. The place where

I met these blacks was a broken, stony, and hilly country, which,

however, abounded in roots and snakes--especially snakes. My hosts had

evidently had a recent battue, or fire hunt, for they had a most

extraordinary stock of food. So completely had I won them over, that I

actually hung up my bow and arrows along with their spears before

retiring to rest. The expression "hung up" may seem curious, so I hasten

to explain that the natives tied up their spears in bunches and placed

them on the scrub bushes.

Next morning I brought down a few hawks on the wing with my bow and

arrows, and then the amazement of the natives was quite comical to

witness. Shooting arrows in a straight line astonished them somewhat,

but the more bombastic among them would say, "Why I can do that," and

taking his woomerah he would hurl a spear a long distance. Not one of

them, however, was able _to throw a spear upwards_, so I scored over even

the most redoubtable chiefs. It may be well to explain, that birds are

always to be found hovering about a native camp; they act as scavengers,

and their presence in the sky is always an indication that an encampment

is somewhere in the vicinity. These birds are especially on the spot

when the blacks set fire to the bush and organise a big battue. At such

times the rats and lizards rush out into the open, and the hawks reap a

fine harvest.

My natives are referred to as "blacks," or "black-fellows," but they are

not really _black_, their hue being rather a brown, ranging from a very

dark brown, indeed, to almost the lightness of a Malay. I found the

coast tribes lightest in hue, while the inland natives were very much

darker. Here I may mention that after having been on my way south for

some months, I began to notice a total difference between the natives I

met and my own people in the Cambridge Gulf district. The tribes I was

now encountering daily were inferior in physique, and had inferior war

implements; I do not remember that they had any shields.

The blacks I had whistled and jigged before were, perhaps, the ugliest of

all the aborigines I had met, which was saying a very great deal. The

men were very short, averaging little more than five feet, with low

foreheads and hideously repulsive features. I noticed, however, that the

animals they had for food seemed very much fatter than similar creatures

farther north. One thing I was grateful to these people for was honey,

which I urgently required for medicinal purposes. They were very sorry

when we left them, and a small band of warriors accompanied us on our

first day's march. We were then handed on from tribe to tribe, smoke

signals being sent up to inform the next "nation" that friendly strangers

were coming.

Nevertheless, I gradually became uneasy. We were evidently getting into

a country where the greatest of our wonders could not save us from the

hostility of the natives. We presently encountered another tribe, who

not only at first refused to accept our friendly overtures, but even

threatened to attack us before I had time to consider another plan. I

tried the effect of my whistle, but even this failed in its effect; and

to my alarm, before I could give them an exhibition of my acrobatic

powers they had hurled one or two war spears, which whizzed by

unpleasantly close to my head. Without further ado, well knowing that

vacillation meant death, I sent half-a-dozen arrows in succession amongst

them, taking care, however, to aim very low, so as not unduly to injure

my opponents.

The hostile blacks came to a sudden halt, as they found the mysterious

spears flying round them, and then watching my opportunity, I dashed

forward right among them, and turned over and over in a series of rapid

and breathless somersaults.

I had conquered again. Do not blame the natives, for with them every

stranger is an enemy until he has proved himself a friend. Hence it is

that when white men suddenly appear among these natives they run imminent

risk of being promptly speared, unless they can make it quite clear that

no harm is intended.

Bruno ran the same risk. Incident after incident of this kind happened

almost daily, and although they involved some peril, yet they came as a

welcome break when life on the march grew too monotonous. Deliberate

treachery was very rare among the natives I came across, but it was by no

means altogether absent; and, notwithstanding all my knowledge, my wife

and I were sometimes in serious danger of our lives.

One day we came upon a tribe as usual, and after the customary

preliminaries were gone through they became apparently quite friendly. I

was careful never unduly to exhibit my steel tomahawk, which I always

kept in a kind of sheath or covering of opossum-skin, so that it might

not arouse envy; a second motive for this was to prevent its chafing my

body. I never used either stiletto or tomahawk unless absolutely

necessary, reserving both for great emergencies. I knew they could never

be replaced, so it behoved me jealously to guard such precious

possessions. I never even used my stiletto at meal-times, nor even in

cutting up animals for food, lest the blood should rust the blade and eat

it away. Many times already had it come in useful at close

quarters--notably in the case of the fight with the alligator and the

killing of the cannibal chief who owned the white girls.

The chief of the tribe I am discussing saw me using my tomahawk one day,

and eagerly asked me to make over the implement to him as a gift. I

courteously told him that I could not do so. He seemed somewhat

disappointed at my refusal, but did not appear to bear me any ill-feeling

in consequence. The blacks, by the way, seldom cut down trees except for

spears, and the reason for this is very curious. They imagine the tree

to be a thing of life, and when they are forced to cut one down, quite a

religious ceremony is held, and profuse apologies made to the tree for

taking its life.

They never even take a strip of bark right round, knowing that this will

kill the tree; they always leave a little bit of connecting bark.

As some reason for the refusal of my tomahawk was expected, I told the

chief that it was part of my life--indeed, part of my very being, which

was perfectly true. I also worked on the chief's superstitions, assuring

him earnestly that if I parted with the weapon it would so anger the

spirits as to bring about a terrible curse in the country. The tomahawk

I declared was a direct gift to me from the Sun itself, so how could I

part with it? I had thought of offering it, curses and all, but the risk

of prompt acceptance was too great.

That night Yamba warned me that trouble was impending. For myself I

never knew, and I suppose she read the signs among the men and got

certain definite information from the women. We therefore slept some

miles away from the encampment in a makeshift gunyah built of boughs, in

front of which the usual fire was made. After we had retired to rest,

Yamba woke me and said that she detected strange noises. I immediately

sprang to my feet and looked all round our little shelter. It was much

too dark for me to see anything distinctly, but I fancied I heard

retreating footsteps. Utterly at a loss to account for this strange

occurrence, and fearing that some danger threatened us, Yamba and I

covered in the front of the shelter, and then quietly retired into the

bush, where we lay hidden without a fire until morning. When we returned

to our shelter it was broad daylight, and, as we half expected, we found

three formidable spears buried in the sides of our little hut. Three

others were stuck in the ground near the fire, clearly proving that an

attempt had been made upon our lives during the night. On examining the

spears we found they most certainly belonged to the tribe we had left the

previous day. The spear-heads were of a different kind of flint from

anything I had previously seen, being dark green in colour; and they were

extremely sharp. The individuality of the different tribes is strongly

and decidedly marked in the make of their spears. Our treacherous hosts

had evidently determined to obtain the coveted tomahawk by force, and

when they reached the spot where they supposed we lay (they could not see

into the interior from the front), they hurled their spears in the hope

of killing us, but did not investigate the result, they being such arrant

cowards at night. Remember, they had actually ventured at night into the

bush in spite of their inveterate fear of "the spirits."

The precaution adopted on this occasion was always followed by us when we

had any real doubt about the natives; that is to say, we built a "dummy"

gunyah of boughs, which we were supposed to sleep in; and we covered in

the front so as our possible assailants could not easily detect our

absence. We would then creep away into the bush or hide behind a tree,

and, of course, would light no fire.

Many times was that same tomahawk coveted. You see, the natives would

watch me cutting boughs with it, or procuring honey by cutting down

branches with an ease that caused them to despise their own rude stone

axes.

The case of treachery I have just described was not an isolated one, but

I am bound to say such occurrences were rare in the interior--although

more or less frequent about the western shores of the Gulf of

Carpentaria. At any rate, this was my experience.

During our journey from my home to the shores of the Gulf, I remember

coming across a flat country from which the natives had apparently

disappeared altogether. When we did come upon them, however, in the high

ground I was probably guilty of some little breach of etiquette, such as

_looking_ at the women--(for many reasons I always studied the various

types in a tribe)--and Yamba and I were often in peril of our lives on

this account. As a rule, however, safety lay in the fact that the

natives are terribly afraid of darkness, and they believe the spirits of

the dead roam abroad in the midnight hours.

Month after month we continued our progress in a southerly direction,

although, as I have said before, we often turned north-east and even due

west, following the valleys when stopped by the ranges--where, by the

way, we usually found turkeys in great numbers. We had water-bags made

out of the skins of kangaroos and wallabies, and would camp wherever

possible close to a native well, where we knew food was to be found in

plenty.

At this period I noticed that the more easterly I went, the more ranges I

encountered; whilst the somewhat dreary and mostly waterless lowland lay

to the west. We would sometimes fail to obtain water for a couple of

days; but this remark does not apply to the mountainous regions. Often

the wells were quite dry and food painfully scarce; this would be in a

region of sand and spinifex.

When I beheld an oasis of palms and ti-trees I would make for it, knowing

that if no water existed there, it could easily be got by digging. The

physical conditions of the country would change suddenly, and my

indefatigable wife was frequently at fault in her root-hunting

expeditions. Fortunately, animal life was very seldom scarce. On the

whole, we were extremely fortunate in the matter of water,--although the

natives often told me that the low wastes of sand and spinifex were

frequently so dry, that it was impossible even for them to cross. What

astonished me greatly was that the line of demarcation between an utter

desert and, say, a fine forest was almost as sharply marked as if it had

been drawn with a rule. A stretch of delightfully wooded country would

follow the dreary wastes, and this in turn would give place to fairly

high mountain ranges.

Once, during a temporary stay among one of the tribes, the chief showed

me some very interesting caves among the low limestone ranges that were

close by. It was altogether a very rugged country. Always on the look-

out for something to interest and amuse me, and always filled with a

strange, vague feeling that something _might_ turn up unexpectedly which

would enable me to return to civilisation, I at once determined to

explore these caves; and here I had a very strange and thrilling

adventure.

Whilst roaming among the caves I came across a pit measuring perhaps

twenty feet in diameter and eight feet or nine feet in depth. It had a

sandy bottom; and as I saw a curious-looking depression in one corner, I

jumped down to investigate it, leaving Bruno barking at the edge of the

pit, because I knew I should have some trouble in hoisting him up again

if I allowed him to accompany me. I carried a long stick, much longer

than a waddy; perhaps it was a yam-stick--I cannot remember. At any

rate, just as I was about to probe a mysterious-looking hole, I beheld

with alarm and amazement the ugly head of a large black snake suddenly

thrust out at me from a dark mass, which I presently found was the

decayed stump of a tree. I fell back as far as possible, and then saw

that the reptile had quite uncoiled itself from the stem, and was coming

straight at me. I promptly dealt it a violent blow on the body, just

below that point where it raised its head from the ground. No sooner had

I done this than another dark and hissing head came charging in my

direction. Again I struck at the reptile's body and overpowered it. Next

came a third, and a fourth, and fifth, and then I realised that the whole

of the dead stump was simply one living mass of coiled snakes, which were

probably hibernating. One after another they came at me; of course, had

they all come at once, no power on earth could have saved me. I wondered

how long this weird contest would be kept up; and again and again between

the attacks I tried to escape, but had scarcely taken an upward step when

another huge reptile was upon me.

I was aware that Bruno was running backwards and forwards at the edge of

the pit all this time, barking frantically in a most excited state. He

knew perfectly well what snakes were, having frequently been bitten. I

owe my life on this occasion solely to the fact that the snakes were in a

torpid state, and came at me one at a time instead of altogether. It was

the cold season, about the month of June or July. It is impossible at

such moments to take any account of time, so I cannot say how long the

battle lasted. At length, however, I was able to count the slain. I did

this partly out of curiosity and partly because I wanted to impress the

natives--to boast, if you prefer that phrase. Modesty, where modesty is

unknown, would have been absurd, if not fatal to my prestige. Well, in

all there were _sixty-eight black snakes_, _averaging about four feet six

inches in length_.

I do not remember that I was fatigued; I think my excitement was too

great for any such feeling to have made itself felt. When at length I

was able to get away, I and Bruno rushed off to the native camp a few

miles away, and brought back the blacks to see what I had done. The

spectacle threw them into a state of great amazement, and from that time

on I was looked upon with the greatest admiration. The story of how I

had killed the snakes soon spread abroad among the various tribes for

miles round, and was chanted by many tribes, the means of

inter-communication being the universal smoke-signals. One important

consequence of this adventure was that I was everywhere received with the

very greatest respect.

It may be mentioned here that no matter how unfriendly tribes may be,

they always exchange news by means of smoke-signals. I may also say that

at _corroborees_ and such-like festivities a vast amount of poetic

boasting and exaggeration is indulged in, each "hero" being required to

give practical demonstrations of the things he has seen, the doughty

deeds he has done, &c. He warms up as he goes along, and magnifies its

importance in a ridiculous way. It amuses me to this day to recall my

own preposterous songs about how I killed the two whales _with my

stiletto_, and other droll pretensions. But, ah! I was serious enough

then!

In the mountainous region where I encountered the snakes, I also met a

native who actually spoke English. He called himself either Peter or

Jacky Jacky--I cannot remember which; but in any case it was a name given

him by pearlers. He had once lived with some pearlers near the north-

west coast of Western Australia--probably on the De Grey River. His

story was quite unprecedented among the blacks, and he gave me many

terrible instances of the perfidy shown by white adventurers towards the

unfortunate natives. The precise locality where I met this man was

probably near Mount Farewell, close to the border-line of South Australia

and Western Australia. Well, then, Jacky Jacky--to give him the name

which lingers most tenaciously in my mind--was persuaded to join in a

pearling expedition, together with a number of his companions. They all

accepted engagements from the whites, on the distinct understanding that

they were to be away about three moons. Instead, they were practically

kidnapped by force, and treated--or rather ill-treated--as slaves for

several years.

First of all, the poor creatures were taken to an island in the vicinity

of North-West Cape, off which the pearling fleet lay. During the voyage

to the pearling grounds the water supply on board ran short, and so great

was the suffering among the blacks--they were kept on the shortest of

short commons, as you may suppose--that they plotted to steal a cask of

the precious fluid for their own use. The vessel was quite a small one,

and the water was kept in the hold. But the two or three whites who

formed the crew forcibly prevented the black-fellows from carrying out

their plan. This gave rise to much discontent, and eventually the

blacks, in desperation, openly rose and mutinied. Arming themselves with

heavy pieces of firewood they proceeded to attack their masters, and some

of them succeeded in getting at the water, in spite of the whites, by

simply knocking the bungs out of the casks. The captain thereupon went

down to parley with them, but was met by a shower of blows from the heavy

sticks I have just mentioned. Half-stunned, he dashed out of the hold,

got his musket, and fired down among the mutineers, hitting one black-

fellow in the throat, and killing him instantly. Far from infuriating

the rest, as would most certainly have been the case with any other race,

this course of action terrified the blacks, and they barricaded

themselves down below. Eventually the whites again sought them and made

peace, the blacks promising to conduct themselves more obediently in the

future. It may here be said that the ship had called specially at Jacky

Jacky's home on the coast to kidnap the natives.

On arriving at the pearling settlement, the blacks found themselves among

a number of other unfortunate creatures like themselves, and all were

compelled to go out in pearling vessels just as the exigencies of the

industry required. Jacky Jacky himself was kept at this work for upwards

of three years; and he told me many terrible stories of the white man's

indescribable cruelty and villainy. He and his companions were

invariably chained up during the night and driven about like cattle in

the daytime. Many of his mates at the pearling settlement had been

kidnapped from their homes in a cruel and contemptible manner, and herded

off like sheep by men on horseback armed with formidable weapons.

Their sufferings were very great because, of course, they were totally

unused to work of any kind. The enforced exile from home and the dreary

compulsory labour made the life far worse than death for these primitive

children of Nature. Then, again, they were exiled from their wives, who

would, of course, be appropriated in their absence--another tormenting

thought. They were frequently beaten with sticks, and when they

attempted to run away they were speared as enemies by other tribes;

whilst, in the event of their escaping altogether, they would not have

been recognised even when they returned to their own homes. One day

Jacky Jacky's ship came into a little bay on the mainland for water, and

then my enterprising friend, watching his opportunity, struck inland for

home and liberty, accompanied by several other companions in misery.

These latter the coast natives promptly speared, but Jacky Jacky escaped,

thanks probably to his knowledge of the white man's wiles. He soon

reached the more friendly mountain tribes in the interior, where he was

received as a man and a brother. You see, he had stolen a revolver from

his late masters, and this mysterious weapon created great terror among

his new friends. Altogether he posed as quite a great man, particularly

when his story became known. He worked his way from tribe to tribe,

until at length he got to the ranges where I met him--quite a vast

distance from the coast.

Many parts of the extensive country I traversed on my southward journey,

after the death of the girls, were exceedingly rich in minerals, and

particularly in gold, both alluvial and in quartz. As I was making my

way one day through a granite country along the banks of a creek, I

beheld some reddish stones, which I at once pounced upon and found to be

beautiful rubies. Having no means of carrying them, however, and as they

were of no value whatever to me, I simply threw them away again, and now

merely record the fact. I also came across large quantities of alluvial

tin, but this, again, was not of the slightest use, any more than it had

been when I found it in very large quantities in the King Leopold Ranges.

The test I applied to see whether it really _was_ tin was to scratch it

with my knife. Even when large quantities of native gold lay at my feet,

I hardly stooped to pick it up, save as a matter of curiosity. Why

should I? What use was it to me? As I have stated over and over again

in public, I would have given all the gold for a few ounces of salt,

which I needed so sorely. Afterwards, however, I made use of the

precious metal in a very practical manner, but of this more hereafter. At

one place--probably near the Warburton Ranges in Western Australia--I

picked up an immense piece of quartz, which was so rich that it appeared

to be one mass of virgin gold; and when on showing it to Yamba I told her

that in my country men were prepared to go to any part of the world, and

undergo many terrible hardships to obtain it, she thought at first I was

joking. Indeed, the thing amused her ever after, as it did the rest of

my people. I might also mention that up in the then little-known

Kimberley district, many of the natives weighted their spears with pure

gold. I must not omit to mention that natives never poison their spear-

heads. I only found the nuggets, big and little, near the creeks during

and after heavy rains; and I might mention that having with some

difficulty interested Yamba in the subject, she was always on the look-

out for the tell-tale specks and gleams. In some of the ranges, too, I

found the opal in large and small quantities, but soon discovered that

the material was too light and brittle for spear-heads, to which curious

use I essayed to put this beautiful stone. Talking about spear-heads, in

the ranges where I met Jacky Jacky there was a quarry of that kind of

stone which was used for the making of war and other implements. It was

very much worked, and as you may suppose was a valuable possession to the

tribe in whose territory it was situated. The stone was a kind of flint,

extremely hard and capable of being made very sharp, and retaining its

edge. Natives from far and near came to barter for the stone with

shells, and ornaments which these inland tribes did not possess. The

method of getting out the stone was by building fires over it, and then

when it had become red-hot throwing large and small quantities of water

upon it in an amazingly dexterous way. The stone would immediately be

split and riven exactly in the manner required.

My very first discovery of gold was made in some crevices near a big

creek, which had cut its way through deep layers of conglomerate hundreds

of feet thick. This country was an elevated plateau, intersected by

deeply cut creeks, which had left the various strata quite bare, with

curious concave recesses in which the natives took shelter during the wet

season. One of the nuggets I picked up in the creek I have just

mentioned weighed several pounds, and was three or four inches long; it

was rather more than an inch in thickness. This nugget I placed on a

block of wood and beat out with a stone, until I could twist it easily

with my fingers, when I fashioned it into a fillet as an ornament for

Yamba's hair. This she continued to wear for many years afterwards, but

the rude golden bracelets and anklets I also made for her she gave away

to the first children we met.

In many of the rocky districts the reefs were evidently extremely rich;

but I must confess I rarely troubled to explore them. In other regions

the gold-bearing quartz was actually a curse, our path being covered with

sharp pebbles of quartz and slate, which made ever step forward a

positive agony. Wild ranges adjoined that conglomerate country, which,

as you have probably gathered, is extremely difficult to traverse.

Certainly it would be impossible for camels.

CHAPTER XIV

An eventful meeting--Civilisation at last--Rage and despair--A white

man's tracks--Yamba's find--Good Samaritans--Bitter disappointment--Bruno

as guardian--A heavy burden--A strange invitation--The mysterious

monster--"Come, and be our chief"--I discover a half-caste girl--The fate

of Leichhardt--"In the valley of the shadow"--A sane white man--Gibson is

dying--Vain efforts--Unearthly voices.

When we had been on the march southwards about nine months there came one

of the most important incidents in my life, and one which completely

changed my plans. One day we came across a party of about eight

natives--all young fellows--who were on a punitive expedition; and as

they were going in our direction (they overtook us going south), we

walked along with them for the sake of their company. The country

through which we were passing at that time is a dreary, undulating

expanse of spinifex desert, with a few scattered and weird-looking palms,

a little scrub, and scarcely any signs of animal life. The further east

we went, the better grew the country; but, on the other hand, when we

went westward we got farther and farther into the dreary wastes. At the

spot I have in my mind ranges loomed to the south--a sight which cheered

me considerably, for somehow I thought I should soon strike civilisation.

Had not the blacks we were with taken us to some wells we would have

fared very badly indeed in this region, as no water could be found except

by digging. I noticed that the blacks looked for a hollow depression

marked by a certain kind of palm, and then dug a hole in the gravel and

sandy soil with their hands and yam-sticks. They usually came upon water

a few feet down, but the distance often varied very considerably.

We were crossing the summit of a little hill, where we had rested for a

breathing space, when, without the least warning I suddenly beheld, a few

hundred yards away, in the valley beneath, _four while men on horseback_!

I think they had a few spare horses with them, but, of course, all that I

saw were the four white men. I afterwards learned that, according to our

respective routes, we would have crossed their track, but they would not

have crossed ours. They were going west. They wore the regulation dress

of the Australian--broad sombrero hats, flannel shirts, and rather dirty

white trousers, with long riding-boots. I remember they were moving

along at a wretched pace, which showed that their horses were nearly

spent. Once again, notwithstanding all previous bitter lessons, my

uncontrollable excitement was my undoing. "Civilisation at last!" I

screamed to myself, and then, throwing discretion to the winds, I gave

the war-whoop of the blacks and rushed madly forward, yelling myself

hoarse, and supremely oblivious of the fantastic and savage appearance I

must have presented--with my long hair flowing wildly out behind, and my

skin practically indistinguishable from that of an ordinary black-fellow.

My companions, I afterwards discovered, swept after me as in a furious

charge, _for they thought I wanted to annihilate the white men at sight_.

Naturally, the spectacle unnerved the pioneers, and they proceeded to

repel the supposed attack by firing a volley into the midst of us. Their

horses were terrified, and reared and plunged in a dangerous manner,

thereby greatly adding to the excitement of that terrible moment. The

roar of the volley and the whizz of the shots brought me to my senses,

however, and although I was not hit, I promptly dropped to the ground

amidst the long grass, as also did Yamba and the other blacks. Like a

flash my idiotic blunder came home to me, and then I was ready to dash

out again alone to explain; but Yamba forcibly prevented me from exposing

myself to what she considered certain death.

The moment the horsemen saw us all disappear in the long grass they

wheeled round, changing their course a little more to the south--they had

been going west, so far as I can remember--and their caravan crawled off

in a manner that suggested that the horses were pretty well done for. On

our part, we at once made for the ranges that lay a little to the south.

Here we parted with our friends the blacks, who made off in an east-south-

easterly direction.

The dominant feeling within me as I saw the white men ride off was one of

uncontrollable rage and mad despair. I was apparently a pariah, with the

hand of every white man--when I met one--against me. "Well," I thought,

"if civilisation is not prepared to receive me, I will wait until it is."

Disappointment after disappointment, coupled with the incessant

persuasions of Yamba and my people generally, were gradually reconciling

me to savage life; and slowly but relentlessly the thought crept into my

mind that _I was doomed never to reach civilisation again_, and so

perhaps it would be better for me to resign myself to the inevitable, and

stay where I was. I would turn back, I thought, with intense bitterness

and heart-break, and make a home among the tribes in the hills, where we

would be safe from the white man and his murderous weapons. And I

actually _did_ turn back, accompanied, of course, by Yamba. We did not

strike due north again, as it was our intention to find a permanent home

somewhere among the ranges, at any rate for the ensuing winter. It was

out of the question to camp where we were, because it was much too cold;

and besides Yamba had much difficulty in finding roots.

Several days later, as we were plodding steadily along, away from the

ranges that I have spoken of as lying to the south, Yamba, whose eyes

were usually everywhere, suddenly gave a cry and stood still, pointing to

some peculiar and unmistakable footprints in the sandy ground. These,

she confidently assured me, were those of a white man _who had lost his

reason_, and was wandering aimlessly about that fearful country. It was,

of course, easy for her to know the white man's tracks when she saw them,

but I was curious how she could be certain that the wanderer had lost his

reason. She pointed out to me that, in the first place, the tracks had

been made by some one wearing boots, and as the footprints straggled

about in a most erratic manner, it was clearly evident that the wearer

could not be sane.

Even at this time, be it remembered, I was burning with rage against the

whites, and so I decided to follow the tracks and find the individual who

was responsible for them. But do not be under any misapprehension. My

intentions were not philanthropic, but revengeful. I had become a black-

fellow myself now, and was consumed with a black-fellow's murderous

passion. At one time I thought I would follow the whole party, and kill

them in the darkness with my stiletto when opportunity offered.

The new tracks we had come upon told me plainly that the party had

separated, and were therefore now in my power. I say these things

because I do not want any one to suppose I followed up the tracks of the

lost man with the intention of rendering him any assistance. For nearly

two days Yamba and I followed the tracks, which went in curious circles

always trending to the left. At length we began to come upon various

articles that had apparently been thrown away by the straggler. First of

all, we found part of a letter that was addressed to some one (I think)

in Adelaide; but of this I would not be absolutely certain. What I do

remember was that the envelope bore the postmark of Ti Tree Gully, S.A.

The writer of that letter was evidently a woman, who, so far as I can

remember, wrote congratulating her correspondent upon the fact that he

was joining an expedition which was about to traverse the entire

continent. I fancy she said she was glad of this for his own sake, for

it would no doubt mean much to him. She wished him all kinds of glory

and prosperity, and wound up by assuring him that none would be better

pleased on his return than she.

The country through which these tracks led us was for the most part a

mere dry, sandy waste, covered with the formidable spinifex or porcupine

grass. Yamba walked in front peering at the tracks.

Presently she gave a little cry, and when she turned to me I saw that she

had in her hand the sombrero hat of an Australian pioneer. A little

farther on we found a shirt, and then a pair of trousers. We next came

upon a belt and a pair of dilapidated boots.

At length, on reaching the crest of a sandy hillock, we suddenly beheld

the form of a naked white man lying face downwards in the sand below us.

As you may suppose, we simply swooped down upon him; but on reaching him

my first impression was that _he was dead_! His face was slightly turned

to the right, his arms outstretched, and his fingers dug convulsively in

the sand. I am amused now when I remember how great was our emotion on

approaching this unfortunate. My first thought in turning the man over

on to his back, and ascertaining that at last he breathed, was one of

great joy and thankfulness.

"Thank God," I said to myself, "I have at last found a white

companion--one who will put me in touch once more with the great world

outside." The burning rage that consumed me (you know my object in

following the tracks) died away in pity as I thought of the terrible

privations and sufferings this poor fellow must have undergone before

being reduced to this state. My desire for revenge was forgotten, and my

only thought now was to nurse back to health the unconscious man.

First of all I moistened his mouth with the water which Yamba always

carried with her in a skin bag, and then I rubbed him vigorously, hoping

to restore animation. I soon exhausted the contents of the bag, however,

and immediately Yamba volunteered to go off and replenish it. She was

absent an hour or more, I think, during which time I persisted in my

massage treatment--although so far I saw no signs of returning

consciousness on the part of my patient.

When Yamba returned with the water, I tried to make the prostrate man

swallow some of it, and I even smeared him with the blood of an opossum

which my thoughtful helpmate had brought back with her. But for a long

time all my efforts were in vain, and then, dragging him to the foot of a

grass-tree, I propped him up slightly against it, wetted his shirt with

water and wound it round his throat. Meanwhile Yamba threw water on him

and rubbed him vigorously.

At last he uttered a sound--half groan, half sigh (it thrilled me through

and through); and I noticed that he was able to swallow a few drops of

water. The gloom of night was now descending on that strange wilderness

of sand and spinifex, so we prepared to stay there with our helpless

charge until morning. Yamba and I took it in turns to watch over him and

keep his mouth moistened. By morning he had so far revived that he

opened his eyes and looked at me. How eagerly had I anticipated that

look, and how bitter was my disappointment when I found that it was a

mere vacant stare in which was no kind of recognition! Ever hopeful,

however, I attributed the vacant look to the terrible nature of his

sufferings. I was burning to ply him with all manner of questions as to

who he was, where he had come from, and what news he had of the outside

world; but I restrained myself by a great effort, and merely persevered

in my endeavours to restore him to complete animation. When the morning

was pretty well advanced the man was able to sit up; and in the course of

a few days he was even able to accompany us to a water-hole, where we

encamped, and stayed until he had practically recovered--or, at any rate,

was able to get about.

But, you may be asking, all this time, did the man himself say nothing?

Indeed, he said much, and I hung upon every syllable that fell from his

lips, but, to my indescribable chagrin, it was a mere voluble jargon of

statements, which simply baffled and puzzled me and caused me pain. Our

charge would stare at us stolidly, and then remark, in a vulgar Cockney

voice, that he was quite _sure_ we were going the wrong way. By this

time, I should mention, we had re-clothed him in his trousers and shirt,

for he had obviously suffered terribly from the burning sun.

Many days passed away before I would admit to myself that this unhappy

creature was a hopeless imbecile. I was never absent from his side day

or night, hoping and waiting for the first sane remark. Soon, however,

the bitter truth was borne in upon us that, instead of having found

salvation and comfort in the society of a white man, we were merely

saddled with a ghastly encumbrance, and were far worse off than before.

We now set off in the direction of our old tracks, but were not able to

travel very fast on account of the still feeble condition of the white

stranger. Poor creature! I pitied him from the bottom of my heart. It

seemed so terrible for a man to lapse into a state of imbecility after

having survived the dreadful hardships and adventures that had befallen

him. I tried over and over again to elicit sensible replies to my

questions as to where he came from; but he simply gibbered and babbled

like a happy baby. I coaxed; I threatened; I persuaded; but it was all

in vain. I soon found he was a regular millstone round my

neck--particularly when we were on the "walk-about." He would suddenly

take it into his head to sit down for hours at a stretch, and nothing

would induce him to move until he did so of his own accord.

Curiously enough, Bruno became very greatly attached to him, and was his

constant companion. Of this I was extremely glad, because it relieved me

of much anxiety. You will understand what I mean when I tell you that,

in spite of all our endeavours, our mysterious companion would go off by

himself away from our track; and at such times were it not for Bruno--whom

he would follow anywhere--we would often have had much trouble in

bringing him back again. Or he might have been speared before a strange

tribe could have discovered his "sacred" (idiotic) condition.

At length we reached a large lagoon, on the shores of which we stayed for

about two years. This lagoon formed part of a big river at flood-time,

but the connecting stretches of water had long since dried up for many

miles both above and below it. The question may be asked, Why did I

settle down here? The answer is, that our white companion had become

simply an intolerable burden. He suffered from the most exhausting

attacks of dysentery, and was quite helpless. It was, of course, my

intention to have continued my march northward to my old home in the

Cambridge Gulf district, because by this time I had quite made up my mind

that, by living there quietly, I stood a better chance of escape to

civilisation by means of some vessel than I did by attempting to traverse

the entire continent. This latter idea was now rendered impossible, on

account of the poor, helpless creature I had with me. Indeed, so great

an anxiety was he to me and Yamba, that we decided we could go nowhere,

either north or south, until he had become more robust in health.

Needless to say, I never intrusted him with a weapon.

I had found a sheath-knife belonging to him, but I afterwards gave it

away to a friendly chief, who was immensely proud of it.

In making for the shores of the big lagoon we had to traverse some

extremely difficult country. In the first place, we encountered a series

of very broken ridges, which in parts proved so hard to travel over that

I almost gave up in despair. At times there was nothing for it but to

carry on my back the poor, feeble creature who, I felt, was now intrusted

to my charge and keeping. I remember that native chiefs frequently

suggested that I should leave him, but I never listened to this advice

for a moment. Perhaps I was not altogether disinterested, because

already my demented companion was looked upon as a kind of minor deity by

the natives. I may here remark that I only knew two idiots during the

whole of my sojourn. One of these had fallen from a tree through a

branch breaking, and he was actually maintained at the expense of the

tribe, revered by all, if not actually worshipped.

But the journey I was just describing was a fearful trial. Sometimes we

had to traverse a wilderness of rocks which stood straight up and

projected at sharp angles, presenting at a distance the appearance of a

series of stony terraces which were all but impassable. For a long time

our charge wore both shirt and trousers, but eventually we had to discard

the latter--or perhaps it would be more correct to say, that the garment

was literally torn to shreds by the spinifex. At one time I had it in my

mind to make him go naked like myself, but on consideration I thought it

advisable to allow him to retain his shirt, at any rate for a time, as

his skin was not so inured to the burning sun as my own.

We had to provide him with food, which he accepted, of course, without

gratitude. Then Yamba had always to build him a shelter wherever we

camped, so that far from being an invaluable assistance and a companion

he was a burden--so great that, in moments of depression, I regretted not

having left him to die. As it was, he would often have gone to his death

in the great deserts were it not for the ever-vigilant Bruno. Still, I

always thought that some day I would be able to take the man back to

civilisation, and there find out who he was and whence he had come. And

I hoped that people would think I had been kind to him. At first I

thought the unfortunate man was suffering from sunstroke, and that in

course of time he would regain his reason. I knew I could do very little

towards his recovery except by feeding him well. Fortunately the natives

never called upon him to demonstrate before them the extraordinary powers

which I attributed to him. Indeed his strange gestures, antics, and

babblings were sufficient in themselves to convince the blacks that he

was a creature to be reverenced. The remarkable thing about him was that

he never seemed to take notice of any one, whether it were myself, Yamba,

or a native chief. As a rule, his glance would "go past me," so to

speak, and he was for ever wandering aimlessly about, chattering and

gesticulating.

We placed no restrictions upon him, and supplied all his wants, giving

him Bruno as a guide and protector. I must say that Yamba did not like

the stranger, but for my sake she was wonderfully patient with him.

It was whilst living on the shores of this lagoon that I received a very

extraordinary commission from a neighbouring tribe. Not long after my

arrival I heard a curious legend, to the effect that away on the other

side of the lagoon there was an "evil spirit" infesting the waters, which

terrified the women when they went down to fill their skins. Well,

naturally enough, the fame of the white man and his doings soon got

abroad in that country, and I was one day invited by the tribe in

question to go and rid them of the evil spirit. Accordingly, accompanied

by Yamba, and leaving Bruno to look after our helpless companion, we set

off in response to the invitation, and in a few days reached the camp of

the blacks who had sent for me. The lagoon was here surrounded by a

finely-wooded country, slightly mountainous. Perhaps I ought to have

stated that I had already gleaned from the mail-men, or runners, who had

been sent with the message, that the waters of the lagoon in the vicinity

of the camp had long been disturbed by some huge fish or monster, whose

vagaries were a constant source of terror. The dreaded creature would

come quite close inshore, and then endeavour to "spear" the women with

what was described as a long weapon carried in its mouth. This, then,

was the evil spirit of the lagoon, and I confess it puzzled me greatly. I

thought it probable that it was merely a large fish which had descended

in a rain-cloud among countless millions of others of smaller species. I

looked upon the commission, however, as a good opportunity for displaying

my powers and impressing the natives in that country--I always had the

utmost confidence in myself. Before setting out I had spent some little

time in completing my preparations for the capture of the strange

monster.

The very afternoon I arrived I went down to the shores of the lagoon with

all the natives, and had not long to wait before I beheld what was

apparently a huge fish careering wildly and erratically hither and

thither in the water. On seeing it the natives appeared tremendously

excited, and they danced and yelled, hoping thereby to drive the creature

away. My first move was in the nature of an experiment--merely with the

object of getting a better view of the monster. I endeavoured to angle

for it with a hook made out of a large piece of sharpened bone. I then

produced large nets made out of strips of green hide and stringy-bark

rope. Placing these on the shores of the lagoon, I directed Yamba to

build a little bark canoe just big enough to hold her and me.

At length we embarked and paddled out a few hundred yards, when we threw

the net overboard. It had previously been weighted, and now floated so

that it promptly expanded to its utmost capacity. No sooner had we done

this than the invisible monster charged down upon us, making a tremendous

commotion in the water. Neither Yamba nor I waited for the coming

impact, but threw ourselves overboard just as the creature's white

sawlike weapon showed itself close to the surface only a few yards away.

We heard a crash, and then, looking backward as we swam, saw that the

long snout of the fish had actually pierced both sides of the canoe,

whilst his body was evidently entangled in the meshes of the net. So

desperate had been the charge that our little craft was now actually a

serious encumbrance to the monster. It struggled madly to free itself,

leaping almost clear of the water and lashing the placid lagoon into a

perfect maelstrom.

Several times the canoe was lifted high out of the water; and then the

fish would try to drag it underneath, but was prevented by its great

buoyancy. In the meantime Yamba and I swam safely ashore, and watched

the struggles of the "evil spirit" from the shore, among a crowd of

frantic natives.

We waited until the efforts of the fish grew feebler, and then put off in

another bark canoe (the celerity with which Yamba made one was something

amazing), when I easily despatched the now weakened creature with my

tomahawk. I might here mention that this was actually the first time

that these inland savages had seen a canoe or boat of any description, so

that naturally the two I launched occasioned endless amazement.

Afterwards, by the way, I tried to describe to them what the sea was

like, but had to give it up, because it only confused them, and was quite

beyond their comprehension. When we dragged the monster ashore, with its

elongated snout still embedded in the little canoe, I saw at a glance

that the long-dreaded evil spirit of the lagoon was a huge sawfish, fully

fourteen feet long, its formidable saw alone measuring nearly five feet.

This interesting weapon I claimed as a trophy, and when I got back to

where Bruno and his human charge were, I exhibited it to crowds of

admiring blacks, who had long heard of the evil spirit. The great fish

itself was cooked and eaten at one of the biggest _corroborees_ I had

ever seen. The blacks had no theory of their own (save the superstitious

one), as to how it got into the lagoon; and the only supposition I can

offer is, that it must have been brought thither, when very small and

young, either by a rain-cloud or at some unusually big flood time.

So delighted were the blacks at the service I had done them, that they

paid me the greatest compliment in their power by offering me a

chieftainship, and inviting me to stay with them for ever. I refused the

flattering offer, however, as I was quite bent on getting back to

Cambridge Gulf.

On returning to my friends on the other side of the lagoon I learned for

the first time that there was a half-caste girl living among them; and

subsequent inquiries went to prove that her father was a white man who

had penetrated into these regions and lived for some little time at least

among the blacks--much as I myself was doing. My interest in the matter

was first of all roused by the accidental discovery of a cairn five feet

or six feet high, made of loose flat stones. My experience was such by

this time that I saw at a glance this cairn was not the work of a native.

Drawings and figures, and a variety of curious characters, were faintly

discernible on some of the stones, but were not distinct enough to be

legible.

On one, however, I distinctly traced the initials "L. L.," which had

withstood the ravages of time because the stone containing them was in a

protected place.

Naturally the existence of this structure set me inquiring among the

older natives as to whether they ever remembered seeing a white man

before; and then I learned that perhaps twenty years previously a man

like myself _had_ made his appearance in those regions, and had died a

few months afterwards, before the wife who, according to custom, was

allotted to him had given birth to the half-caste baby girl, who was now

a woman before me. They never knew the white stranger's name, nor where

he had come from. The girl, by the way, was by no means good-looking,

and her skin was decidedly more black than white; I could tell by her

hand, however, that she was a half-caste.

On the strength of our supposed affinity, she was offered to me as a

wife, and I accepted her, more as a help for Yamba than anything else;

she was called Luigi. Yamba, by the way, was anxious that I should

possess at least half-a-dozen wives, partly because this circumstance

would be more in keeping with my rank; but I did not fall in with the

idea. I had quite enough to do already to maintain my authority among

the tribe at large, and did not care to have to rule in addition half-a-

dozen women in my own establishment. This tribe always lingers in my

memory, on account of the half-caste girl, whom I now believe to have

been the daughter of Ludwig Leichhardt, the lost Australian explorer. Mr.

Giles says: "Ludwig Leichhardt was a surgeon and botanist, who

successfully conducted an expedition from Moreton Bay to Port Essington,

on the northern coast. A military and penal settlement had been

established at Port Essington by the Government of New South Wales, to

which colony the whole territory then belonged. At this settlement--the

only point of relief after eighteen months' travel--Leichhardt and his

exhausted party arrived.

"Of Leichhardt's sad fate, in the interior of Australia, no certain

tidings have ever been heard. I, who have wandered into and returned

alive from the curious regions he attempted and died to explore, have

unfortunately never come across a single record, nor any remains or

traces of the party."

Leichhardt started on his last sad venture with a party of eight,

including one or two native black-boys. They had with them about twenty

head of bullocks broken in to carry pack loads. "My first and second

expeditions," says Giles, "were conducted entirely with horses, but in

all subsequent journeys I was accompanied by camels." His object, like

that of Leichhardt, was to force his way across the thousand miles of

country that lay untrodden and unknown between the Australian telegraph

line and the settlements upon the Swan River. And Giles remarks that the

exploration of 1000 miles in Australia is equal to at least 10,000 miles

on any other part of the earth's surface--always excepting the Poles.

I continued residing on the shores of the lagoon in the hope that my

patient would eventually get better, when I proposed continuing my

journey north. I was still quite unable to understand his babblings,

although he was for ever mentioning the names of persons and places

unknown to me; and he constantly spoke about some exploring party. He

never asked me questions, nor did he get into serious trouble with the

natives, being privileged. He never developed any dangerous vices, but

was simply childlike and imbecile.

Gradually I had noticed that, instead of becoming stronger, he was fading

away. He was constantly troubled with a most distressing complaint, and

in addition to this he would be seized with fits of depression, when he

would remain in his hut for days at a time without venturing out. I

always knew what was the matter with him when he was not to be seen.

Sometimes I would go in to try and cheer him up, but usually it was a

hopeless effort on my part.

Of course he had a wife given him, and this young person seemed to

consider him quite an ordinary specimen of the white man. Indeed, she

was vastly flattered, rather than otherwise, by the attentions lavished

upon her husband by her people. One reason for this treatment was that

she was considered a privileged person to be related in any way to one

whom the natives regarded as almost a demi-god. She looked after him

too, and kept his hut as clean as possible. One morning something

happened. The girl came running for me to go to her hut, and there lay

the mysterious stranger apparently stretched out for dead. I soon

realised that he was in a fit of some kind.

I now approach the momentous time when this unfortunate man recovered his

senses. When he regained consciousness after the fit Yamba and I were

with him, and so was his wife. I had not seen him for some days, and was

much shocked at the change that had taken place. He was ghastly pale and

very much emaciated. I knew that death was at hand. Just as he regained

consciousness--I can see the picture now; yes, we were all around his

fragrant couch of eucalyptus leaves, waiting for him to open his eyes--he

gazed at me in a way that thrilled me strangely, and _I knew I was

looking at a sane white man_. His first questions were "Where am I? Who

are you?" Eager and trembling I knelt down beside him and told him the

long and strange story of how I had found him, and how he had now been

living with me nearly two years. I pointed out to him our faithful

Bruno, who had often taken him for long walks and brought him back

safely, and who had so frequently driven away from him deadly snakes, and

warned him when it was time to turn back. I told him he was in the

centre of Australia; and then I told in brief my own extraordinary story.

I sent Yamba to our shelter for the letter I had found in his tracks, and

read it aloud to him. He never told me who the writer of it was. He

listened to all I had to tell him with an expression of amazement, which

soon gave place to one of weariness--the weariness of utter weakness. He

asked me to carry him outside into the sun, and I did so, afterwards

squatting down beside him and opening up another conversation. _He then

told me his name was Gibson_, _and that he had been a member of the Giles

Expedition of_ 1874. From that moment I never left him night or day. He

told me much about that expedition which I can never reveal, for I do not

know whether he was lying or raving. Poor, vulgar, Cockney Gibson! He

seemed to know full well that he was dying, and the thought seemed to

please him rather than otherwise. He appeared to me to be too tired, too

weary to live--that was the predominant symptom.

I introduced Yamba to him, and we did everything we possibly could to

cheer him, but he gradually sank lower and lower. I would say, "Cheer

up, Gibson. Why, when you are able to walk we will make tracks

straightway for civilisation. I am sure you know the way, for now you

are as right as I am." But nothing interested the dying man. Shortly

before the end his eyes assumed a strained look, and I could see he was

rapidly going. The thought of his approaching end was to me a relief; it

would be untrue if I were to say otherwise. For weeks past I had seen

that the man could not live, and considering that every day brought its

battle for life, you will readily understand that this poor helpless

creature was a terrible burden to me. He had such a tender skin that at

all times I was obliged to keep him clothed. For some little time his

old shirt and trousers did duty, but at length I was compelled to make

him a suit of skins. Of course, we had no soap with which to wash his

garments, but we used to clean them after a fashion by dumping them down

into a kind of greasy mud and then trampling on them, afterwards rinsing

them out in water. Moreover, his feet were so tender that I always had

to keep him shod with skin sandals.

His deathbed was a dramatic scene--especially under the circumstances.

Poor Gibson! To think that he should have escaped death after those

fearful waterless days and nights in the desert, to live for two years

with a white protector, and yet then die of a wasting and distressing

disease!

He spent the whole day in the open air, for he was very much better when

in the sun. At night I carried him back into his hut, and laid him in

the hammock which I had long ago slung for him. Yamba knew he was dying

even before I did, but she could do nothing.

We tried the effect of the curious herb called "pitchori," but it did not

revive him. "Pitchori," by the way, is a kind of leaf which the natives

chew in moments of depression; it has an exhilarating effect upon them.

On the last day I once more made up a bed of eucalyptus leaves and rugs

on the floor of Gibson's hut. Surrounding him at the last were his

wife--a very good and faithful girl--Yamba, myself, and Bruno--who, by

the way, knew perfectly well that his friend was dying. He kept licking

poor Gibson's hand and chest, and then finding no response would nestle

up close to him for half-an-hour at a time. Then the affectionate

creature would retire outside and set up a series of low, melancholy

howls, only to run in again with hope renewed.

Poor Gibson! The women-folk were particularly attached to him because he

never went out with the men, or with me, on my various excursions, but

remained behind in their charge. Sometimes, however, he would follow at

our heels as faithfully and instinctively as Bruno himself. For the past

two years Bruno and Gibson had been inseparable, sleeping together at

night, and never parting for a moment the whole day long. Indeed, I am

sure Bruno became more attached to Gibson than he was to me. And so

Gibson did not, as I at one time feared he would, pass away into the

Great Beyond, carrying with him the secret of his identity. Looking at

him as he lay back among the eucalyptus leaves, pale and emaciated, I

knew the end was now very near.

I knelt beside him holding his hand, and at length, with a great effort,

he turned towards me and said feebly, "Can you hear anything?" I

listened intently, and at last was compelled to reply that I did not.

"Well," he said, "I hear some one talking. I think the voices of my

friends are calling me." I fancied that the poor fellow was wandering in

his mind again, but still his eyes did not seem to have that vacant gaze

I had previously noticed in them. He was looking steadily at me, and

seemed to divine my thoughts, for he smiled sadly and said, "No, I know

what I am saying. I can hear them singing, and they are calling me away.

They have come for me at last!" His thin face brightened up with a slow,

sad smile, which soon faded away, and then, giving my hand a slight

pressure, he whispered almost in my ear, as I bent over him, "Good-bye,

comrade, I'm off. You will come too, some day." A slight shiver, and

Gibson passed peacefully away.

CHAPTER XV

Lost in the desert--Gibson's dying advice--Giles meets Gibson--A fountain

in the desert--A terrible fix--Giles regains his camp--Gibson's

effects--Mysterious tracks--A treasured possession--A perfect

paradise--Grape vines a failure--A trained cockatoo--An extraordinary

festival--My theory of the "ghosts."

After the funeral his wife followed out the usual native conventions. She

covered herself with pipeclay for about one month. She also mourned and

howled for the prescribed three days, and gashed her head with stone

knives, until the blood poured down her face. Gibson's body was not

buried in the earth, but embalmed with clay and leaves, and laid on a

rock-shelf in a cave.

The general belief was that Gibson had merely gone back to the Spirit

Land from whence he had come, and that, as he was a great and good man,

he would return to earth in the form of a bird--perhaps an ibis, which

was very high indeed. I must say I never attached very much importance

to what he said, even in his sane moments, because he was obviously a man

of low intelligence and no culture. If I remember rightly, he told me

that the expedition to which he was attached left Adelaide with the

object of going overland to Fremantle. It was thoroughly well equipped,

and for a long time everything went well with the party. One day, whilst

some of them were off exploring on their own account, he lost himself.

He rather thought that the sun must have affected his brain even then,

because he didn't try to find his companions that night, but went to

sleep quite contentedly under a tree. He realised the horror of his

position keenly enough the next morning, however, and rode mile after

mile without halting for food or water, in the hope of quickly regaining

his friends at the chief camp. But night stole down upon him once more,

and he was still a lonely wanderer, half delirious with thirst; the

supply he had carried with him had long since given out.

Next morning, when he roused himself, he found that his horse had

wandered away and got lost. After this he had only a vague recollection

of what happened. Prompted by some strange, unaccountable impulse, he

set out on a hopeless search for water, and went walking on and on until

all recollection faded away, and he remembered no more. How long he had

been lost when I found him he could not say, because he knew absolutely

nothing whatever about his rescue. So far as I remember, he was a

typical specimen of the Australian pioneer--a man of fine physique, with

a full beard and a frank, but unintelligent, countenance. He was perhaps

five feet nine inches in height, and about thirty years of age. When I

told him the story of my adventures he was full of earnest sympathy for

me, and told me that if ever I intended leaving those regions for

civilisation again, my best plan would be to steer more south-east, as it

was in that direction that Adelaide lay.

He also informed me that the great trans-Continental telegraph wire was

being constructed from north to south. This he advised me to strike and

follow to civilisation.

I may be permitted a little digression here to give a few extracts from

Giles's book, "Australia Twice Traversed" (Sampson Low & Company), for

this contains the version of the leader of the expedition himself as to

the circumstances under which Gibson was lost. In all, it seems, Giles

made five exploring expeditions into and through Central South Australia

and Western Australia from 1872 to 1876. Speaking of his second

expedition, Mr. Giles says: "I had informed my friend, Baron Von Mueller,

by wire from the Charlotte Waters Telegraph station, of the failure and

break-up of my first expedition, and he set to work and obtained new

funds for me to continue my labours. I reached Adelaide late in January

1873, and got my party together. We left early in March of 1873, and

journeyed leisurely up-country to Beltana, then past the Finnis Springs

to the Gregory. We then journeyed up to the Peake, where we were

welcomed by Messrs. Bagot at the Cattle Station, and Mr. Blood of the

Telegraph Department. Here we fixed up all our packs, sold Bagot the

waggon, and bought horses and other things. We now had twenty

pack-horses and four riding-horses."

We next come to the introduction of Gibson. "Here a short young man

accosted me, and asked me if I didn't remember him. He said he was

'Alf.' I thought I knew his face, but I thought it was at the Peake that

I had seen him; but he said, 'Oh, no! Don't you remember Alf, with

Bagot's sheep at the north-west bend of the Murray? My name's Alf

Gibson, and I want to go out with you.' I said, 'Well, can you shoe? Can

you ride? Can you starve? Can you go without water? And how would you

like to be speared by the blacks?' He said he could do everything I had

mentioned, and he wasn't afraid of the blacks. He was not a man I would

have picked out of a mob, but men were scarce, and he seemed so anxious

to come, so I agreed to take him.

"Thus, the expedition consisted of four persons--myself (Ernest Giles),

Mr. William Henry Tietkins, Alf Gibson, and James Andrews; with twenty-

four horses and two little dogs. On Monday, 4th August, we finally left

the encampment."

Now here is the passage in which Mr. Giles describes his dramatic parting

with Gibson. It will be found in the chapter marked "20th April to 21st

May 1874": "Gibson and I departed for the West. I rode the 'Fair Maid of

Perth.' I gave Gibson the big ambling horse, 'Badger,' and we packed the

big cob with a pair of water-bags that contained twenty gallons. As we

rode away, I was telling Gibson about various exploring expeditions and

their fate, and he said, 'How is it that, in all these exploring

expeditions, a lot of people go and die?' He said, 'I shouldn't like to

die in this part of the country, anyhow.'

"We presently had a meal of smoked horse. It was late when we encamped,

and the horses were much in want of water,--especially the big cob, who

kept coming up to the camp all night and trying to get at our water-bags.

We had one small water-bag hung in a tree.

"I didn't think of that until my mare came straight up to it and took it

in her teeth, forcing out the cork, and sending the water up, which we

were both dying to drink, in a beautiful jet. Gibson was now very sorry

he had exchanged 'Badger' for the cob, as he found the latter very dull

and heavy to get along. There had been a hot wind from the north all

day, and the following morning (the 23rd of April), there was a most

strange dampness in the air, and I had a vague feeling, such as must have

been felt by augurs and seers of old, who trembled as they told events to

come; _for this was the last day on which I ever saw Gibson_.

"As Gibson came along after me, he called out that his horse was going to

die. The hills to the west were twenty-five to thirty miles away, and I

had to give up trying to reach them. How I longed for a camel! Gibson's

horse was now so bad as to place both of us in a great dilemma. We

turned back in our tracks, when the cob refused to carry his rider any

farther, and tried to lie down. We drove him another mile on foot, and

down he fell to die. My mare, the 'Fair Maid of Perth,' was only too

willing to return, but she had now to carry Gibson's saddle and things,

and away we went, walking and riding in turns of one half-hour each.

"When we got back to about thirty miles from a place which I had named

'The Kegs,' I shouted to Gibson, who was riding, to stop until I walked

up to him. By this time we had hardly a pint of water left between us.

"We here finished the supply, and I then said, as I could not speak

before, 'Look here, Gibson, you see we are in a most terrible fix, with

only one horse. Only one can ride, and one must remain behind. I shall

remain; and now listen to me. If the mare does not get water soon, she

will die; therefore, ride right on; get to the Kegs, if possible,

to-night, and give her water. Now that the cob is dead, there'll be all

the more water for her. Early to-morrow you will sight the Rawlinson, at

twenty-five miles from the Kegs. Stick to the tracks and never leave

them. Leave as much water in one keg for me as you can afford, after

watering the mare and filling up your own bags; and, remember, I depend

upon you to bring me relief.'

"Gibson said if he had a compass he thought he could go better by night.

I knew he didn't understand anything about compasses, as I had often

tried to explain them to him. The one I had was a Gregory's Patent, of a

totally different construction from ordinary instruments of the kind, and

I was loth to part with it, as it was the only one I had. However, as he

was so anxious for it, I gave it to him, and away he went. I sent one

final shout after him to stick to the tracks, and he said, 'All right'

and the mare carried him out of sight almost instantly.

"Gibson had left me with a little over two gallons of water, which I

could have drunk in half-an-hour. All the food I had was eleven sticks

of dirty, sandy, smoked horse, averaging about an ounce and a half each.

"On the first of May, as I afterwards found out, at one o'clock in the

morning, I staggered into the camp, and awoke Mr. Tietkins at daylight.

He glared at me as if I had been one risen from the dead. I asked him if

he had seen Gibson. It was nine days since I last saw him. The next

thing was to find Gibson's remains. It was the 6th of May when we got

back to where he had left the right line. As long as he had remained on

the other horses' tracks it was practicable enough to follow him, but the

wretched man had left them and gone away in a far more southerly

direction, having the most difficult sand-hills to cross at right angles.

We found he had burnt a patch of spinifex where he had left the other

horses' tracks.

"Whether he had made any mistake in steering by the compass or not it is

impossible to say; but instead of going east, as he should have done, he

actually went south, or very near it.

"I was sorry to think that the unfortunate man's last sensible moments

must have been embittered by the thought that, as he had lost himself in

the capacity of messenger for my relief, I, too, must necessarily fall a

victim to his mishap.

"I called this terrible region, lying between the Rawlinson Range and the

next permanent water that may eventually be found to the north, 'Gibson's

Desert,'--after this first white victim to its horrors.

"In looking over Gibson's few effects, Mr. Tietkins and I found an old

pocket-book, a drinking-song, and a certificate of his marriage. He had

never told us he was married."

And now to resume my own narrative. You will remember that I had settled

down for a considerable time on the shores of the lagoon, where I had

made everything around me as comfortable as possible. Yamba had no

difficulty whatever in keeping us well supplied with roots and

vegetables; and as kangaroos, opossums, snakes, and rats abounded, we had

an ample supply of meat, and the lagoon could always be relied upon to

provide us with excellent fish. The country itself was beautiful in the

extreme, with stately mountains, broad, fertile valleys, extensive

forests,--and, above all, plenty of water. The general mode of living

among the natives was much the same as that prevailing among the blacks

in my own home at Cambridge Gulf,--although these latter were a vastly

superior race in point of physique, war weapons, and general

intelligence. The people I now found myself among were of somewhat small

stature, with very low foreheads, protruding chins, high cheek-bones, and

large mouths. Their most noteworthy characteristic was their extreme

childishness, which was especially displayed on those occasions when I

gave an acrobatic performance. My skill with the bow and arrow was, as

usual, a never-ending source of astonishment. I was, in fact, credited

with such remarkable powers that all my ingenuity had sometimes to be

brought into play to accomplish, or to pretend to accomplish, the things

expected of me. I knew that I must never fail in anything I undertook.

In the interior the natives never seemed to grow very plump, but had a

more or less spare, not to say emaciated, appearance compared with the

tribes near the coast. For one thing, food is not so easily obtainable,

nor is it so nourishing. Moreover, the natives had to go very long

distances to procure it.

Besides the low, receding forehead and protruding chin I have already

hinted at as characteristic of the inland tribes, I also noticed that

these people had abnormally large feet. Also, the beards of the men were

not nearly so full or luxuriant as those of the blacks at Cambridge Gulf.

The average height of the lagoon tribe was little more than five feet.

For myself, I am about five feet seven and a half inches in height, and

therefore I stalked about among them like a giant.

Now that Gibson was dead I decided to move my home farther north, and

eventually settled down with my family (two children--a boy and a

girl--had been born to me during my residence on the shores of the

lagoon) in a beautiful mountainous and tropical region 200 or 300 miles

to the north. It was my intention only to have made a temporary stay

here, but other ties came, and my little ones were by no means strong

enough to undertake any such formidable journey as I had in

contemplation. I also made the fatal mistake of trying to bring my

offspring up differently from the other savage children. But I must

relate here an incident that happened on our journey north. Yamba came

to me one day positively quivering with excitement and terror, and said

she had found some strange tracks, apparently of some enormous beast--a

monster so fearful as to be quite beyond her knowledge.

She took me to the spot and pointed out the mysterious tracks, which I

saw at once were those of camels. I do not know why I decided to follow

them, because they must have been some months old. Probably, I

reflected, I might be able to pick up something on the tracks which would

be of use to me. At any rate, we did follow the tracks for several

days--perhaps a fortnight--and found on the way many old meat-tins, which

afterwards came in useful as water vessels. One day, however, I pounced

upon an illustrated newspaper--a copy of the Sydney _Town and Country

Journal_, bearing some date, I think in 1875 or 1876. It was a complete

copy with the outer cover. I remember it contained some pictures of

horse-racing--I believe at Paramatta; but the "Long Lost Relative" column

interested me most, for the very moment I found the paper I sat down in

the bush and began to read this part with great eagerness. I could read

English fairly well by this time, and as Yamba was also tolerably

familiar with the language, I read the paper aloud to her. I cannot say

she altogether understood what she heard, but she saw that I was

intensely interested and delighted, and so she was quite content to stay

there and listen. You will observe that in all cases, the very fact that

_I_ was pleased was enough for Yamba, who never once wavered in her

fidelity and affection. Altogether we spent some weeks following up

these tracks, but, of course, never came up with the caravan of camels,

which must have been some months ahead of us. Yamba at length appeared

to be a good deal wearied at my persistency in following up the tracks in

this way; but after all, was it not merely killing time?--a mild sort of

sensation which served to break the eternal monotony that sometimes

threatened to crush me.

How I treasured that soiled copy of the _Town and Country_--as it is

familiarly called in Sydney! I read and re-read it, and then read it all

over again until I think I could have repeated every line of it by heart,

even to the advertisements. Among the latter, by the way, was one

inserted apparently by an anxious mother seeking information concerning a

long-lost son; and this pathetic paragraph set me wondering about my own

mother. "Well," I thought, "she at least has no need to advertise, and I

have the satisfaction of knowing that she must by this time be quite

reconciled to my loss, and have given me up as dead long ago." Strangely

enough, this thought quite reconciled me to my exile. In fact, I thanked

Providence that my disappearance had been so complete and so prolonged as

to leave not the slightest cause for doubt or hope on the part of any of

my relatives. Had I for a moment imagined that my mother was still

cherishing hopes of seeing me again some day, and that she was undergoing

agonies of mental suspense and worry on my behalf, I think I would have

risked everything to reach her. But I knew quite well that she must have

heard of the loss of the _Veielland_, and long ago resigned herself to

the certainty of my death. I can never hope to describe the curious

delight with which I perused my precious newspaper. I showed the

pictures in it to my children and the natives, and they were more than

delighted,--especially with the pictures of horses in the race at

Paramatta. In the course of time the sheets of paper began to get torn,

and then I made a pretty durable cover out of kangaroo hide. Thus the

whole of my library consisted of my Anglo-French Testament, and the copy

of the _Town and Country Journal_.

But I have purposely kept until the end the most important thing in

connection with this strangely-found periodical. The very first eager

and feverish reading gave me an extraordinary shock, which actually

threatened my reason! In a prominent place in the journal I came across

the following passage: "_The Deputies of Alsace and Lorraine have refused

to vote in the German Reichstag_."

Now, knowing nothing whatever of the sanguinary war of 1870, or of the

alterations in the map of Europe which it entailed, this passage filled

me with startled amazement. I read it over and over again, getting more

bewildered each time. "The Deputies of Alsace and Lorraine have refused

to vote in the German Reichstag!" "But--good heavens!" I almost screamed

to myself, "_what_ were the Alsace and Lorraine Deputies doing in the

German Parliament at all?" I turned the matter over and over in my mind,

and at last, finding that I was getting worked up into a state of

dangerous excitement, I threw the paper from me and walked away. I

thought over the matter again, and so utterly incomprehensible did it

appear to me that I thought I must be mistaken--that my eyes must have

deceived me. Accordingly I ran back and picked the paper up a second

time, and there, sure enough, was the same passage. In vain did I seek

for any sane explanation, and at last I somehow got it into my head that

the appearance of the printed characters must be due to a kind of mental

obliquity, and that I must be rapidly going mad! Even Yamba could not

sympathise with me, because the matter was one which I never could have

made her understand. I tried to put this strange puzzle out of my head,

but again and again the accursed and torturing passage would ring in my

ears until I nearly went crazy. But I presently put the thing firmly

from me, and resolved to think no more about it.

It is not an exaggeration to describe my mountain home in the centre of

the continent as a perfect paradise. The grasses and ferns there grew to

a prodigious height, and there were magnificent forests of white gum and

eucalyptus. Down in the valley I built a spacious house--the largest the

natives had ever seen. It was perhaps twenty feet long, sixteen feet to

eighteen feet wide, and about ten feet high. The interior was decorated

with ferns, war implements, the skins of various animals, and last--but

by no means least--the "sword" of the great sawfish I had killed in the

haunted lagoon. This house contained no fireplace, because all the

cooking was done in the open air. The walls were built of rough logs,

the crevices being filled in with earth taken from ant-hills. I have

just said that _I_ built the house. This is, perhaps, not strictly

correct. It was Yamba and the other women-folk who actually carried out

the work, under my supervision. Here it is necessary to explain that I

did not dare to do much manual labour, because it would have been

considered undignified on my part. I really did not want the house; but,

strangely enough, I felt much more comfortable when it was built and

furnished, because, after all, it was a source of infinite satisfaction

to me to feel that I had a _home_ I could call my own. I had grown very

weary of living like an animal in the bush, and lying down to sleep at

night on the bare ground. It was this same consideration of "home" that

induced me to build a little hut for poor Gibson.

The floor of my house was two or three feet above the ground in order to

escape the ravages of the rats. There was only one storey, of course,

and the whole was divided into two rooms--one as a kind of sitting-room

and the other as a bedroom. The former I fitted out with home-made

tables and chairs (I had become pretty expert from my experience with the

girls); and each day fresh eucalyptus leaves were strewed about, partly

for cleanliness, and partly because the odour kept away the mosquitoes. I

also built another house about two days' tramp up the mountains, and to

this we usually resorted in the very hot weather.

Now here I have a curious confession to make. As the months glided into

years, and I reviewed the whole of my strange life since the days when I

went pearling with Jensen, the thought began gradually to steal into my

mind, "Why not wait until civilisation COMES TO YOU--as it must do in

time? Why weary yourself any more with incessant struggles to get back

to the world--especially when you are so comfortable here?" Gradually,

then, I settled down and was made absolute chief over a tribe of perhaps

five hundred souls. Besides this, my fame spread abroad into the

surrounding country, and at every new moon I held a sort of informal

reception, which was attended by deputations of tribesmen for hundreds of

miles around. My own tribe already possessed a chieftain of their own

but my position was one of even greater influence than his. Moreover, I

was appointed to it without having to undergo the painful ceremonies that

initiation entails. My immunity in this respect was of course owing to

my supposed great powers, and the belief that I was a returned spirit. I

was always present at tribal and war councils, and also had some

authority over other tribes.

I adopted every device I could think of to make my dwelling home-like,

and I even journeyed many miles in a NNE. direction, to procure cuttings

of grape vines I had seen; but I must say that this at any rate was

labour in vain, because I never improved upon the quality of the wild

grapes, which had a sharp, acid flavour, that affected the throat

somewhat unpleasantly until one got used to them.

When I speak of my "mountain home," it must not be supposed that I

remained in one place. As a matter of fact, in accordance with my usual

practice, I took long excursions in different directions extending over

weeks and even months at a time. On these occasions I always took with

me a kind of nut, which, when eaten, endowed one with remarkable powers

of vitality and endurance. Since my return to civilisation I have heard

of the Kola nut, but cannot say whether the substance used by the

Australian aboriginal is the same or not. I remember we generally

roasted ours, and ate it as we tramped along. In the course of my

numerous journeys abroad I blazed or marked a great number of trees; my

usual mark being an oval, in or underneath which I generally carved the

letter "L." I seldom met with hostile natives in this region, but when I

did my mysterious bow and arrows generally sufficed to impress them. By

the way, I never introduced the bow as a weapon among the blacks, and

they, on their part, never tried to imitate me. They are a conservative

race, and are perfectly satisfied with their own time-honoured weapons.

Wild geese and ducks were plentiful in those regions, and there was an

infinite variety of game. From this you will gather that our daily fare

was both ample and luxurious.

And we had pets; I remember I once caught a live cockatoo, and trained

him to help me in my hunting expeditions. I taught him a few English

phrases, such as "Good-morning," and "How are you?"; and he would perch

himself on a tree and attract great numbers of his kind around him by his

incessant chattering. I would then knock over as many as I wanted by

means of my bow and arrows. At this time, indeed, I had quite a

menagerie of animals, including a tame kangaroo. Naturally enough, I had

ample leisure to study the ethnology of my people. I soon made the

discovery that my blacks were intensely spiritualistic; and once a year

they held a festival which, when described, will, I am afraid, tax the

credulity of my readers. The festival I refer to was held "when the sun

was born again,"--_i.e._, soon after the shortest day of the year, which

would be sometime in June. On these occasions the adult warriors from

far and near assembled at a certain spot, and after a course of

festivities, sat down to an extraordinary _seance_ conducted by

women--very old, wizened witches--who apparently possessed occult powers,

and were held in great veneration. These witches are usually maintained

at the expense of the tribe. The office, however, does not necessarily

descend from mother to daughter, it being only women credited with

supernatural powers who can claim the position.

After the great _corroboree_ the people would squat on the ground, the

old men and warriors in front, the women behind, and the children behind

them. The whole congregation was arranged in the form of a crescent, in

the centre of which a large fire would be set burning. Some of the

warriors would then start chanting, and their monotonous sing-song would

presently be taken up by the rest of the gathering, to the accompaniment

of much swaying of heads and beating of hands and thighs. The young

warriors then went out into the open and commenced to dance.

I may as well describe in detail the first of these extraordinary

festivals which I witnessed. The men chanted and danced themselves into

a perfect frenzy, which was still further increased by the appearance of

three or four witches who suddenly rose up before the fire. They were

very old and haggard-looking creatures, with skins like shrivelled

parchment; they had scanty, dishevelled hair, and piercing, beady eyes.

They were not ornamented in any way, and seemed more like skeletons from

a tomb than human beings. After they had gyrated wildly round the fire

for a short time, the chant suddenly ceased, and the witches fell

prostrate upon the ground, calling out as they did so the names of some

departed chiefs. A deathly silence then fell on the assembled gathering,

and all eyes were turned towards the wreaths of smoke that were ascending

into the evening sky. The witches presently renewed their plaintive

cries and exhortations, and at length I was amazed to see strange shadowy

forms shaping themselves in the smoke. At first they were not very

distinct, but gradually they assumed the form of human beings, and then

the blacks readily recognised them as one or other of their long-departed

chiefs--estimable men always and great fighters. The baser sort never

put in an appearance.

Now the first two or three times I saw this weird and fantastic ceremony,

I thought the apparitions were the result of mere trickery.

But when I saw them year after year, I came to the conclusion that they

must be placed in the category of those things which are beyond the ken

of our philosophy. I might say that no one was allowed to approach

sufficiently close to touch the "ghosts,"--if such they can be termed;

and probably even if permission had been granted, the blacks would have

been in too great a state of terror to have availed themselves of it.

Each of these _seances_ lasted twenty minutes or half-an-hour, and were

mainly conducted in silence. While the apparitions were visible, the

witches remained prostrate, and the people looked on quite spellbound.

Gradually the phantoms would melt away again in the smoke, and vanish

from sight, after which the assembly would disperse in silence. By next

morning all the invited blacks would have gone off to their respective

homes. The witches, as I afterwards learnt, lived alone in caves; and

that they possessed wonderful powers of prophecy was evidenced in my own

case, because they told me when I came among them that I would still be

many years with their people, but I would eventually return to my own

kind. The warriors, too, invariably consulted these oracles before

departing on hunting or fighting expeditions, and religiously followed

their advice.

CHAPTER XVI

A teacher of English--Myself as a black-fellow--I rest content--An

unknown terror--Manufacture of gunpowder--A curious find--The fiery

raft--In the lair of snakes--A dangerous enemy--An exciting scene--A

queer sport--Respect for the victor--A vain hope--Sore

disappointment--Yamba in danger--A strange duel--My opponent greets me.

My two children were a source of great delight to me at this

time,--although of course they were half-castes, the colour of their skin

being very little different from that of their mother. The whiteness of

their hands and finger-nails, however, clearly indicated their origin.

They were not christened in the Christian way, neither were they brought

up exactly in the same way as the native children.

I taught them English. I loved them very dearly, and used to make for

them a variety of gold ornaments, such as bangles and armlets. They did

not participate in all the rough games of the black children, yet they

were very popular, having winning manners, and being very quick to learn.

I often told them about my life in other parts of the world; but whenever

I spoke of civilisation, I classed all the nations of the universe

together, and referred to them as "my home," or "my country." I did not

attempt to distinguish between France and Switzerland, England and

America. Curiously enough, the subject that interested them most was the

animal kingdom, and when I told them that I hoped some day to take them

away with me to see my great country and the animals it contained, they

were immensely delighted. Particularly they wanted to see the horse, the

lion, and the elephant. Taking a yam-stick as pointer, I would often

draw roughly in the sand almost every animal in Nature. But even when

these rough designs were made for my admiring audience, I found it

extremely difficult to convey an idea of the part in the economy of

Nature which each creature played. I would tell them, however, that the

horse was used for fighting purposes and for travel; that the cow yielded

food and drink, and that the dogs drew sledges. It was absolutely

necessary to dwell only on the utilitarian side of things. Beasts of

burden would be incomprehensible. Both of my children were very proud of

my position among and influence over the blacks.

And really I looked like a black-fellow myself at this time--not so much

on account of exposure, as because my body was constantly coated with the

charcoal and grease which serves as a protection from the weather and

from insects. My children, you may be interested to learn, never grasped

the fact that my exile was other than quite voluntary on my part.

The children of the blacks continued to interest me as much as ever (I

was always fond of children); and I never grew tired of watching them at

their quaint little games. I think they all loved me as much as I did

them, and I was glad to see that their lives were one long dream of

happiness. They had no school to attend, no work to perform, and no

punishment to suffer. There are no children like the children of the

bush for perfect contentment. They seldom or never quarrelled, and were

all day long playing happily about the camp, practising throwing their

reed spears; climbing the trees after the honey-pods, and indulging in a

thousand and one merry pranks. Often and often I looked at those robust

little rascals, and compared them sadly with my own children, who were

delicate almost from birth, and who caused me so much anxiety and

heartache.

When the combination of circumstances, which is now well known to my

readers, caused me to settle in my mountain home, two or three hundred

miles to the north of Gibson's Desert, I had no idea that I should remain

there for many years.

But strangely enough, as year after year slipped by, the desire to return

to civilisation seemed to leave me, and I grew quite content with my lot.

Gradually I began to feel that if civilisation--represented, say, by a

large caravan--were to come to me, and its leader was willing not merely

to take me away, but my wife and children also, then indeed I would

consent to go; but for no other consideration could I be induced to leave

those who were now so near and dear to me. I may as well mention here

that I had many chances of returning _alone_ to civilisation, but never

availed myself of them. As I spent the greater part of twenty years in

my mountain home, it stands to reason that it is this part of my career

which I consult for curious and remarkable incidents.

One day a great darkness suddenly came over the face of Nature. The

sombre gloom was relieved only by a strange lurid glare, which hung on

the distant horizon far away across that weird land. The air was soon

filled with fine ashes, which descended in such quantities as to cover

all vegetation, and completely hide exposed water-holes and lagoons. Even

at the time I attributed the phenomenon to volcanic disturbance, and I

have since found that it was most likely due to an eruption of the

volcano of Krakatoa. This visitation occasioned very great consternation

among the superstitious blacks, who concluded that the spirits had been

angered by some of their own misdeeds, and were manifesting their wrath

in this unpleasant way. I did not attempt to enlighten them as to its

true cause, but gave them to understand vaguely that I had something to

do with it. I also told them that the great spirit, whose representative

I was, was burning up the land.

Another phenomenon that caused much mystification and terror was an

eclipse of the sun. Never have I seen my blacks in such a state of

excitement and terror as when that intense darkness came suddenly over

the world at midday. They came crowding instinctively to me, and I stood

silent among the cowering creatures, not thinking it politic for a moment

to break the strange and appalling stillness that prevailed on every

hand--and which extended even to the animal world. The trembling blacks

were convinced that night had suddenly descended upon them, but they had

no explanation whatever to offer. They seemed quite unfamiliar with the

phenomenon, and it was apparently not one of those many things which

their forefathers wove superstitious stories around, to hand down to

their children. As the great darkness continued, the natives retired to

rest, without even holding the usual evening chant. I did not attempt to

explain the real reason of the phenomenon, but as I had no particular end

to serve, I did not tell them that it was due to my power.

Never once, you see, did I lose an opportunity of impressing the savages

among whom I dwelt. On several occasions, having all the ingredients at

my disposal, I attempted to make gunpowder, but truth to tell, my

experiments were not attended with very great success. I had charcoal,

saltpetre, and sulphur ready to my hand,--all obtainable from natural

sources close by; but the result of all my efforts (and I tried mixing

the ingredients in every conceivable way) was a very coarse kind of

powder with practically no explosive force, but which would go off with

an absurd "puff."

Now I was very anxious to make an _explosive_ powder, not merely because

it would assist me in impressing the blacks, but also because I proposed

carrying out certain blasting operations in order to obtain minerals and

stones which I thought would be useful. The net result was that although

I could not manufacture any potent explosive, yet I did succeed in

arousing the intense curiosity of the blacks. My powder burnt without

noise, and the natives could never quite make out where the flame came

from.

As there seemed to be a never-ending eagerness on the part of the blacks

to witness the wonders of the white man, I even tried my hand at making

ice--a commodity which is, of course, absolutely unknown in Central

Australia. The idea came to me one day when I found myself in a very

cool cave, in which there was a well of surprisingly cold water.

Accordingly, I filled some opossum skins with the refreshing fluid,

placed them in the coolest part of the cave, and then covered them with

saltpetre, of which there was an abundance. When I tell you that the

experiment was quite fruitless, you will readily understand that I did

not always succeed in my role of wonder-worker. But whenever I was

defeated, it only had the effect of making me set my wits to work to

devise something still more wonderful--something which I was certain

would be an assured success.

Whilst taking, a stroll in the region of my mountain home one day, my

eyes--which were by this time almost as highly trained as those of the

blacks themselves--suddenly fastened upon a thin stream of some greenish

fluid which was apparently oozing out of the rocky ground. Closer

investigation proved that this was not water. I collected a quantity of

it in a kangaroo skin, but this took a considerable time, because the

liquid oozed very slowly.

I would not have taken this trouble were it not that I was pretty certain

_I had discovered a spring of crude petroleum_. Immediately, and by a

kind of instinct, it occurred to me that I might make use of this oil as

yet another means of impressing the blacks with my magical powers. I

told no one of my discovery--not even Yamba. First of all I constructed

a sort of raft from the branches of trees, thoroughly saturating each

branch with the oil. I also placed a shallow skin reservoir of oil on

the upper end of the raft, and concealed it with twigs and leaves. This

done, I launched my interesting craft on the waters of the lagoon, having

so far carried out all my preparations in the strictest secrecy. When

everything was ready I sent out invitations by mail-men, smoke signals,

and message sticks to tribes both far and near, to come and see me _set

fire to the water_! In parentheses, I may remark, that with regard to

smoke-signals, white smoke only is allowed to ascend in wreaths and

curls; while black smoke is sent up in one great volume. As by this time

my fame was pretty well established, the wonder-loving children of Nature

lost no time in responding to the summons; and at length, when the mystic

glow of a Central Australian evening had settled over the scene, a great

gathering established itself on the shores of the lagoon. On such

occasions, however, I always saw to it that my audience were not too

near. But anyhow there was little chance of failure, because the blacks

had long since grown to believe in me blindly and implicitly.

With much ceremony I set fire to the raft, hoisted a little bark sail

upon it, and pushed it off. It lay very low in the water, and as the

amazed onlookers saw it gliding across the placid waters of the lagoon

enveloped in smoke and flames, they did actually believe that I had set

fire to the water itself--particularly when the blazing oil was seen in

lurid patches on the placid surface. They remained watching till the

fire died down, when they retired to their own homes, more convinced than

ever that the white man among them was indeed a great and powerful

spirit.

But, human nature being fundamentally the same all the world over, it was

natural enough--and, indeed, the wonder is how I escaped so long--that

one or other of the tribal medicine-men should get jealous of my power

and seek to overthrow me. Now, the medicine-man belonging to the tribe

in my mountain home presently found himself (or fancied himself) under a

cloud,--the reason, of course, being that my display of wonders far

transcended anything which he himself could do. So my rival commenced an

insidious campaign against me, trying to explain away every wonderful

thing that I did, and assuring the blacks that if I were a spirit at all

it was certainly a spirit of evil. He never once lost an opportunity of

throwing discredit and ridicule upon me and my powers; and at length I

discerned symptoms in the tribe which rendered it imperatively necessary

that I should take immediate and drastic steps to overthrow my enemy,

who, by the way, had commenced trying to duplicate every one of my tricks

or feats. I gave the matter some little thought, and one day, whilst out

on one of my solitary rambles, I came across a curious natural feature of

the landscape, which suggested to me a novel and, I venture to say,

remarkable solution of a very serious situation.

I suddenly found myself on the brink of a peculiar basin-like depression,

which, from its obvious dampness and profusion of bush and cover, I at

once recognised as the ideal abode of innumerable snakes. I marked the

spot in my mind, and returned home, pondering the details of the dramatic

victory I hoped to win. Day by day I returned to this depression and

caught numerous black and carpet snakes. From each of these dangerous

and poisonous reptiles I removed the poison fangs only; and then, after

scoring it with a cross by means of my stiletto, I let it go, knowing

that it would never leave a spot so ideal--from a snake's point of view.

I operated on a great number of the deadly reptiles in this way, but, of

course there remained many who were not so treated; whilst several of my

queer patients died outright under the operation. Needless to say, I

might have met my own death in this extraordinary business had I not been

assisted by my devoted wife. When we had finished our work, there was

absolutely nothing in the appearance of the place to indicate that it was

any different from its state when I first cast my eyes upon it.

Then, all being ready, I chose a specially dramatic moment at a

_corroboree_ to challenge my rival in a war song, this challenge being

substantially as follows: "You tell the people that you are as great as

I--the all-powerful white spirit-man. Well, now, I offer you a formal

challenge to perform the feat which I shall perform on a certain day and

at a certain spot." The day was the very next day, and the spot, the

scene of my strange surgical operations upon the snakes. The effect of

my challenge was magical.

The jealous medicine-man, boldly and openly challenged before the whole

tribe, had no time to make up an evasive reply, and he accepted then and

there. Urgent messages were despatched, by the fun-loving blacks, to all

the tribes, so that we were pretty sure of a large and attentive

audience. It was about midday when the ridge round the depression was

crowded with expectant blacks, every one of whom dearly loved a contest,

or competition, of whatever kind. I lost no time--for in love or war

shilly-shallying is unknown among the blacks--but boldly leaped down into

the hollow armed only with a reed whistle, which I had made for myself

solely with the view of enticing the snakes from their holes. I cast a

triumphant glance at my impassive rival, who, up to this moment, had not

the faintest idea what the proposed ordeal was. I commenced to play as

lively a tune as the limited number of notes in the whistle would allow,

and before I had been playing many minutes the snakes came gliding out,

swinging their heads backwards and forwards and from side to side as

though they were under a spell. Selecting a huge black snake, who bore

unobtrusively my safety mark, I pounced down upon him and presented my

bare arm. After teasing the reptile two or three times I allowed him to

strike his teeth deep into my flesh, and immediately the blood began to

run. I also permitted several other fangless snakes to bite me until my

arms and legs, breast and back, were covered with blood. Personally, I

did not feel much the worse, as the bites were mere punctures, and I knew

the selected reptiles to be quite innocuous. Several "unmarked" snakes,

however, manifested an eager desire to join in the fun, and I had some

difficulty in escaping their deadly attentions. I had to wave them aside

with a stick.

All this time the blacks above me were yelling with excitement, and I am

under the impression that several were lamenting my madness, whilst

others were turning angrily upon my rival, and accusing him of having

brought about my death. At a favourable moment I rushed up the ridge of

the hollow and stood before the horrified medicine-man, who, in response

to my triumphant demand to go and do likewise, returned a feeble and

tremulous negative. Even he, I think, was now sincerely convinced that I

possessed superhuman powers; but it would have been awkward had he come

along when I was laboriously and surreptitiously extracting the poison

fangs from the snakes, and placing my "hall mark" upon them.

His refusal cost him his prestige, and he was forthwith driven from the

tribe as a fraud, whilst my fame rose higher than ever. The blacks now

wished me to take over the office of medicine-man, but I declined to do

so, and nominated instead a youth I had trained for the position. It may

be necessary here to remark that the blacks, under no circumstances, kill

a medicine-man. My defeated rival was a man of very considerable power,

and I knew quite well that if I did not get the best of him he would have

_me_ driven out of the tribe and perhaps speared.

Mention of the snake incident reminds me of a very peculiar and

interesting sport which the blacks indulge in. I refer to fights between

snakes and iguanas. These combats certainly afford very fine sport. The

two creatures are always at mortal enmity with one another, but as a rule

the iguana commences the attack, no matter how much bigger the snake may