Read Round the World in Seven Days Page 13


  CHAPTER XI

  AUSTRALIAN HOSPITALITY

  Darkness was falling when the airmen came in sight of the chain ofsmall islands running from Java eastward almost to the Australiancoast. Knowing that these islands were very hilly, Smith rose to agreat height, using his flashlight every now and then to guard againstmishap. If he had not known the nature of the islands he could almosthave guessed it from the behaviour of the aeroplane, which now tendedto shoot upwards, now to sink downwards, irrespective of any volitionof his own. This proved to Smith that he had come into a region ofvariable currents of wind, such as might be set up by the hollows andridges of mountain tops. The forcing of the machine upwards impliedthat the pressure of the air ahead was increased, owing to a lull inthe wind behind; the sinking implied that the force of a contrary windwas diminished, and that the inertia of the machine prevented it fromreadily accommodating itself to the new conditions. During this partof the voyage Smith had to be constantly alert to warp the planesinstantaneously when he detected the least sign of instability, and hewas very glad when he saw once more the reflection of the stars in thesea beneath him, and knew that he would encounter no more obstaclesbetween Timor, which he had just passed, and Port Darwin.

  His concern now was to pick up the light which, according to theAdmiralty's sailing directions, shone from an iron structure a hundredand twenty feet high, about a mile south of Point Charles, the westernextremity of Port Darwin. Approaching the port from the west, as hewas, he should have no difficulty in seeing the light at a distance ofeighteen or twenty miles, the sky being clear. But as time went onneither he nor Rodier caught sight of the red speck for which theywere looking. Half-past eight came, local time, as nearly as Smithcould calculate it by his watch, which still registered London time;and even allowing for the hours lost he should by now have touchedland. He was beginning to feel anxious when he suddenly found landbelow him--a land of dense forests, apparently low and flat. Thequestion was, whether this was the mainland of Australia or an island,possibly Bathurst Island, north of Port Darwin. It was impossible totell. There was no time to ponder or weigh possibilities; yet if hetook the wrong course he might be hours in discovering his mistake,and this part of Australia being almost wholly uninhabited he mightfail to find any guidance even if he descended. By a rapid guess--itcould not be called reasoning--he concluded that he had probablysteered a too southerly course, and that he would do right if he nowsteered to the north-east. His indecision had lasted only a fewseconds; he brought the aeroplane round until she flew over the lineof breakers washing the shore, and followed the coast at full speed.

  Within a quarter of an hour both the men caught sight at the samemoment of the red glow of the light, which grew in brilliance as theyapproached it, and then diminished as the lamp revolved. Steering nowto the east, in ten minutes they were sailing over the town ofPalmerston, the capital of the Northern Territory. The lightedstreets, crossing at right angles, formed a pattern below them likethe diagram for the game of noughts and crosses. They found a landingplace a little to the north-east of the town, beyond the railway, andhaving safely come to earth, Smith left Rodier to attend to the engineand hastened towards the nearest house, a sort of bungalow of wood andiron. Sounds of singing came from within.

  A Chinaman opened the door to his knock. Smith asked if the master wasat home.

  "Massa inside allo lightee," answered the man. "Me go fetchee,chop-chop."

  He soon returned, followed by a stalwart bearded Australian of aboutfifty years, smoking a big pipe.

  "Well, mate," he said, eyeing Smith curiously by the light of the doorlamp; "what can I do for you?"

  "I must apologize for troubling you on Sunday night," began Smith.

  "No trouble, I assure you. Come in." He led Smith into a little roomnear the door. "We've a few friends in the parlour," he added, "and Iguess you can tell me here what you want."

  "Well, to put it shortly, I should be very much obliged to you ifyou'd direct me to Mr. Mackinnon. He's got some petrol waiting for me,at least I hope he has, and I'm in great need of it."

  "Well, that's real unlucky now. He went to Pine Creek down the lineonly yesterday, and won't be back till to-morrow. Are you LieutenantSmith, may I ask?"

  "Yes, that's my name."

  "Mackinnon got a cable from Java on Friday about the petrol. He toldme about it, and mighty astonished he was. Motor-cars are prettyscarce about here, and he hasn't got a great quantity of petrol. Isuppose it's for a motor-boat you want it? When did you leaveJava?--before the cable, I guess."

  "I haven't come from Java at all. The cable was sent through therefrom London. The fact is, I've come in an aeroplane."

  "What! Over the sea?"

  "Yes, over sea and land. I left Penang early this morning, and must goon at once."

  "Well, if I ain't just about flummuxed! D'you mean to say you've comepretty near two thousand five hundred miles to-day?"

  "Yes; I'll tell you in a word all about it."

  His host, whose name was Martin, listened in mute amazement as Smithbriefly related the occasion of his long journey.

  "Why, man," exclaimed Mr. Martin, when he had concluded his story;"wonders'll never cease. You must be dead beat. I never heard the likeof it. Come into the other room. The boys'll be mad to hear this."

  "Really, I'd rather not. I haven't any time to lose, and Mr. Mackinnonbeing away--"

  "Oh, that don't matter. He didn't expect you so soon, but we'll getwhat you want, though it is Sunday. But a bite and a sup will do youall the good in the world, and won't take you long, and the boys willjust go crazy if they don't see you. Why, it's round the world you'regoing. My sakes! Come along."

  He almost dragged Smith into a large, low room, where several men andwomen, boys and girls, were seated round the wall. They were singinghymns to the accompaniment of a harmonium. A table loaded witheatables was pushed into a corner. The entrance of Mr. Martin,followed by a dirty, unkempt, and oddly dressed stranger, caused anabrupt cessation of the singing. The girl at the harmonium sprang upwith a startled look.

  "What is it, Father?" she asked anxiously.

  "Nothing to be scart about, my girl. Neighbours, this gentleman hascome all the way from London in an aeroplane."

  The announcement was received in dead silence. Smith stood like astatue as he listened to Mr. Martin's hurried explanation, resigninghimself to be the target of all eyes. Everybody crowded about him,silent no longer, but all asking questions at once. Mrs. Martin wentto the table and brought from it a dish of chicken patties, which shepressed upon him.

  "Do'ee eat now," she said, in the broad accent of Devonshire. "I made'em myself, and you must be downright famished."

  "Not quite so bad as that," said Smith, with a smile, "I had a goodbreakfast at Penang, and have nibbled some biscuits and things on theway."

  "Biscuits are poor food for a hungry man. Eat away now, do."

  Other members of the family brought ale, cider, fruit, cakes, enoughfor a dozen men, and for some minutes Smith's attention was dividedbetween eating and drinking and answering the questions which pouredupon him in a never-ending flood. Conscious of the lapse of time, heat last said that he must go and obtain the fuel for his engine. Themen rose in a body, prepared to accompany him.

  "I don't think we had better all go, neighbours," said Mr. Martin."I'll take Mr. Smith to the Resident; we shall have to see him aboutthe petrol, you know."

  "There's one thing your friends can do for me," said Smith. "I wantten or a dozen rifles, and a lot of ammunition. Can you provide themat such short notice?"

  "I should just think we can," said Mr. Martin. "Neighbours, gettogether what Mr. Smith wants, and take 'em out along to theaeroplane. It's just a step or two beyond the railway, from what hesays. Mother, send out some eatables, too, something better thanbiscuits, to Mr. Smith's man, who's looking after it. Now, Mr. Smith,come along. The Residency isn't far off: we're only a small town."

  The two set off, and in a few minutes arr
ived at the Residency, astone building of more pretensions than the wood and iron erections ofwhich the town mostly consisted. The Resident was at home. Once moreSmith had to tell his story, once more to listen to exclamations andreply to questions, grudging every moment that kept him. The Residenthad heard of the wreck of the _Albatross_, in which he had beenparticularly interested, because he had some slight acquaintance withits commander.

  "I heard by wire only yesterday, Mr. Smith, that a gunboat had beensent from Brisbane to the relief of your friends. She started threedays ago, and can't possibly reach the wreck until to-morrow atearliest. But surely she will be there before you?"

  "Not if I can get off soon, and don't meet with an accident on theway. It's nearly two thousand miles from here to Ysabel Island, Ithink?"

  "I can't tell you within a hundred or two, but it's about that. Whendo you think you will get there?"

  "About midday to-morrow, with luck. I shall take on here enough petrolto last the whole way, if I'm not thrown out of my course or meet withmishap; but I suppose I can get a fresh supply at Port Moresby, ifnecessary?"

  "I very much doubt it. And what about getting back?"

  "I'm going on as soon as I've seen that my people are safe--if I'm nottoo late. I've got to rejoin my ship at 9 a.m. on Friday morning, or Irun the risk of being hauled over the coals."

  "Surely not. They will make allowances, seeing what your errand hasbeen."

  "They don't make allowances easily in the Navy, sir. Besides, I've setmy heart on being back in time."

  "You will return this way, then. Ysabel Island is this side of the 180degree line."

  "Well, no, sir. Having started, I mean to get round the world if Ican."

  "You're a sportsman, I see. Well, now, what will your best course be?"

  He opened a map.

  "I've planned it all, sir," said Smith hurriedly. "I go on to Samoa:I'm sure to find petrol there; then Honolulu, San Francisco, St. Paul,and St. John's, all big places, where I shall be able to get all Iwant. Now, sir, I know Sunday night must be an awkward time, but, withyour assistance, I daresay I can get the petrol from Mr. Mackinnon'sstore."

  "There is a little difficulty which we shall have to get over. We've avery strict regulation against entering at night any godowncontaining explosives, owing to the risk of fire. Mr. Mackinnon'sgodown will be locked up; his Chinaman will have the key; and asResident I can't openly countenance a breach of the rules. We have hada great deal of trouble to enforce them, and any relaxation would havea very bad effect on the Chinamen: they wouldn't understand it."

  "Don't you worry about that, sir," said Mr. Martin. "Leave it to me.There'll be a fine to pay to-morrow," he added, with a chuckle; "andyou can make it pretty stiff as a warning to the Chinese; it'll bepaid on the nail, I assure you."

  "Very well, Mr. Martin. I shall know nothing about it officially untilyou come before me to-morrow, and I'll read you a severe lecture inaddition to fining you. You can come to me for a subscriptionafterwards. Good-bye, Mr. Smith: good luck. I sincerely hope you'llfind your friends safe and sound. Give my kind regards to LieutenantUnderhill."

  Smith left the Residency with Mr. Martin, who led him to the Chinesequarter of the town, a dark assemblage of small huts, pig-sties, andpoultry runs.

  "I don't know where Mackinnon's boy lives," said Mr. Martin. "We shallhave to hunt him up."

  All the huts were apparently in darkness, and Smith, as he walkedrapidly beside his guide, thought that he preferred the smell ofpetrol smoke to the mingled odours that assailed his nose. At lengththey discovered a light amid the gloom, and hastening towards it,discovered that it proceeded from an oil-lamp within one of the huts,the door of which was open. Here they saw a group of Chinamensquatting on the floor, engaged in playing a game with small figurescarved in bone.

  "Hi, boys," called Mr. Martin; "can tell where Ching-Fu keeps?"

  "My tellee massa," cried one of the younger men, rising. "My go longthat side, show wai-lo."

  "Come on, then: chop-chop."

  "Allo lightee, massa: my savvy."

  He led them through what appeared to Smith an intricate maze of narrowalleys, and presently pushed open the door of a hut, and called thename of Ching-Fu, entering without ceremony. The Englishmen heardvoices raised as in altercation, and after some minutes the guidereappeared, followed by a burly compatriot, rubbing his eyes.

  "He catchee sleep, say what for come fetchee this time."

  "Now, Ching-Fu," said Mr. Martin, "this gentleman wants seventygallons of petrol, at once. Mr. Mackinnon got a cable about ityesterday. Come and get the cans, and have them taken up to my houseat once."

  "No can do, massa," replied the man in a shrill tone of voice, thatseemed singularly unbefitting to his massive frame. "Topside mancatchee my inside godown this time, ch'hoy! he makee big bobbely."

  "Never mind about that. I'll pay the fine."

  "No can do, no can do so-fashion. Massa pay squeeze; all-same, mycatchee plenty bobbely, makee my too muchee sick."

  "I'll take care you don't suffer. Come along: there's no time tolose."

  "This time Sunday, look-see, massa. No workee Sunday, no fear; thatjoss-pidgin day."

  "I can't waste time talking." Smith whispered in his ear. "Yes; Mr.Smith will give you ten shillings for yourself if you hurry up."

  "Ch'hoy!" cried the other man. "Massa numpa one genelum; my go longtoo, Ching-Fu. No can catchee ten bob evely day."

  Ching-Fu suffered himself to be persuaded. He beat up three or four ofhis neighbours, and proceeded with them to the godown, the Englishmenfollowing to ensure that no time was lost. In half-an-hour thenecessary supplies of petrol and lubricating oil were being wheeled upon trucks towards Mr. Martin's house. On the way Smith noticed anumber of reddish lights at irregular intervals, moving in the samedirection, and there were more people in the streets than when he hadcome down, all hurrying one way.

  "By Jingo!" said Mr. Martin, "the news has spread, and it looksuncommonly like a torchlight procession. Hullo, Jenkins, what's thematter?"

  "That you, Martin?" replied the man addressed. "Everybody's talkingabout an aeroplane that's come down somewhere near Mackenzie's shed,and I'm off to see if it's true. Haven't you heard about it?"

  "I did hear something of the sort. I'll be up there, too, by-and-by."

  Smith was a little annoyed at the possibility of being delayed by acrowd of spectators, but there was evidently no help for it. Hereturned to Mr. Martin's house, being assured by his host that he needhave no anxiety about the safe delivery of the petrol.

  Meanwhile Rodier, on Smith's departure, had, as usual, set to work toclean the engine. He was tired and sleepy, and he would have been morethan human if he had not thought that his employer had rather the bestof the arrangement. But any private soreness he might have felt didnot affect the speed or the thoroughness of his work. He first of allexamined the wires: there was nothing wrong with them. Then heunscrewed the plugs and laid them on top of the engine, pulled theengine over, and finding that there was a poor spark, concluded thatit was rather sooty. After cleaning the parts thoroughly with petrol,he again started the engine. The sparking being still weak, heexamined the magneto: it was choked with grease. The next thing was toclean the brush with petrol and try the plugs again. The spark was nowstrong, and after giving everything a final polish, he replaced theplugs, satisfied that the engine was in good working order.

  Switching off the searchlight for economy's sake, and leaving only thesmall light that illuminated the compass, he sat down, opened a tin ofsardines, and began to eat them with biscuits. A fastidious personmight have objected to the mingling of flavours, olive oil and petrolnot combining at all well; but Rodier was too old a hand to be dainty.He was in the act of munching a mouthful when his head dropped forwardon his breast, and he fell into a sound sleep.

  He was wakened by a voice in his ear. Jumping up with a start, hebeheld a crowd of people watching him, men in Sunday coats, men inshirt sleeves, ladies in ligh
t dresses, boys in knickerbockers andNorfolks, girls in pinafores, Chinamen in coats of many colours, manyof the throng holding torches and lanterns.

  "Ah! mille diables!" he cried. "Keep back! This is not a pennytheatre."

  "Nor yet a cook-shop," said one of the visitors, with a laugh; "thoughyou might think so."

  And then Rodier saw that the men and boys foremost in the groupcarried plates, dishes, bowls, bottles, jugs. One had a dish ofchicken patties, another a plate of bananas, a third a bowl ofDevonshire junket, a fourth a loaf of bread; others had cheese,apples, bottled beer, Australian wine, doughnuts, pork sausages,sponge cake, ham sandwiches; in short, all the constituents of a hightea except tea itself.

  "Thought you might be hungry after your ride," said one. "Have asandwich?"

  "Have a banana?" said another. "You won't get 'em like this inLondon."

  "Dry work, ain't it?" said a third, pulling a cork. "That'll buck youup."

  "Please take one of my doughnuts," piped a small boy, creeping aroundthe right leg of a sturdy planter.

  "Ma foi! This take the cake," cried Rodier, laughing heartily. "Thankyou, thank you, thank you! But truly I shall be very--verydiscomfortable if I eat all this riches. Ah; this is good, this ishospitality. My friends, I thank you, I love you; vive l'Australie!"

  Bubbling with excitement, he shook hands with this one and that; andboth hands being engaged at once in this hearty mode of salutation, hewould have been able to enjoy little of the good fare provided hadnot one of the group begun to fend off the enthusiastic visitors.

  "That's enough," he said; "give him breathing space. Eat away, man;the junket won't keep; everything else will, and you can take with youwhat is left."

  Thus, when Smith arrived on the scene, he found his man surrounded byan alfresco confectioner's shop, eating, laughing, talking, andbreaking forth into eloquent praise of Australian hospitality.

  "Ah, mister," he cried, as Smith joined him; "this is a country! Weare pigs in clover. There is here enough for a regiment of Zouaves."

  Here a diversion was caused by the arrival of Mr. Martin's friendswith rifles and ammunition enough to equip a company of grenadiers.Smith accepted a dozen rifles and two or three hundred rounds ofammunition; and these had just been placed in the car when theChinamen arrived with the petrol. He implored the torchbearers tostand back while the inflammable fluid was put on board. This was doneamid a buzz of excitement, everybody talking at once.

  "Speech! speech!" cried some one in the crowd, and Smith, thinking theshortest way out of his embarrassment was to comply, stood up in thecar and thanked his good friends in Palmerston for the warmth oftheir reception, and their kindness in supplying his wants.

  "You will excuse me from saying more, I know," he added. "I havenearly two thousand miles still to go; my father is in great danger;and we are already several hours behind time. I can't shake hands withyou all, but I shall never forget your kindness. Now, if you willclear the course so that I can get a run-off, I will say 'good-bye,'and hope that some day I may come back and not be in such a hurry."

  His simple words were cheered to the echo. Then Mr. Martin and threeor four more pressed the throng back. The good people cheered again asthe machine ran forward and sailed above them, and Smith, as he lookeddown upon the sea of faces lit up by the flaring torches until itbecame a blurred spot of light, felt cheered and encouraged, and sethis face hopefully towards the starlit east.