CHAPTER XII
The girls in sun-bonnets--I advise the blacks--Fatal excitement--Lastmoments--The catastrophe--I cannot realise it--A fearful contrast--"Onlya withered flower"--Bruno's grief--Steering by the ant-hills--Avoidingthe forests--Myriads of rats--The flowing of the tide--Rats and thenative children--Clouds of locusts--Fish from the clouds.
The weeks gradually grew into months, and still we were apparently nonearer civilisation than ever. Again and again we made expeditions tosee whether it were possible for the girls to reach Port Darwin overland;but, unfortunately, I had painted for them in such vivid colours thetortures 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 forthunprovided into the unknown. Sometimes a fit of depression so acutewould come over them, that they would shut themselves up in their roomand not show themselves for a whole day.
We had a very plentiful supply of food, but one thing the girls missedvery much was milk,--which of course, was an unheard-of luxury in theseregions. We had a fairly good substitute, however, in a certain creamyand bitter-tasting juice which we obtained from a palm-tree. This"milk," when we got used to it, we found excellent when used with thegreen corn. The corn-patch was carefully fenced in from kangaroos, andotherwise taken care of; and I may here remark that I made forks andplates of wood for my fair companions, and also built them a properelevated bed, with fragrant eucalyptus leaves and grass for bedding. Forthe cold nights there was a covering of skin rugs, with an overall quiltmade from the wild flax.
The girls made themselves sun-bonnets out of palm-leaves; while theirmost fashionable costume was composed of the skins of birds andmarsupials, cunningly stitched together by Yamba. During the cold wintermonths of July and August we camped at a more sheltered spot, a little tothe north, where there was a range of mountains, whose principal peak wasshaped like a sugar-loaf.
I frequently accompanied the warriors on their fighting expeditions, butdid not use my stilts, mainly because we never again met so powerful anenemy as we had battled with on that memorable occasion. My people wereoften victorious, but once or twice we got beaten by reason of the otherside having drawn first blood. My natives took their reverses with avery good grace, and were never very depressed or inclined to view mewith less favour because of their want of success. We were always thebest of friends, and I even ventured gradually to wean them fromcannibalism.
I knew they ate human flesh, not because they felt hungry, but becausethey hoped to acquire the additional valour of the warrior they wereeating. I therefore diplomatically pointed out to them that, in thefirst place, all kinds of dreadful diseases which the dead man might havehad would certainly be communicated to them, and in this I wasprovidentially borne out by a strange epidemic. The second considerationI mentioned was that by making anklets, bracelets, and other ornamentsout of the dead braves' hair, they could acquire for themselves in a muchmore efficacious manner the valour and other estimable qualities of thedeparted warrior.
Whilst I was on this subject I also advised them strongly andimpressively never wantonly to attack white men, but rather to makefriendly advances towards them. I often wonder now whether explorers whofollow in my track will notice the absence of cannibalism and thefriendly overtures of the natives.
Two half painful, half merry years, passed by. We had seen several shipspassing out at sea, and on more than one occasion Yamba and I, taught byprevious lessons, had jumped into our canoe and pulled for many miles inthe direction of the sail, leaving the girls watching us eagerly from theshore. But it was always useless, and we were compelled to returnwithout having accomplished our purpose; we merely inflicted additionalpain on ourselves.
I now come to what is possibly the most painful episode of my career, andone which I find it impossible to discuss, or write about, without veryreal pain. Even at this distance of time I cannot recall that tragic daywithout bitter tears coming into my eyes, and being afflicted with agnawing remorse which can never completely die in my heart. Do not, Ibeg of you, in considering my actions, ask me why I did not do this, orthat, or the other. In terrible crises I believe we become almostmechanical, and are not responsible for what we do. I have often thoughtthat, apart from our own volition, each set of nerves and fibres in ourbeing has a will of its own.
Well, one gloriously fine day we sighted a ship going very slowly acrossthe gulf, several miles away. Would to God we had never seen her! Wewere thrown, as usual, into a perfect frenzy of wild excitement, and thegirls dashed here and there like people possessed. Of course, Idetermined to intercept the vessel if possible, and the girls at onceexpressed their intention of coming with me. I attempted earnestly todissuade them from this, but they wept pitifully and implored me to letthem come. They were filled with an ungovernable longing to get away--thesame longing, perhaps, that animates a caged bird who, although well fedand kindly treated, soars away without a moment's hesitation when anopportunity occurs. Quite against my better judgment, I let them come.Every second was precious and every argument futile. While Yamba wasgetting ready the canoe I rushed from one group of natives to the other,coaxing, promising, imploring. I pointed out to them that they couldpropel their catamarans faster than I could paddle my canoe; and Ipromised them that if I reached the ship I would send them presents fromthe white man's land of tomahawks and knives; gaily coloured cloths andgorgeous jewellery. But they were only too ready to help me without anyof these inducements; and in an incredibly short time at least twentycatamarans, each containing one or two men, put off from the shore in mywake and made directly towards the ship, whilst I struck off at a tangentso as to head her off. I now see that without doubt we must havepresented a very formidable appearance to the people on the vessel as wepaddled over the sunlit seas, racing one another, yelling, andgesticulating like madmen. Of course, the people on board quitenaturally thought they were being attacked by a savage flotilla. But inthe excitement of the moment I never gave this a thought. Had I onlyleft my faithful natives behind all might have been well. Yamba and Ikept the canoe well ahead, and we reached the neighbourhood of the shipfirst.
As we approached, the excitement of the girls was painful to witness.They could scarcely contain themselves for joy; and as I forciblyprevented them from standing up in the frail canoe, they contentedthemselves with frantically waving their hands and screaming themselveshoarse.
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 todo, considering the spread of canvas. She was not a Malay vessel, beingdecidedly of European rig. She was only a small craft, of perhaps ten orfifteen tons, with one mast carrying a main-sail and stay-sail, inaddition 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 yardsaway, and I suddenly leapt to my feet and coo-eed several times. Stillno one showed himself, and not a soul was visible on board. My ownjoyful excitement speedily turned to heart-sickness, alarm, and eventerror. By this time the flotilla of catamarans was close behind me; andjust as I was about to sit down and take to my paddle again, so as toadvance still closer to the vessel, the loud report of a gun was heard;and then--well, what followed next is exceedingly difficult for me todescribe accurately. Whether I was wounded by the shot, or whether thegirls suddenly stood up, causing me to lose my balance and fall on theside of the canoe and cut my thigh, I do not know.
At any rate, I crashed heavily overboard in spite of Yamba's desperateattempt to save me. The next moment I had forgotten all about the ship,and was only conscious of Yamba swimming close by my side, andoccasionally gripping my long hair when she thought I was going under. Werighted the canoe and climbed in as quickly as we could. I think I wasdazed and incapable of any coherent thought. As I collapsed in thebottom of the canoe, I suddenly realised that Yamba and I were alone; andsitting up, I gasped, "The girls, the girls! Where are they? Oh, whereare
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 forthe 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 onesfrom me than that they should be dragged through the terrible years thatfollowed.
But for a long time I utterly refused to believe that my darlings werelost--they were truly as sisters to me; and Yamba and I and the nativesdived for them time after time, searching the sea in every direction. Butat length, seeing that I was exhausted, Yamba forcibly detained me, andtold me that I myself would inevitably drown if I went into the wateragain. The wound in my thigh (I am uncertain to this day whether it wasthe result of the gun-shot or mere collision with the rough gunwale ofthe canoe) was bleeding freely; and as it was also pointed out to me thatthere was a very strong and swift current at this spot, I allowed myselfto be taken away without any further opposition.
I simply _could_ not realise my bereavement. It seemed too terrible andstunning to think, that when God had provided me with these two charmingcompanions, who were all in all to me every moment of my existence, as aconsolation for the horrors I had gone through--it seemed impossible, Isay, that they should be snatched from me just at the very moment whensalvation seemed within our reach. Every detail of the incident passedbefore my mental vision, but I could not grasp it--I could not seem tothink it real. I can never explain it. These poor girls were more to methan loving sisters. They turned the black night of my desolateexistence into sunshine, and they were perpetually devising some sweetlittle surprise--some little thing which would please me and addadditional brightness to our daily lives. This dreadful thing happenedmany years ago, but to this day, and to the day of my death, I feel sureI shall suffer agonies of grief and remorse (I blame myself for nothaving forbidden them to go in the canoe) for this terrible catastrophe.
After we returned to the land, I haunted the sea-shore for hours, hopingto see the bodies rise to the surface; but I watched in vain. When atlength the full magnitude of the disaster dawned upon me, despair--theutter abandonment of despair--filled my soul for the first time. Neveragain would my sweet companions cheer my solitary moments. Never againwould I see their loved forms, or hear their low, musical voices. Neveragain would we play together like children on the sand. Never againwould we build aerial castles about the bright and happy future that wasin store for us, looking back from the bourne of civilisation on ourfantastic adventures. Never again should we compare our lot with that ofRobinson Crusoe or the Swiss Family Robinson.
My bright dream had passed away, and with a sudden revulsion of feeling Irealised that the people around me were repulsive cannibals, among whom Iwas apparently doomed to pass the remainder of my hideous days--a fateinfinitely more terrible than that of joining my darlings beneath therestless waves, that beat for ever on that lonely shore. I was a longtime 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 pityand sympathy in my terrible affliction. What made my sorrow and remorsethe more poignant, was the reflection that if I had retained one atom ofmy self-possession I would never have dreamed of approaching the littleEuropean vessel at the head of a whole flotilla of catamarans, filledwith yelling and gesticulating savages. As to the people on board thevessel, 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 samething under the circumstances.
Clearly the only reasonable plan of action was to have gone alone; butthen, at critical times, even the wisest among us is apt to lose hishead. God knows I paid dearly enough for my lack of judgment on thismelancholy occasion.
My wound was not at all serious, and, thanks to Yamba's care, it quicklyhealed, 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 intoour hut, where every little bunch of withered flowers, every garment ofskin, and every implement, proclaimed aloud the stunning loss I hadsustained. No, I went back direct to the camp of the natives, andremained among them until the moment came for my departure. I think itwas in the soft, still nights that I felt it most. I wept till I was asweak as a baby. Oh the torments of remorse I endured--the fierceresentment against an all-wise Providence! "Alone! alone! alone!" Iwould shriek in an agony of wretchedness; "Gone! gone! gone! Oh, comeback to me, come back to me, I cannot live here now."
And I soon realised that it was impossible for me to remain there anylonger. 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 ofsympathy for the loss the great white chief had sustained. I think Yambawent among them, and pointed out the magnitude of the disaster; otherwisethey would have failed to grasp it. What was the loss of a woman or twoto 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 wildernessand there hide my grief. In making an attempt to reach civilisation, Ithought this time of going due south, so that perhaps I might ultimatelyreach Sydney, or Melbourne, or Adelaide. I argued thus casually tomyself, little dreaming of the vast distances--mountain ranges andwaterless deserts--that separated me from these great cities. For all Iknew, I might have come upon them in a few weeks! All I was certain ofwas that they lay somewhere to the south. Time was no object to me, andI might as well be walking in the direction of civilisation as remainingin idle misery in my bay home, brooding over the disaster that hadclouded my life and made it infinitely more intolerable than it wasbefore the girls came.
Yamba instantly agreed to accompany me, and a few weeks after the loss ofthe girls we started out once more on our wanderings, accompanied by myever 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 Ionly taken Bruno on that fatal day, he would not have let my dear onesdrown!
As I have said, I remained only a few weeks in my bay home, and thendeparted. The blacks, too, left the spot, for they never stay where theshadow of death lies, fearing the unpleasant attentions of the spirits ofthe deceased. The parting between me and my people was a most affectingone, the women fairly howling in lamentations, which could be heard agreat distance away. They had shown such genuine sympathy with me in mymisfortune that our friendship had very materially increased; but inspite of this good feeling, I knew I could never be happy among themagain.
So we started off into the unknown, with no more provision or equipmentthan if we were going for a stroll of a mile or so. Yamba carried heryam-stick and basket, and I had my usual weapons--tomahawk and stilettoin my belt, and bow and arrows in my hand. I never dreamed when westarted that to strike due south would take us into the unexplored heartof the continent. Day after day, however, we walked steadily on ourcourse, steering in a very curious manner. We were guided by the ant-hills, which are always built facing the east, whilst the top inclinestowards the north; and we knew that the scratches made on trees by theopossums were invariably on the north side.
We often steered by the habits of insects, wasps' nests, and othercurious auguries, fixing our position at night by the stars and in thedaytime 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 theCambridge Gulf region we struck a fine elevated land, excellently wellwatered; and later on we followed the Victoria River in a south-easterlydirection through part of the Northern Territories of South Australia. Weat length struck a peculiar country covered with coarse grass ten feet ortwelve feet high--not unlike the sugar-cane which I afterwards saw, butmuch more dense.
It was, of course, impossible for us to pursue our course due south,owing to the forests and ranges which we encountere
d; we had, as a matterof fact, to follow native and kangaroo tracks wherever they took us--east,west, and even north occasionally, generally to water-holes. Theprogress of the natives is simply from one water supply to another. Butas far as possible we pursued our way south. You will understand thatthis kind of travelling was very different from that which we experiencedon 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 hundredfeet, and nowhere did I see any scrub or spinifex.
After leaving the Victoria we came upon a more elevated plateau coveredwith rather fine but short grass; the trees were scarcer here, but finerand bigger. There was plenty of water in the native wells and in thehollows, 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; theselatter provided us with an unwonted dish, to say nothing of theirdelicious eggs.
Another reason for our coming round out of our course when we came toforests was because but little food was found in them. Kangaroos andother animals were seldom or never found there: they abounded usually inthe more scrubby country. Our progress was very leisurely, and, as wemet tribe after tribe, we ingratiated ourselves with them and camped attheir wells. Occasionally we came upon curious rivers and lagoons thatran into the earth and disappeared in the most mysterious way, only toreappear 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 callingout excitedly, "Up a tree,--quick! Up a tree!" And so saying shescampered up the nearest tree herself. Now, by this time I had become soaccustomed to acting upon her advice unquestioningly, that withoutwaiting to hear any more I made a dash for the nearest likely tree andclimbed into it as fast as I could. Had she called out to me, "Leap intothe river," I should have done so without asking a question. When I wassafely in the branches, however, I called out to her (her tree was only afew yards away), "What is the matter?" She did not reply, but pointed toa vast stretch of undulating country over which we had just come; it wasfairly well wooded. It lingers in my mind as a region in which one wasable to see a fairly long way in every direction--a very unusual featurein the land of "Never Never"!
I looked, but at first could see nothing. Presently, however, it seemedto me that the whole country in the far distance was covered with a blackmantle, _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 tounderstand that _we should presently be surrounded by myriads of rats_,stretching away in every direction like a living sea. The phenomenon wasevidently known to Yamba, and she went on to explain that these creatureswere migrating from the lowlands to the mountains, knowing by instinctthat the season of the great floods was at hand. That weird andextraordinary sight will live in my memory for ever. I question whethera spectacle so fantastic and awe-inspiring was ever dealt with, even inthe pages of quasi-scientific fiction. It was impossible for me toobserve in what order the rats were advancing, on account of the greatstretch of country which they covered. Soon, however, their shrillsqueals were distinctly heard, and a few minutes later the edge of thatstrange tide struck our tree and swept past us with a force impossible torealise. No living thing was spared. Snakes, lizards--ay, even thebiggest kangaroos--succumbed after an ineffectual struggle. The ratsactually ate those of their fellows who seemed to hesitate or stumble.The curious thing was that the great army never seemed to stand still. Itappeared to me that each rat simply took a bite at whatever prey came hisway, and then passed on with the rest.
I am unable to say how long the rats were in passing--it might have beenan hour. Yamba told me that there would have been no help for us had webeen overtaken on foot by these migratory rodents. It is my opinion thatno creature in Nature, from the elephant downwards, could have lived inthat sea of rats. I could not see the ground between them, so closelywere they packed. The only creatures that escaped them were birds. Theincessant squealing and the patter of their little feet made anextraordinary sound, comparable only to the sighing of the wind or thebeat of a great rain-storm. I ought to mention, though, that I wasunable accurately to determine the sound made by the advancing rats owingto my partial deafness, which you will remember was caused by the greatwave which dashed me on to the deck of the _Veielland_, just beforelanding on the sand-spit in the Sea of Timor. I often found thisdeafness a very serious drawback, especially when hunting. I wassometimes at a loss to hear the "coo-ee" or call of my natives. Fortunatemen! _they_ did not even understand what deafness meant. Lunacy also wasunknown among them, and such a thing as suicide no native can possiblygrasp or understand. In all my wanderings I only met one idiot ordemented person. He had been struck by a falling tree, and wasworshipped as a demi-god!
When the rats had passed by, we watched them enter a large creek and swimacross, after which they disappeared in the direction of some rangeswhich were not very far away. They never seemed to break their ranks;even when swimming, one beheld the same level brownish mass on thesurface of the water. Yamba told me that this migration of rats was notat all uncommon, but that the creatures rarely moved about in such vastarmies as the one that had just passed.
I also learned that isolated parties of migrating rats were responsiblefor the horrible deaths of many native children, who had, perhaps, beenleft 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 southwardjourney a particularly pleasant and convenient article of diet turned up(or fell down) in the form of the _maru_, as it is called, which collectson the leaves of trees during the night. Both in its appearance andmanner of coming, this curious substance may be likened to the manna thatfell in the wilderness for the benefit of the Israelites. This _maru_ isa whitish substance, not unlike raw cotton in appearance. The nativesmake bread of it; it is rather tasteless, but is very nutritious, andonly obtained at certain times--for example, it never falls at the timeof full moon, and is peculiar to certain districts.
During this great southward journey many strange things happened, and wesaw a host of curious sights. I only wish I could trust my memory toplace these in their proper chronological order.
We had several visitations of locusts; and on one occasion, some monthsafter leaving home, they settled upon the country around us so thickly asactually to make a living bridge across a large creek. On severaloccasions I have had to dig through a living crust of these insects, sixor eight inches thick, in order to reach water at a water-hole. Theselocusts are of a yellowish-brown colour (many are grey), and they rangein length from two to four inches.
As they rise in the air they make a strange cracking, snapping sound; andthey were often present in such myriads as actually to hide the face ofthe 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-readyfire-stick, which no native woman is ever without; and while she lookedafter the supply of roots and opossum meat, I generally provided thesnakes, emus, and kangaroos. Our shelter at night consisted merely of asmall _gunyah_ made of boughs, and we left the fire burning in front ofthis when we turned in.
When we had been fully three months out, a very extraordinary thinghappened, which to many people would be incredible were it not recognisedas a well-known Australian phenomenon. We had reached a very dry andopen grass country, where there was not a tree to be seen for miles andmiles. Suddenly, as Yamba and I were squatting on the ground enjoying ameal, we saw a strange black cloud looming on the horizon, and hailed itsadvent with the very greatest delight, inasmuch as it presaged rain--whichis always so vitally important a visitation in the "Never Never." Wewaited in anticipation until the cloud was right over our heads. Thenthe deluge commenced, and to my unbounded amazement I found that with therain
_live fish as big as whitebait were falling from the clouds_! Whenthis wonderful rain-storm had passed, large pools of water were left onthe 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, andthen, as the blazing sun beat down upon the fish-covered country, wefound the region growing quite intolerable on account of the awfulstench.
Talking of storms, I have seen it stated that the Australian natives arein a state of high glee whenever they hear thunder. This is perfectlytrue, but I have never seen any explanation of this joy. It is simpleenough. The natives know that thunder presages rain, which is always ablessing of great price in that thirsty country.
I think this was the first time I had actually _seen_ it rain fish. ButI had often been surprised, to find water-holes, and even the pools ingrassy plains, literally alive with fish a few days after a storm. Andthey 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 welcomefish diet. Very frequently in our wanderings we were provided withanother 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 totwenty feet, and have bare trunks surmounted by what looks at a distancelike a big bunch of drooping bulrushes. The worms were of a whitishcolour, and were always found in the interior of a well-matured ordecaying stem; so that all we had to do was to push the tree over withour 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 exchanginggreetings. With some tribes we would perhaps travel a little way south,and only part with them when they were about to strike northwards; and astheir course was simply from water-hole to water-hole, as I have toldyou, it was always pretty erratic.