AN AUSTRALIAN SEARCH PARTY II.
BY
CHARLES H. EDEN
Between one and two o’clock,
the report of a little swivel gun, with which the
taffrail of the ‘Daylight’ was armed, echoed
over the bay, and announced to the party that all
was in readiness. In a very few minutes we were
all mustered on the beach, looking, I must confess,
remarkably like brigands, in our slouching and high-crowned
Californian hats, coatless, and with shirt-sleeves
either tucked up or cut off above the elbow, which,
with the carbine that each man carried in his hand,
and the revolvers, knives, etc., stuck into the
waist-belts, made our ‘tout ensemble’
such, that I am convinced no honest citizen, with a
plethoric purse, who saw us thus for the first time,
would have felt quite at his ease in our company.
With a ringing cheer from the townspeople assembled
on the beach, under the shade of the big trees, we
shoved off, and, manned by willing hands, the cable
rattled in, in a fashion that must have astonished
the old windlass, accustomed to the leisurely proceedings
that usually obtained on board the ‘Daylight’.
The sail was soon clapped on, the little vessel heeled
over to the sea-breeze now setting in pretty stiffly,
and ten minutes after quitting the shore we were down
in the hold, the captain and his lady occupying the
cabin. Making our preparations for the night,
which consisted, I may mention, mainly of spreading
out our blankets, whilst the ‘Daylight’,
with the Government whale-boat towing astern, was
beating up against the adverse wind for the north end
of Hinchinbrook, where we purposed anchoring for the
night, and commencing our search on the following
morning.
What with a contrary wind and tide,
it was not until past ten o’clock that we glided
into the little bay, and, shortening sail as noiselessly
as possible, let down the anchor by hand to avoid the
rattling of the chain through the hawsehole, which,
in the stillness of the night, would have certainly
reached the keen ears of the blacks, were there any
in the neighbourhood, and caused them to shift their
quarters. The little inlet or creek in which
we now found ourselves, was entirely new to us, and
we were indebted to Lizzie for the discovery of such
a quiet retreat. With straining eyes, our novel
pilotess stood at the heel of the bowsprit, extending
an arm in the direction she wished the vessel to go,
and, her task completed, she wrapped her blanket round
her active little body, scarcely shrouded in the striped
twill shirt that constituted her sole attire, and,
sinking down in the waterways under the lee of the
gunwale, was soon sound asleep a sensible
proceeding, which, as soon as everything was secured,
we hastened to imitate.
We had arranged our plans for the
morrow in the following manner. Before dawn,
the whale-boat was to land all the party, including
Lizzie, with the exception of the pilot and his two
men. He was to return to the ‘Daylight’
after having put us ashore, and, getting under weigh
as soon as the wind was strong enough, was to take
her round to a small inlet on the island, some distance
down Rockingham Channel, and there await either our
arrival or further instructions. Our expedition
was to join him there in two or three days at the farthest,
perhaps sooner; but, whatever happened, he was to
remain with the cutter at the rendezvous, and on no
account, nor under any inducement, was he to quit
until he either saw or heard from us, however long
the time might be. During the daytime the whale-boat
was to be kept hauled up alongside the cutter, with
the carbines belonging to the crew loaded and triced
up under the thwarts, ready for immediate service,
and a bright look-out was to be kept on the channel,
in both directions. If the natives attempted
the smallest communication with the mainland, the
whale-boat was to give chase immediately, and either
intercept and capture the canoes, or compel them to
return to Hinchinbrook Island.
Such was the rough plan we sketched
out for the guidance of the ‘Daylight’.
With regard to ourselves, we could make no standing
rule, for the country was comparatively unknown to
us, and we must, Micawber-like, trust to something
turning up and, in the pursuit of this happy event,
must follow whithersoever fortune and Miss Lizzie
thought fit to lead us.
At least an hour before dawn we were
astir, and swallowing the scalding tea that the man
on watch had prepared: this done, and a snack
of damper and cold meat eaten, we got quietly into
the boat and were pulled ashore. Until daylight,
we were unable to make our way, for paths there were
none, and the ground was dangerous from the quantity
of stones, etc., so we were compelled to sit down
quietly and smoke our pipes until we could see to
pick our way. In the tropics there is but little
dawn; the sun springs up without heralding his approach
by a lengthened gradation from darkness to night,
as obtains in more temperate climes, and but little
patience was requisite to enable us to commence our
search. As many of our readers are doubtless
aware that in Australia no journey is ever undertaken
on foot; that the real bushman would think himself
sunk to the depths of abject poverty, if he had not
at least ‘one’ horse of his own; and that
a man will wander about for a couple of hours looking
for a horse to carry him half a mile, when he might
have gone to his destination and back half a dozen
times, in the interval wasted in searching for his
steed. Knowing this, they will doubtless wonder
why we did not bring our mounts with us, and perform
the journey comfortably, in place of the tedious method
we now adopted. It must not for a moment be imagined
that the great assistance horses would have afforded
us had not been duly weighted and considered, and
our reasons for leaving them behind were as follows: From
the little we knew of Hinchinbrook, and from the description
Lizzie gave of the country, they would have been rather
in our way than otherwise. The whole island
is a mass of lofty volcanic mountains; and the passes
through the gorges so strewn with huge boulders, debris,
and shale, that we should have been compelled to lead
our nags, and thus they would have only proved an encumbrance.
This was one reason, and apparently a very good one,
but I doubt if it would have had much effect upon
our party, who could hardly contemplate any undertaking
without the agency of horseflesh, had not a more cogent
argument been forthcoming, to which they were compelled
to give in their adherence.
“The ‘Daylight’
is quite big enough to carry them all, for such a short
distance, if they’re properly stowed,”
said Jack Clark, the roughrider, who was a zealous
advocate for the conveyance of his pet quadrupeds.
“Of course she can,” said
another; “and we shall get the work over as
quickly again.”
“How will you land them?”
I ventured to suggest; “for the cutter can never
go near enough to the shore to walk them out.”
“She can’t get within
a quarter of a mile,” said the pilot; for at
this time none of us knew of the little inlet, into
which Lizzie so deftly guided us.
“Pitch them overboard, of course,”
cried Jack; “they’ll pretty soon make
for the land; and I’ll send my mare Gossamer
first; she’ll give them a lead, I’ll bet.
Cunning old devil!”
The impetuosity of Jack was fast gaining converts, when Cato pulled Dunmore
quietly by the sleeve, and said
“Marmy, baal you take ’em
yarroman like ’it Hinchinbrook; my word, plenty
of alligator sit down along of water. He been
parter that fellow like ’it damper.”
“By Jove! Cato’s
right,” said Dunmore; “we forget about
the alligators and sharks. I won’t let
the boys take their horses, and shall not take my
own. I lost one horse from an alligator last year,
on the Pioneer River, and Government wanted to make
me pay for it, and I’ll take care I don’t
risk losing ‘three’. Bring Gossamer,
if you like, Clark, but, take my word for it, you’ll
never see her again.”
This unexpected contingency; the prophesied fate of Gossamer, which was as
the apple of Jacks eye; and the point-blank and sensible refusal of Dunmore to
hazard the Government horses, completely turned the tables. After a little
inward grumbling, Jack consoled himself, saying
“Well, at all events, I can ‘think’
of riding!”
And thus it came to pass that we landed
on Hinchinbrook, with no means of locomotion beyond
those with which nature had endowed us.
And now, headed by Lizzie, and walking
in single file and in silence, we struck out for the
interior of the island. The path if
path it could be called, for it consisted only of
a dim track beaten by the naked feet of the blacks wound
in and out among the long grass, which, as we approached
the foot of the mountain range, became exchanged for
boulders and loose shale, which rendered walking most
tedious, and played the very mischief with our boots.
Here even this track seemed, to our eyes, to die
out; but Lizzie led the way confidently, and evidently
with a thorough knowledge of what she was about.
We had now been walking for more than three hours,
and had apparently only got half way up a kind of
gorge in the mountains, which seemed to become gradually
narrower and narrower, and from all appearances afforded
every prospect of terminating in a ‘cul-de-sac’.
A watercourse must at some period have run down this
ravine, for the boulders were rounded; but it was
now quite dry. As the sides of the mountains
drew nearer, our path led along this watercourse,
and the walking became dreadfully fatiguing.
The boulders were sometimes so close as to render
walking between impossible, and then it became necessary
to clamber over them, which, loaded as we were, was
very painful. If, on the other hand, we attempted
to journey on the ‘top’ of the boulders,
they were not only of unequal heights, but sometimes
so wide apart, that a good spring was requisite to
get from one to the other. Lizzie was the only
one of the party who appeared thoroughly at home;
her light figure bounded from rock to rock with the
greatest ease and rapidity. Even Cato and Ferdinand,
barefooted as they were, seemed to be a long way from
enjoying themselves, and for us wretched Europeans,
with our thick boots, that obtained scarcely any foothold,
we slipped about from the rounded shoulders of the
rocks, in a way that was anything but pleasant.
Thus we scrambled along for another
hour, at the expiration of which we could only see
a blank wall of mountain before us, up which it would
have been both impossible and useless to climb.
Wondering where the deuce Lizzie was leading us,
we blundered along until we arrived at the base of
the perpendicular cliff, and saw that by some convulsion
of nature the ravine now branched off at a right angle
to the left, and gradually widened out into a beautiful
and gently declining stretch of country, perfectly
shut in by hills, and into which a pretty little bay
extended, with several canoes on its placid surface.
We were distant from the beach about three miles,
and could see clearly the smoke of several fires;
while with binocular glasses we could make out the
figures of the blacks fishing, and of the piccaninnies
and gins romping in the sand.
Lizzie was a sight to see, as she pointed triumphantly to the unconscious
savages, and, trembling with eagerness, tapped the butt of Dunmores carbine, as
she whispered
“Those fellow sit down there,
brother belonging to me, plenty you shoot ’em,
Marmy.”
“You take us close up along
of those fellow, Lizzie?” said Dunmore.
“Your Marmy, plenty close, you
been shoot ’em all mine think,” replied
our amiable little guide, who, enjoining the strictest
silence, at once put herself in motion, bidding us,
by a sign, to follow her.
For more than an hour and a half we
crept cautiously along, sometimes crawling on all
fours where the country was open, and frequently stopping,
while Lizzie went noiselessly forward and reconnoitred,
before beckoning to us to advance again. The
direction in which she led us lay at the base of the
hills, which on one side bounded the little plain
and its bay, and though we could form but a crude idea
of where we were going, owing to the thickness of
the undergrowth, yet it was sufficiently evident that
the young lady was one of nature’s tacticians,
and meditated a flank blow at her unfortunate relatives.
Proceeding, we came at last within a stone’s
throw of the beach, and could hear the mimic waves
rolling on the sand, at no great distance, on our
right hand. Lizzie now pointed to a small belt
of vine shrub that lay in front of us, and indicated
that immediately outside it were the ‘gunyahs’,
or huts; and, “plenty you shoot,” she added
showing her white teeth as she grinned with glee at
the thoughts of the cheerful surprise she had prepared
for her old companions. We were not thoroughly
on the ‘qui vive’, for we thought
this unknown bay would be the very spot in which the
blacks were likely to seclude any prisoners from the
‘Eva’, and accordingly willingly followed
the lithe figure of our little guide, as she wound
her way through the tangled brake, like a black snake,
and with a facility that we in vain attempted to imitate.
The troopers who had reduced their clothing
to a minimum, for their sole vestment consisted of
a forage-cap and cartridge-belt wound along
as noiselessly as Lizzie; but we poor whites with
our flannel shirts and other complicated paraphernalia
that custom would not permit us to dispense with in
the matter-of-fact way they were laid aside by our
sable allies were getting into continual
trouble; now hitched up helplessly by a lawyer vine,
whose sharp prickles, like inverted fish-hooks, rent
the skin; now crawling unsuspiciously against a tree-ants’
nest, an indiscretion that the fierce little insects
visited with immediate and most painful punishment;
or else, becoming aware, by unmistakable symptoms,
that we were trying to force a passage through a stinging
tree-shrub. Whenever we thus came to grief,
Lizzie would stop, turn round, and wave her arms about
like a semaphore, indicative of impatience, contempt
mingled with pity and warning.
Luckily for us, the belt of scrub
was not of great extent; Lizzie had already reached
its edge, and was peering cautiously through, and we
were struggling along, each after his own fashion,
when bang went a carbine, the bullet of which we distinctly
heard whistle over our heads, and turning round we
got a glimpse of Jack, the roughrider, hung up in
a vine, one of whose tendrils had fired off his weapon;
and had just time to hear him exclaim, “If I’d
only been mounted, this wouldn’t have happened,”
before we broke cover, and all further concealment
being now unnecessary, rushed recklessly on to the
encampment.
But we were too late to capture any
of the men, for I need hardly tell the reader that
never had we intended to make use of the curt arguments
that Lizzie had relied upon for cutting off the abrupt
exit of her quondam friends; it would be quite time
enough to commence a system of reprisals when it was
ascertained that the blacks had actually been guilty
of any atrocity. At present it was mere surmise
on our part, and putting altogether on one side the
natural reluctance to shed blood, an aggressive policy
would have been an unwise one, engendering, as it
infallibly would, a bad feeling against any other luckless
mariners whom the winds and the waves might in time
to come cast upon the inhospitable shores of Hinchinbrook
Island.
The sudden report of Jack’s
carbine, which occasioned a momentary halt, and the
few seconds required to burst through the scrub, afforded
sufficient time for the male portion of the encampment
to make their escape at speed, in different directions,
some taking to the water, where they were picked up
by the fishermen in the canoes; others diving into
the nearest cover, and being lost to sight without
hope of recovery. The women and children followed
the tactics usual on such occasions, and flung themselves
into a heap, similar in colour and contour to that
described in a previous chapter, when we searched the
Herbert River. The same thing took place again
exactly; we sat down in a circle round them, waiting
for the deafening “yabbering” to die away,
which “yabbering” burst forth in all its
pristine discord, whenever one of the party made the
slightest movement. Time and patience, however,
had the desired effect, restoring tone to their not
over sensitive systems, and at the expiration of half
an hour, we could distinguish sharp, bead-like black
eyes peering at us out of the mass, which had now
sunk into silence, but burst out again louder than
ever, when Lizzie made her appearance from one of
the gunyahs perhaps the paternal roof,
who knows? where she had retired, swelling with indignation, and as sulky as a
whole team of mules. Finding that no one took any notice of her, and half
an hours reflection having, I suppose, convinced her, that if she wanted to
make a display before her relations, now was the time, her ladyship came slowly
up to the circle, and commenced an attack on poor Dunmore, as she knew him best.
To transcribe her words would be impossible, for she put in a native sentence
whenever she found herself at a loss for an English one, but the burden of her
plaint was this:
“Plenty d d fooly
fellow, white fellow” a string of
Hinchinbrook vernacular “Baal you
been shoot ’em like ’it dingo” more
Hinchinbrook, but evidently, from the accompanying
gestures, indicative of intense disgust “Baal
mine take any more along of black fellow camp” half
sobs “Baal mine care suppose you fellow
all go like ’it
And she summarily consigned us to
the bottomless pit, as the only place at all suited
for such stupid idiots who could refrain from shooting
blacks when so grand an opportunity presented itself.
Her eyes flashed fire as she delivered herself of
her woes, and at the concluding sentence she stamped
her little foot, and flinging a short waddy she held,
with remarkable dexterity and no mean force, into the
midst of the sable mass, she turned round to depart
with the dignity of a tragedy queen, when Dunmore
jumped up, caught her, and holding her wrist, walked
off a little way from us.
“You like ’it one fine
fellow red shirt, Lizzie? Mine give you one
with ‘plenty long tail’. Baal any
other gin along of camp have shirt like ’it
you; and when piccaninny sit down” (for there
was a prospect of her presenting Ferdinand with a
little pledge of affection), “mine give that
fellow two budgeree flour-bag shirts, suppose only
you good fellow girl Lizzie.”
Evidently, Dunmore knew the way to
the young lady’s heart we nicknamed
him “Faust” afterwards for at
the mention of the red shirt, with the lengthy tails,
her eyes lost their fierceness, and the allusion to
the piccaninny completed his victory, and changing
at once from one extreme to the other, as only a black
or a child can, Miss Lizzie took her seat in the circle,
lighted her pipe, commenced nodding to, and chatting
most affably with, her relatives, and looking so kind,
that it seemed impossible to believe that an intense
longing for bloodshed and cruelty had so shortly before
lurked in the breast of the pretty, smiling little
savage who was now beside us.
During the task of pacifying Lizzie,
the “heap” had again sunk into comparative
silence, and only a confused murmur was audible from
its depths. Allowing no time to be lost, Dunmore
said to Lizzie who was puffing out huge mouthfuls of smoke, greatly to the
astonishment of the other gins, who looked as if they expected to see her
suddenly blaze up
“Lizzie, you ask, suppose they
been see any white fellow on island? White fellow
in plenty big canoe. That fellow canoe been come
like ’it shore. You tell them, ’Baal
white fellow hurt you, suppose you been show, where
brother belonging to him sit down.’ You
tell them that, Lizzie.”
Lizzie proceeded with the greatest
gravity, and evidently with an overwhelming sense
of self-importance, to put the required questions,
whilst we anxiously awaited her replies.
“Well, what they been say?”
exclaimed Dunmore at last, when there was a momentary
break in the conversation.
I should imagine that the vernacular
of the Hinchinbrook Islanders was not pre-eminently
adapted for the noble intricacies of diplomatic intrigue.
In the first place it contains but few words, and
none representing any number higher than five, so
that even the courtly nobleman now presiding over
Foreign Affairs, would find the smooth flow of his
amenities subjected to rude shocks; and as for expressing
any large number either in words or figures say,
for instance, the Alabama indemnity of three millions to do so, would tax to the
utmost the genius of the late Chancellor of the Exchequer. Lizzie, in her
first flash of pride, as representing a plenipotentiary armed with extraordinary
powers, had commenced negotiations with the dignity and slowness of speech
adapted to so exalted a personage. But the shrill chorus which emanated
from the audience was decidedly antagonistic to grave deliberation, and the
anxious curiosity of the woman superseding the self imposed rle of the
diplomatist, our envoy lost the pompous tone she had first adopted, and a volley
of queries and replies was exchanged so rapidly, and with such appalling
shrillness, that we onlookers ran a great risk of being either deafened, or
driven out of our senses. At the first slackening of the wordy warfare,
Dunmore put his questions, and then Lizzie said
“Baal there been any white fellow along of here.”
“You been sure, Lizzie, ask suppose they been
see any big fellow canoe.”
Again the same hideous noise now took
place, but I will not tire my readers with too minute
a description of a scene with which they must now
be pretty conversant, suffice it to say, that what
with the real or pretended stupidity of the gins,
and the imperfect English of our interpreter, we were
more puzzled at the conclusion of the debate than
we had been at its commencement.
“Had they seen a vessel?”
“Oh yes, big fellow, with wings like ’it
bird.”
“How long ago?”
“Plenty long time ago.”
“One moon ago?”
“Yes, one moon ago.”
“Sure it was one moon?”
“No, thought it must be one
day ago, and plenty smoke sit down along of big canoe.”
Altogether the skein was too tangled
for us to attempt to unravel it. They had seen
vessels evidently, both sailing ships and steamers,
but whether it was yesterday, or ten years back, there
were no means of ascertaining; but to make certain
that we were not being deceived, we instituted a strict
overhaul of the gunyahs, in hopes of finding something
that might give us a clue to the fate of the missing
men. When we broke up our circle for this purpose,
the component parts of the “heap” assumed
an upright posture, and it was remarkable to witness
the awe with which they regarded Lizzie. At first
they seemed afraid to approach her, and stood some
five yards distant, watching her whilst she puffed
out the smoke from her relighted pipe, and posed herself
in an attitude of becoming superiority, for she saw
clearly enough that the happy moment for making an
impression had arrived. Gradually they drew closer
and closer, and at last, three of the eldest gins going
down on all fours, crept slowly up until close in front
of her, when they stopped, and buried their withered
old faces in the sand at her feet. After enjoying
their humiliation for a few seconds, she condescended
to speak to them, and very shortly they were all chattering
away on the most amicable terms.
Meanwhile the gunyahs or native huts,
and the camp, had been thoroughly searched, but without
bringing to light anything European, except a few
bottles, and a pint pot which had been accidentally
left behind by one of the party on the occasion of
Lizzie’s abduction. The gunyahs were better
constructed than usual, and consisted of saplings bent
in an arch and covered with tea-tree bark, a great
improvement on all the native dwellings we had hitherto
seen, which were generally little better than a rude
screen against the wind. But our time was precious,
for we carried but little provision; and we could not
afford to loiter about, even in so pleasant a spot
as this little bay; so, after dispatching a hasty
dinner, we started off afresh, to the immense relief
of the gins, and got out of the valley by another pass,
which Lizzie showed us. I must not forget to
mention one ludicrous circumstance, which convulsed
us with laughter. The gins showed such curiosity
about Lizzie’s pipe, that she handed it round
and made them each take a puff. Their expressions,
when the pungent smoke caused them either to sneeze,
cough, or choke, were most laughable; and I have no
doubt that it is still a matter of wonder to them,
and a fruitful source of debate over the camp-fires,
what pleasure the white man can find in filling his
mouth with smoke, apparently with no better object
than to puff it out again as soon as possible.
Our course now lay due south, and the travelling
was much the same as in the morning, that is to say,
as bad and as fatiguing as it well could be.
Lizzie said she could take us to another bay, where
there were sure to be more blacks; and so we trudged
patiently along under her guidance, with the sun blazing
down so fiercely that the carbine-barrels became quite
heated. Our new path was very similar to the
last one, seeming to come to an abrupt termination,
but really shooting off at an angle, and leading down
to a bay, which opened out to our view about five o’clock,
and did not present nearly so pretty an appearance
as the one we had just left, for the ground seemed
swampy, and the beach was a nasty muddy mangrove-flat.
We were also disappointed in not finding any blacks;
but as there is nothing so bad that it has not some
redeeming quality, so this dreary-looking swamp had
its advantages, for the trees were loaded with Torres
Straits’ pigeons, and sea-crabs were abundant.
This would enable us to lay in an extra day’s
provisions, and to extend our search, if necessary,
before visiting the ‘Daylight’, from which
vessel we were now separated by more than twenty miles
of unknown country, inclusive of a mountainous range.
We determined not to shoot any pigeons that night,
for they would only keep the less time; and having
lit our fire by the side of a small creek, we had supper,
and were soon sleeping the sleep of the weary, the
watch having instructions to call us at an early hour
for the purpose of replenishing our larder before
the birds took their departure for the mainland.
A pint pot of tea swallowed what
a blessing it is that this glorious beverage is so
portable that abundance can always be carried three
of us sallied forth with our carbines, from which
we had extracted the bullets and substituted shot,
each taking a different direction, the troopers guaranteeing
a crab breakfast, and Lizzie cutting and peeling wooden
skewers to roast the game on; for in this climate nothing
will keep beyond a few hours, unless partially cooked.
I struck away towards the left with the intention
of making the mangroves as soon as possible,
where I knew I should find plenty of birds. The
walk of the day previous had made me a little stiff;
but I felt lightly clad, without the heavy blanket,
which I had left in camp; and, by way of getting rid
of the stiffness, I started off at a run and soon reached
my destination, where I sat down until there was sufficient
daylight to enable me to see the game. As I
rested on the root of a tree, perfectly motionless,
I saw something large moving among the mangroves;
but the dawn was as yet so uncertain that I could not
distinguish whether it was a human being or not.
“If that is a black fellow,”
I thought, “he’s worth all the pigeons
put together, and I’ll wait quietly to try and
capture him,” for the object I saw was moving
in the direction my companions had taken; and if it
were a native, he would be certain to return by the
road he had come, when he heard the firing.
Sitting still, waiting for anything or anybody, when
waited on yourself by hungry mosquitoes, may be agreeable
enough to Mr. Fenimore Cooper’s typical Red Indian,
but I can safely say that it is anything but pleasant
work to a thin-skinned Englishman. Daylight had
now fully come, and I was beginning to hesitate as
to whether I had not better bag some of the birds
that were fluttering over my head, and get out of
the swamp as fast as I could, when I heard the distant
report of a gun, and said to myself, “Well, I’ll
give the nondescript five minutes more, and if it
doesn’t turn up by then, I’ll blaze away
at the pigeons.” Half the allotted time
had barely elapsed, when another report broke the
stillness of the morning, and immediately afterwards
I heard a rustling among the mangrove-leaves, and a
slight crackling, as though some heavy weight were
passing over the arched roots. I stayed quiet,
almost breathless, as the noise came nearer and nearer,
and, turning my head, I peered through the bush behind
which I had taken up my quarters, and saw a fine-looking
black gliding cautiously from one to another of the
interlaced mangroves. He was evidently
quite unsuspicious of any danger in front, and kept
all his faculties concentrated on the direction in
which he had heard the carbine-shots, which now followed
each other rapidly, as the two gunners fired at the
birds as fast as they could load.
“Now,” thought I, “if
I can only cut you off so as to keep you between me
and them, I am pretty certain to capture you, my friend;”
and, judging my time, I rushed from behind my bush,
and was within ten yards of him before he saw me.
In his amazement he dropped the long fish-spear with
which he was armed, stood one moment undetermined,
and then made his way, with the greatest agility,
from tree to tree, not back towards my friends, as
I had fondly hoped, but straight for the bay.
I followed as fast as I could, but he went two paces
to my one. I confess I felt sorely tempted to
handicap him with a charge of small shot, lodged somewhere
about the calves of those lean legs that were carrying
him over the roots with such provoking rapidity, and
have often wondered since why I refrained; but I did,
and continued to scuttle after him, now slipping down
and barking my shins, now nearly losing my carbine,
and often compelled to sprawl on all fours. He
was now forty or fifty yards ahead of me, and I was
nearly giving up the useless chase, when an unforeseen
accident turned the tables in my favour, and caused
me to push on with redoubled vigour. As we approached
the bay, the whole of the roots and lower portions
of the mangroves became thickly studded with
oysters, whose shells, sharp as razors, cut the bare
feet of the fugitive; while, on the contrary, they
proved of assistance to me by preventing my thick boots
from slipping off the treacherous roots. I now
gained ground as fast as I had previously lost it,
and made certain of capturing my prisoner on arriving
at the end of the mangroves, through which I could
already catch glimpses of the sea. Animated
by the thoughts of bringing a captive into camp, from
whom we should probably gain valuable information,
I jumped from tree to tree in hot pursuit, and when
the bay opened out clearly, I was only a short distance
in the rear.
“Now I’ve got you,”
I muttered, as the black fellow jumped on to the last
stool of roots, and as I was eagerly following, holding
my breath for a tussle; when, to my intense mortification,
he plunged headlong into the sea, leaving me disconsolate
and out of wind, to get back as best I could.
I waited until his head reappeared, which was not until
he had put a good thirty yards between us, and, pointing
my carbine, shouted to him to return or I would fire.
It was quite useless. He went quietly out seaward,
and at the last, when I turned unwillingly to retrace
my steps, I saw his black head bobbing about on the
calm surface. When, after a series of involuntary
feats on the mangrove rope, I again stood on ‘terra
firma’, all the pigeons had left; and I
was compelled to make my way back to camp, empty-handed,
muddy, cut about the shins, and with my boots almost
in tatters. “So much,” thought I,
“for trying to catch a black fellow single-handed.”
My companions had shot plenty of pigeons,
after roasting which we started for the interior of
the island, and without meeting with anything beyond
the ordinary routine of bad bush and mountain travelling;
certainly encountering nothing that would justify me
in inflicting a prolix description upon the reader we
arrived late on the following evening at the rendezvous,
found the ‘Daylight’ safely at anchor,
and thus completed one portion of our search, without
having obtained the faintest clue to an elucidation
of the mystery of the ‘Eva’.
The pilot reported that, to the best
of his belief, no blacks had succeeded in making their
escape to the mainland; several canoes had attempted
to cross, but they had been seen and intercepted, though
none of their occupants had been captured. One
canoe he had taken possession of, and now showed us,
which was, I think, the most primitive piece of naval
architecture any of us had seen. Canoe it could
hardly be called, for it was only a sheet of bark curled
up by the action of fire; the bow and stern formed
by folding the extremities, and passing a tree-nail,
or, rather, a large skewer, through the plaits.
When placed in the water, the portion amidships,
which represented the gunwale, was not four inches
above the surface, and so frail that no European could
have got into it without a capsize, though the black
fellows are so naturally endued with the laws of equilibrium
that they can stand upright in these tiny craft, and
even spear and haul on board large fish.
We slept in the hold of the ‘Daylight’
that night, after making all arrangements for a start
at early dawn. We trusted that the Cleveland
Bay party would have performed their portion of the
task, and thoroughly overhauled the southern part
of the island, and fully expected to fall in with
them on the following day.
Our road lay through most abominable
country stony, precipitous, and in places
covered with dense vegetation. The traces of
blacks were abundant, and we could travel but a short
distance without falling in with some of the numerous
camping-places. In many of these, the fires
were still smouldering, but the inhabitants had cleared
out, most probably warned by those whom the whale-boat
had intercepted. Each camp was subjected to
a rigid scrutiny, but without revealing anything European,
except fragments of bottles, to which we attached no
importance, for they were probably flung over-board
by some passing vessel, and carried ashore by the
tide. These are highly valued by the blacks,
who do not use them for carrying water, but break them,
and scrape down their spears with the fragments.
To make a spear must be a work of
many weeks’ duration, when the imperfect implements
at the natives’ disposal are taken into consideration.
In the first place, his missile must be perfectly
straight, and of the hardest wood; and no bough, however
large, would fulfil these requirements, so it must
be cut out bodily from the stem of an iron-bark tree,
and the nearer the heart he can manage to get, the
better will be his weapon. His sole tool with
which to attack a giant iron-bark is a miserable tomahawk,
or hatchet, made of stone, but little superior to
the rude Celtic flint axe-heads, that may be seen in
any antiquarian’s collection. These are
of a very hard stone, frequently of a greenish hue,
and resembling jade; and, having been rubbed smooth,
are fitted with a handle on the same principle that
a blacksmith in England twists a hazel wand round
a cold chisel. The head, and the portion of
the handle which embraces it, then receive a plentiful
coating of bees’-wax, and the weapon is ready
for use. Fancy having to chop out a solid piece
of wood, nine feet long, and of considerable depth,
from a standing tree, with an instrument such as I
have described, which can never, by any possibility
be brought to take an edge! I have frequently
examined the trees from which spears have been thus
excised, and the smallness of the chips testified to
the length of the tedious operation; indeed, it would
be more correct to say the segment had been bruised
out than excised. Having so far achieved his
task, there is still a great deal before the black
can boast of a complete spear, for the bar is several
inches in diameter, and has to be fitted down to less
than one inch. Of the use of wedges he knows
nothing, so is compelled to work away with the tomahawk,
and to call in the aid of fire; and when he has managed
to reduce the spear to something approaching its proper
size, he gets a lot of oyster-shells, and with them
completes the scraping, and puts on the finishing
touches. It may easily be imagined what a boon
glass must be to the savage, enabling him to do the
latter part of the operation in a tithe of the time.
I am afraid that it is often the habit
with us Australians to either destroy or carry away
as curiosities, the weapons and other little things
that the blacks manufacture, utterly regardless of
the loss we thus inflict upon them; for without his
weapons the wretched native is not only defenceless
against neighbouring tribes, who would not scruple
to attack him when unarmed, but he is also literally
deprived of the means of subsistence. Without
his spear, he is unable to transfix the kangaroos
and wallabies on which he so much depends for
his daily food, and, robbed of his boomerangs and
nullah-nullahs, the wild duck can pass him scatheless,
and the cockatoo can scream defiance from the lofty
trees. I know that this practice of returning
laden with native spoil is more frequently the result
of thoughtlessness or curiosity than anything else.
The implements appear so trumpery, that the European
thinks they can be of little use to anybody, but the
bad blood thus engendered between the aborigines and
the settlers is greater than would be easily credited.
Another reason, I would venture to submit, in opposition
to this custom is, that in the case of the blacks doing
any mischief, no method of punishing them can possibly
be devised equal in severity to the destruction of
their weapons. A tribe is rendered more helpless
and more innocuous by this than by shooting down half
the males, and I am sure that if they once found that
only in case of mischief was this punishment resorted
to, we should hear infinitely less of cattle-spearing
and shepherd-murdering than at present obtains.
I mention this, not from any good-will towards the
blacks, who have been causes of much sorrow to me
and mine, but because I am sure that a discontinuance
of this idle habit would tend to lessen the existing
causes of friction between the two races.
In one of the camps we found a blanket not,
O reader, made of the finest wool, deftly woven at
the looms of Witney, but a blanket of Dame Nature’s
own contrivance, stripped by the aboriginal from the
bark of the Australian tea-tree (’Melaleuca
squarrosa’), no small shrub, but a noble fellow
standing from 150 to 200 feet high, and generally found
in the neighbourhood of fresh water, or in the beds
of creeks. The bark of this tree is of great
thickness, and composed of a series of layers, each
of which can be easily separated from its neighbours,
and, in fact, much resembling a new book, just issued
from the hot-press of the binder. From a portion
of this the inner skins, I imagine the
blacks manage to make a flexible, though not over
warm, covering for the winter nights, or for the newly-born
piccaninnies. The whole of the process I am
not acquainted with, but from all I could gather from
Lizzie, the bark is stripped in a large sheet at the
end of the rainy season, the inner cuticle of several
leaves carefully separated from the remainder, and
placed in fresh water, weighted with heavy stones to
retain it in its position. After the lapse of
a certain time, known only to the initiated, it is
taken out, hung up to dry, and at a peculiar stage,
before all the moisture has evaporated, it is laid
on a flat rock, and cautiously beaten with smooth
round stones, which operation opens out the web sufficiently
to make it quite pliant, after which it is allowed
to dry thoroughly, and is then ready for use.
These vegetable blankets are very strong, and must
be a great protection to the naked savages, but, despite
the ease with which they can be obtained, and the
small time and labour occupied in their preparation,
but few of the gins have them, and none of the men.
We also found several fish-hooks of
a most peculiar shape, and made out of a curious material.
In shape they were like a circular key-ring, with
a segment of exactly one-third cut out. One end
was ground sharp, and to the other was attached the
line, cleverly spun from the tea-tree bark.
Now, of all shapes to drive a Limerick hook-maker to
despair, none, one would think, could have been invented
better than this, for the odds are certainly ten to
one against its penetrating any portion of a fish,
even though he should have gorged it. The material
of which these quaint hooks are made is tortoise or
turtle shell, for both tortoises and turtles abound
on this coast, the former frequenting the fresh-water
creeks and lagoons, and the latter the sea. Whether
they were cut out of the solid, or whether a strip
was soaked, bent, and then dried in the sun until
it became firmly set in the required shape, I never
could ascertain, but most probably the former plan
was adopted.
The whole island seemed to teem with
game, and had we been able to fire, we should speedily
have made a good bag, but this we dared not do, so
I made a mental resolve to return at some future time
and make amends for this enforced restraint.
At nearly every step, we put up some bird or beast
strange to European eyes.
I have no doubt it is known to most
of my readers that Australia is destitute of ‘Ferae’
proper, and that elephants, lions, tigers, etc.,
are unknown. They will also know that the kangaroos
are marsupial animals; that is to say, the females
have a peculiar pouch for their young, which are born
in a far less advanced state than the young of other
animals. But perhaps it is not so generally known
that, with two or three exceptions, such as the dingo
or native dog, the platypus, and several species of
bats, the ‘whole’ of the animals on the
continent are marsupial. The brains of this
species are very small, and they sadly lack intelligence,
in which respect they exhibit a wonderful affinity
to the aboriginals who live by their capture.
Of kangaroos there are more than thirty
different kinds, but the English are now so well acquainted
with this curious animal that it needs no description.
There are two things about it, however, that I may
with propriety here point out viz., the
use of the pouch, and the various ways in which the
kangaroo is serviceable to the settler. The
average size of the ordinary female kangaroo is about
six feet, counting from the nose to the tip of the
tail; and, marvellous though it may appear, the young
kangaroo, at its birth, is but little over an inch
in length, having a vague kind of shape, certainly,
but otherwise soft, semi-transparent, and completely
helpless. Now the pouch comes into use.
The little creature is conveyed there by the mother’s
lips, and immediately attaches itself to one of the
nipples, which are retractile, and capable of being
drawn out to a considerable length. Thus constantly
attached to its parent, it waxes bigger daily.
From two to eight months of age it still continues
an inhabitant of its curious cradle, but now often
protrudes its little head to take an observation of
the world at large, and to nibble the grass amongst
which its mother is feeding. Sometimes it has
a little run by itself, but seeks the maternal bosom
at the slightest intimation of danger. It quits
the pouch for good when it can crop the herbage freely;
but even now it will often poke its head into its
early home and get a little refreshment on the sly,
even though a new-comer may have succeeded to its
place.