Produced by Amy E. Zelmer and Sue Asscher. HTML version by Al Haines.
AUSTRALIAN SEARCH PARTY
BY
CHARLES HENRY EDEN
FROM
ILLUSTRATED TRAVELS:
A RECORD OF
DISCOVERY, GEOGRAPHY, AND ADVENTURE.
EDITED BY
H.W. BATES,
ASSISTANT-SECRETARY OF THE ROYAL GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY.
AN AUSTRALIAN SEARCH PARTY--I.
BY CHARLES H. EDEN.
IN a former narrative, published in the preceding volume of the
ILLUSTRATED TRAVELS, I gave an account of a terrible cyclone which
visited the north-eastern coast of Queensland in the autumn of 1866,
nearly destroying the small settlements of Cardwell and Townsville, and
doing an infinity of damage by uprooting heavy timber, blocking up the
bush roads, etc. Amongst other calamities attendant on this visitation
was the loss of a small coasting schooner, named the 'Eva', bound from
Cleveland to Rockingham Bay, with cargo and passengers. Only those who
have visited Australia can picture to themselves the full horror of a
captivity amongst the degraded blacks with whom this unexplored
district abounds; and a report of white men having been seen amongst
the wild tribes in the neighbourhood of the Herbert River induced the
inhabitants of Cardwell to institute a search party to rescue the crew
of the unhappy schooner, should they still be alive; or to gain some
certain clue to their fate, should they have perished.
In my former narrative I described our exploration of the Herbert
River, lying at the south end of Rockingham Channel, with its fruitless
issue; and I now take up the thread of my story from that point,
thinking it can hardly fail to be of interest to the reader, not only
as regards the wild nature of the country traversed, but also as
showing the anxiety manifested by the inhabitants of these remote
districts to clear up the fate of their unhappy brethren. I may also
here mention, for the information of such of my readers as may not have
read the preceding portions of the narrative, that Cardwell is the name
of a small township situated on the shores of Rockingham Bay; and that
Townsville is a settlement some hundred miles further south, known also
as Cleveland Bay.
HOW WE EXPLORED GOULD AND GARDEN ISLANDS.
We were all much pleased at a piece of intelligence brought up by the
'Daylight', to the effect that a party of volunteers had been assembled
at Cleveland Bay, and intended coming up in a small steamer to the
south end of Hinchinbrook, to assist in the search for the missing
crew. As it would be of the utmost importance that both parties should
co-operate, I sent my boat down to the mouth of the channel, with a
note to the leader of the expedition announcing our intention of
landing on the north end of the island and working towards the centre;
and requesting them to scour their end, and then push northward, when
we should most probably meet in the middle of the island. The boat had
orders to wait at the bar until the arrival of the steamer, and then to
return with all speed. In the meanwhile, the 'Daylight' was
discharging her cargo, and we were making preparations for what we well
knew would prove a most arduous undertaking; the sequel will show that
we did not overrate the difficulties before us.
At the risk of being tedious, I must explain to the reader some of the
peculiarities of Hinchinbrook Island. Its length is a little short of
forty miles, and its shape a rude triangle, the apex of which is at the
south, and the north side forming the southern portion of Rockingham
Bay. Now this north side is by no means straight, but is curved out
into two or three bays of considerable extent, and in one of them stand
two islands named Gould and Garden Islands. The latter of these was
our favourite resort for picnics, for the dense foliage afforded good
shade, and, when the tide was low, we were enabled to gather most
delicious oysters from some detached rocks. Gould Island is
considerably larger; but, rising in a pyramid from the sea, and being
covered with loose boulders, it was most tedious climbing. From the
township we could, with our glasses, see canoes constantly passing and
repassing between these two islands; and as the 'Daylight' had a
particularly heavy cargo this trip, and would not be clear for the next
two days, we made up our minds to search the islands, and drive the
blacks on to Hinchinbrook, so that one of our parties must stumble
across them when we swept it. This may seem to the reader unnecessary
trouble, but most of our party were conversant with the habits of the
blacks and their limited method of reasoning; and we judged it probable
that the Herbert River gins would have at once acquainted the
Hinchinbrook blacks with our unceremonious visit, and warned them that
we should probably soon look them up also. Now on the receipt of this
unwelcome intelligence, the first thing that would strike the blacks
would be the facilities for concealment afforded by Gould or Garden
Islands, more particularly had they any captives; and they would say to
themselves that we should certainly overlook these two out-of-the-way
little spots; and when we were busy on Hinchinbrook, they could easily
paddle themselves and their prisoners to some of the more distant chain
of islands, where they could lie by until all fear of pursuit was past.
Such was the opinion both of the troopers and of the experienced
bushmen; and as we were fully resolved to leave them no loophole for
escape, we jumped into our boat and pulled gently over to Garden Island.
It was about seven o'clock in the morning when we started, six
strong--four whites, and Cato, and Ferdinand--well armed, and with a
good supply of provisions. The sun was already very hot, and the water
smooth as glass, save where the prow of the boat broke the still
surface into a tiny ripple, which continued plainly visible half a mile
astern. I find it difficult to bring before the reader the thousand
curious objects that met us on our way. The sullen crocodile basking
in the sun, sank noiselessly; a splash would be heard, and a four feet
albicore would fling himself madly into the air, striving vainly to
elude the ominous black triangle that cut the water like a knife close
in his rear. Small chance for the poor fugitive, with the ravenous
shark following silent and inexorable. We lay on our oars and watched
the result. The hunted fish doubles, springs aloft, and dives down,
but all in vain; the black fin is not to be thrown off, double as he
may. Anon the springs become more feeble, the pursuer's tail partly
appears as he pushes forward with redoubled vigour, a faint splash is
heard, the waters curl into an eddy, and the monster sinks noiselessly
to enjoy his breakfast in the cooler depths beneath. And now we come
to a sand bank running out some miles or so into the bay, and on which
the water is less than three fathoms. Here the surface is broken by
huge black objects, coming clumsily to the top, shooting out a jet of
spray, and again disappearing. We let the boat glide gently along
until she rests motionless above the bank, and stooping over the side
with our faces close to the water, and sheltered by our hands, we can
peer down into the placid depths, and see the huge animals grazing on
the submarine vegetation with which their favourite feeding-place is
thickly overgrown. But what animal is he talking about? the reader will
ask. It is the dugong ('Halicore Australis'), or sea-cow, from whence
is extracted an oil equal to the cod-liver as regards its medicinal
qualities, and far superior to it in one great essential, for instead
of a nauseous disagreeable flavour, it tastes quite pleasantly. It
frequents the whole of the north-eastern coast of Australia, and when
the qualities of the oil first became known, it was eagerly sought
after by invalids who could not overcome their repugnance to the
cod-liver nastiness. The fishermen, however, spoilt their own market,
for greed induced them to adulterate the new medicine with shark oil,
and all kinds of other abominations, so that the faculty were never
quite certain what they were pouring down the throats of their unhappy
patients. Thus the oil lost its good name, though I am convinced from
personal observation that fresh, pure dugong is quite equal, if not
superior, in nourishing qualities to cod-liver oil, and do not doubt
that a time will come when it will enter largely into the
Pharmacopoeia. The animal itself is so peculiar, that a brief
description of it may not be here amiss. Its favourite haunts are bays
into which streams empty themselves, and where the water is from two to
five fathoms in depth, feeding on the 'Algae' of the submerged banks,
for which purpose the upper lip is very large, thick, and as it turns
down suddenly at right angles with the head, it much resembles an
elephant's trunk shorn off at the mouth. Its length averages from
eight to fourteen feet; there is no dorsal fin, and the tail is
horizontal; colour blue, and white beneath. Its means of propulsion
are two paddles, with which it also crawls along the bottom, and
beneath which are situated the udders, with teats exactly like a cow's.
Its flesh is far from bad, resembling lean beef in appearance, though
hardly so good to the taste, and the skin can be manufactured into
gelatine. I have often wondered that this most useful animal was not
oftener captured. A fishing establishment with a good boat, a trained
crew, and proper appliances for extracting the oil, could not fail to
return a large profit to the proprietors, and every now and then they
could kill a whale, one or more of which could be frequently seen
disporting themselves in the waters of the bay.
[Illustration--BAY ON HINCHINBROOK ISLAND, WITH NATIVES.]
By ten o'clock we had reached Garden Island, and beached the boat on a
long sandy spit that stretched into the sea. Leaving one man as
boat-keeper, we spread ourselves into line, and regularly beat the
little island from end to end, but without finding a single black; we
could, however, see their smoke-signals arising from Gould Island, and
observed several heavily-laden canoes making the best of their way
towards Hinchinbrook. Our search having been unsuccessful, we hurried
down to the boat, with the intention of cutting the fugitives off, but
found to our disgust that the tide had fallen so low during our absence
that our united strength was insufficient to move the boat, so we were
perforce compelled to remain until the return of the water. This did
not in reality so much signify, indeed, some of the party were rather
averse to our plan of intercepting the canoes, arguing that if closely
pressed, the blacks might make an end of their captives. However this
might be, there was no help for it, we were stuck fast until the
afternoon, so had to summon such philosophy as we possessed, and while
away the time as best we could. The boat's sail, spread under the
shade of a tree, kept the intense heat a little at bay until after
dinner, and this most essential part of the day's programme have been
done ample justice to, and the pipes lighted and smoked out, we
wandered about the long space left bare by the tide, amusing ourselves
by collecting oysters, cowrie shells, and periwinkles.
The way we captured the two latter was by turning over the rocks, to
the under sides of which we found them adhering in great numbers,
sticking on like snails to a garden wall. Some of the cowries were
very beautiful, particularly those of a deep brown colour approaching
to black. This kind, however, were rather rare, and the lucky finder
of a large one excited some envy. These beautiful little shells are of
all sizes, from half an inch to two inches in length. When the stone
is first turned over, the fish is almost out of its home, and the
bright colour of the shell is hidden by a fleshy integument, but a few
seconds suffice for it to withdraw within doors, and then the mottled
pattern is seen in its full beauty. The best way to get the shell
without injury to its gloss, is to keep the fish alive in a bucket of
salt water, until you reach home, and then to dig a hole a couple of
feet deep, and bury them. In a month or so, they may be taken up, and
will be found quite clean, free from smell, and as bright in hue as
during life. I have tried boiling them, heaping them in the sun, and
various other methods, but this is undoubtedly the best.
[Illustration--SATIN BOWER-BIRDS]
Should it ever fall to the lot of any of my readers to have to cook
periwinkles--and there are many worse things, when you are certain of
their freshness--let them remember that they should be boiled in 'salt
water'. This is to give them toughness; if fresh water is used,
however expert the operator may be with his pin, he will fail to
extract more than a moiety of the curly delicacy. These little facts,
though extraneous to our subject, are always worth knowing.
At one end of Garden Island, and distant from it about 200 yards,
stands a very singular rock, of a whitish hue, and when struck at a
certain angle by the sun, so much resembling the canvas of a vessel,
that it was named the "Sail Rock." At low tide this could be reached
by wading, the water being little more than knee-deep. Its base was
literally covered with oysters of the finest quality. The mere task of
getting there was one of considerable difficulty, for the rock was as
slippery as glass, and whenever you got a fall--which happened on an
average every five minutes--bleeding hands and jagged knees bore
testimony to a couch of growing bivalves being anything but as soft as
a feather bed; also the oysters cling so fast that they might be taken
for component parts of the rock, and only a cold chisel and mallet will
induce them to relinquish their firm embrace. Three or four of the
party had ventured out, and we had secured a large sackful, after which
we all retired to the tent, except one of our number, who, having a
lady-love in Cardwell with an inordinate affection for shell-fish,
lingered to fill a haversack for his 'inamorata'. We were comfortably
smoking our pipes and watching with satisfaction the tide rising higher
and higher, when a faint "coo-eh" from the direction of the rock
reached us, followed by another and another and another, each one more
shrill than the last.
"By Jove, Wordsworth's in some trouble!" exclaimed one of our party,
and, snatching up our carbines, we hurried to the end of the island at
which stood the Sail Rock. The tide had now risen considerably, and
the water between the rock and ourselves was over four feet deep, and
increasing in depth each moment. We saw poor Wordsworth clinging on to
the slippery wall, as high up as the smooth mass afforded hand-hold.
"Come along, old fellow!" we shouted; "it's not up to your neck yet."
"He turned his head over his shoulder--even at the distance we were,
its pallor was quite visible--and slowly and cautiously releasing one
hand, he pointed to the water between himself and the island.
"By Jove!" cried the pilot, "he's bailed up by a shark, look at his
sprit-sail!" and following his finger we saw an enormous black fin
sailing gently to and fro, as regularly and methodically as a veteran
sentry paces the limits of his post.
"Stick tight, old man! we'll bring the boat," and leaving the pilot to
keep up a fusillade at the monster with the carbines, we darted back.
I shall never forget the efforts we made to launch the boat, but she
was immovable, and every moment the tide was rising, the little ripples
expending themselves in bubbly foam against the thirsty sand. We
strained, we tugged, we prised with levers, but unavailingly, the boat
seemed as if she had taken root there and would not budge an inch. A
happy thought struck me all of a sudden, as a reminiscence of a similar
case that I had seen in years gone by came back in full vigour.
"Give me a tomahawk," I said.
One was produced in a minute from under the stern-sheets. Meanwhile I
had got out a couple of the oars.
"Now, Jim, you're the best axeman, off with them here!"
Half a dozen strokes to each, and the blades were severed from the
looms.
"Now boys, lay aft and lift her stern."
It was done, and one of the oars placed under as a roller.
"Now, launch together."
"Heave with a will."
"She's moving!"
"Again so. Keep her going."
"Hurrah!" and a loud cheer broke forth, as, through the medium of the
friendly rollers, the heavy boat trundled into the water.
The pull was long, at least it seemed to us long, for we had to round
the sandy spit before we could head towards the rock, and nearly got on
shore in trying to make too close a shave. We could hear the crack of
the pilot's carbine every few minutes, borne down to us by the
freshening breeze, and the agonising "coo-ehs" of poor Wordsworth,
whose ankles were already hidden by the advancing waters; added to
this, we had only two oars, and the wind, now pretty strong, was dead
in our teeth. I was steering, and Jim was standing up in the bows with
his carbine for a shot, if the shark offered such an opportunity. As
we neared the rock we could distinctly see the black fin within six
feet of the narrow ledge on which the poor fellow was standing, and
only when we approached to within a couple of boats' lengths, did the
ferocious brute sail sullenly out to sea, pursued by a harmless bullet
from Jim's rifle. Poor Wordsworth dropped into the boat fainting from
terror, exhaustion, and loss of blood, for, although he was unconscious
of it all the time, in his convulsive grip, the sharp oyster-shells had
cut his hands to the very bone. A good glass of grog and some hot
tea--the bushman's infallible remedy--soon brought him round, but the
scars on his hands and knees will accompany him to his grave. He
afterwards described the glances that the shark threw at him as
perfectly diabolical, and confessed that he it not been for the cheery
hails of the pilot, he should most certainly have relinquished his
hold, and met with a death too horrible to contemplate.
It was now about three o'clock in the afternoon, and the boat being
launched, we resolved to reach Gould Island before dark. The tent was
soon struck, the provisions stowed away, the priming of the carbines
looked to afresh, and in a few minutes we were sweeping across the
small belt of water that separated the two islands. We approached the
shore with caution, for, as I mentioned before, the sides of Gould
Island are everywhere very steep, and hostile blacks, by simply
dislodging some of the loose masses of rock, could easily have smashed
the boat and its crew to pieces without exposing themselves to the
slightest danger. Noiselessly, and with every faculty painfully alert,
we closed the land, sprang on to the rocks, and at once set about the
tedious task of breasting the hill. Hill climbing, under the vertical
sun of North Australia, is by no means an enjoyable undertaking, more
particularly when the loose shale and rock gives way at every stride,
bringing down an avalanche of rubbish on the heads of the rearmost of
the party. Encumbered with our carbines, we made but slow progress,
and it was nearly six o'clock before we attained the summit, from
whence we saw several canoes making their way with full speed towards
Hinchinbrook.
"So far then, so good," we said; "we have made certain that none of the
rascals are lurking about the two islands, and we are sure to get them
now, when we sweep Hinchinbrook."
We had now done everything that was possible until the 'Daylight' had
finished unloading, and so spread ourselves out about the island to see
if the blacks had left any of their curious implements behind them. We
were in no hurry to get back to the township, so purposed having supper
where we were, and pulling back in the cool of the evening, by the
light of the moon, which was just then in full glory. We found plenty
of traces of the blacks, the embers of their fires even still glowing,
but they had carried off everything with them, and no trophies crowned
our search of Gould Island; and yet I am wrong, for I got one memento,
which I have by me still, and which is so curious to lovers of natural
history that I am tempted to describe it. In rummaging about, I came
to a place strewed with old bones, shells, parrots' feathers, etc.,
close to which stood a platform of interwoven sticks. I was terribly
puzzled at first to account for the presence of this miniature rag and
bone depot, and my astonishment culminated when Ferdinand informed me
that--
"Bird been make it that fellow; plenty d--d thief that fellow, steal
like it pipe, like it anything."
It then flashed across me that I had fallen in with the "run" of the
bower-bird, of which I had so often heard, and had so often sought for
without success.
The satin bower-bird ('Ptilonorhynchus holosericus') belongs to the
family of starlings, and though tolerably common in New South Wales, is
but a rare visitor to the hotter climate of Northern Queensland. The
plumage of the adult male is of a glossy satin-like purple, appearing
almost black, whilst the females and the young are all of an
olive-greenish colour. The peculiarity for which this bird is
generally known, is its habit of constructing a sort of arbour of dry
twigs, to act as a playground. These bowers are usually made in some
secluded place in the bush--not infrequently under the shady boughs of
a large tree--and vary considerably in size, according to the number of
birds resorting to them, for they seem to be joint-stock affairs, and
are not limited to one pair. The bower itself is somewhat difficult to
describe, and a better idea can be formed from the engraving, or by
visiting the British Museum, where several are shown, than I can ever
hope to set before the reader in words. A number of sticks, most
artistically woven together, form the base, from the centre of which
the walls of the structure arise. These walls are made of lighter
twigs, and considerable pains must be taken in their selection, for
they all have an inward curve, which in some "runs" cause the sides
almost to meet at the top. The degree of forethought that these
self-taught architects possess is strikingly exemplified in the fact
that, whilst building the walls, any forks or inequalities are turned
'outwards', so as to offer no impediment to their free passage when
skylarking (if it is not an Irishism, using such an expression with
regard to a starling) and chasing each other through and through the
bower, to which innocent recreations, according to the testimony of
Messrs. Cato and Ferdinand, they devote the major part of their time.
Their love of finery and gaudy colours is also most remarkable.
Interwoven amongst the twigs of which the bower is composed, and
scattered about the ground in its vicinity, are found bleached bones,
broken oyster, snail, and cowrie shells, and not unfrequently, in the
more civilised districts, pieces of coloured rag, and fragments of
ribbon pilfered from some neighbouring station, for, in search of
attractive objects to decorate his playground, the bower-bird entirely
ignores the eighth commandment, and, I fear, justifies the somewhat
strong expression of "d--d thief" which Ferdinand bestowed on him.
Indeed, so well are his filching propensities known to the natives,
that they make a practice of searching the runs whenever any small
article of value is missing, and often succeed in recovering the lost
object.
I find that I have been using the pronoun 'he' hitherto, whilst
describing this insatiable love of finery, but on reflection I cannot
but think that I am utterly wrong, and that when more is known of the
domestic arrangements of the bower-bird, it will be found that the lady
alone is responsible for this meretricious taste, and that the poor
'he', whom I have so unblushingly accused, is in reality gathering
berries and fruit for the little ones, guiltless of the slightest
inclination towards picking and stealing.
These birds live and thrive in confinement, and busy themselves
immensely in the construction of runs, but they never multiply whilst
captive. Indeed, the place and manner of their breeding is as yet a
mystery, for, so skilful are they in concealment, that even the
lynx-eyed blacks have failed to discover their next.
We found the descent to the boat incomparably preferable to the tedious
climb of two hours previous, and, thanks to the promise of a "nobbler
of rum each," Cato and Ferdinand transported my precious "run" in
safety to the stern-sheets; the sun having then sunk in crimson beauty
behind the coast-range, and the breeze having fallen to the faintest
whisper, we shoved off, and pulled leisurely over the calm bay to
Cardwell, arriving about ten o'clock, to hear the welcome news that the
'Daylight' would be ready for us on the following afternoon.
HOW WE EXPLORED HINCHINBROOK ISLAND.
The sun was just showing above the distant sea-line, and the bay was
lying motionless as a mirror, with a rosy hue thrown across its placid
surface, when I awoke on the following morning, stiff from the clamber
of the preceding day. The short half-hour before the rays of the sun
have attained an unpleasant fierceness is most enjoyable in Australia,
particularly in a wild region such as Cardwell, where birds, beasts,
and fishes pursue their daily avocations, heedless of the presence of
man. My house was situated at the extreme north end of the township,
and far apart from the nearest dwelling--so much so, in fact, that it
was only by a stretch of the imagination that I could say I was
included within the village boundary. On the side farthest from the
settlement lay the virgin bush, whilst outside the garden at the back,
all was wild and rude as Nature had left it, except a small clearing I
had made for the growth of maize, sweet potatoes, etc. Now this
clearing had many enemies, and of many species, ranging from feathered
and furred to biped. The cockatoos came down in such clouds as almost
to whiten the ground, and made short work of the maize; the bandicoots
and the township pigs dug up and devoured the sweet potatoes, just as
they were becoming large enough for use--commend me to your
half-starved pig to find out in a moment where the juiciest and finest
esculent lies buried--and the chattering little opossums stripped the
peach-trees of their wealth, in which labour of love they were eagerly
assisted by the flying-foxes during the night, whilst any that had
escaped these nocturnal depredators became the spoil of two or three
idle boys, who loafed about all day, seeking mischief, and, as always
happens, succeeding in finding it, even in this sequestered region.
From this it will be seen that my efforts in the direction of husbandry
were attended with some difficulty, and, despite a real liking for the
animal world, I had imbibed a holy hatred of that particular section of
its society which insisted on devouring my substance under my very
nose, only retreating to the nearest tree until my back was turned, and
then resuming operations with unblushing effrontery. By way of a mild
vengeance, I had got into the habit of coming out every morning
directly I awoke, with my gun, and easing off both barrels amongst the
cockatoos, wallabies, or whatever particular class of robbers happened
to be afield at the moment--a practice which served as a safety-valve
for my injured feelings, whilst at the same time it provided me with a
cockatoo pie, or a good bowl of kangaroo-tail soup.
Once, in my indignation at finding my palings broken down, and some
sugar-cane, that I had been most carefully rearing, rooted up and
destroyed, while the author of the mischief, a huge sow, innocent of
the restraining ring (I would have hung the ring of the 'Devastation's'
best bower-anchor to her snout, had I been allowed to follow out my
wishes), stood gloating over the havoc she had caused. Then, in my
wrath, I had hastily loaded a carbine with a handful of salt, and
prematurely converted a portion of my enemy's flank into bacon; but
even this just act of retribution was not to be accomplished without
further loss to myself, for on receipt of my hint to move on, her
sowship dashed straight ahead, and brought down a whole panel of my
fence about her ears, owing to which the village cows, which I had
often observed throwing longing glances over the paling at my bananas,
doubtless apprised of their opportunity by the evil-minded and
malicious sow, took a mean advantage of the weakness of my defences,
and on the same night devoured everything in the garden that they
thought worthy of their attention.
Though I had now become hardened to the many injuries thus heaped upon
me, and had almost discontinued all attempts at cultivation, I still
retained the habit of stepping out into the verandah every morning with
my gun, but more with an eye to the pot than for any other reason.
Beautiful as the scene always was, it struck me that day as being of
unusual splendour. The tall gum-trees, with their naked stems, and
curious hanging leaves that exasperate the heated traveller by throwing
the scantiest of shadows, glistened dew-beaded in the rising sun. The
laughing jackass, perched upon a bare limb, was awaking the forest
echoes with his insane fits of laughter, alternating from a
good-humoured chuckle to the frenzied ravings of a despairing maniac.
Suddenly ceasing, he would dart down upon some hapless lizard, too
early astir for its own safety, and, with his writhing prey in his
bill, would fly to some other branch, and after swallowing his captive,
burst forth into a yell of self-gratulation even-more fiendish than
before. The delicate little "paddy melon," a small species of
kangaroo, turned his gracefully-formed little head, beautiful as a
fawn's, and, startled at the strange figure in the verandah, stood
hesitatingly for a few seconds, and then, bending forward, bounded into
the scrub, the noise caused by the flapping of its tail being audible
long after the little animal itself was lost to sight. The white
cockatoos, alarmed by the outcry of the sentry--for, like the English
rooks, they always tell off some of their number to keep a
look-out--who with sulphur-coloured crest, erect and outstretched neck,
kept up a constant cry of warning, rose from the maize patch, the
spotless white of their plumage glancing in the sun, and forming a
beautiful contrast to the pale straw-colour of the under portion of
their extended pinions. With discordant screams they circle about, as
if a little undetermined, and then perch upon the topmost branches of
the tallest trees, where they screech, flap their wings, and engage in
a series of either imaginary combats, or affectionate caresses, until,
the coast being clear, they are again enabled to continue their repast.
A curious and indescribable wailing cry is heard in the air, singularly
depressing in its effect, and a string of some dozen black cockatoos
flit from tree to tree, the brilliant scarlet band on the tail of the
male flashing as he alternately expands and contracts it, to keep his
balance whilst extracting the sweets from the flowers of the
'Eucalypti'. Few things present so great a contrast as the cries of
these two birds--of the same family, and so alike in everything but
colour--and yet both are disagreeable: that of the white variety from
its piercing harshness, and that of the black from an indefinable
sensation of the approach of coming evil it carries with it--at least,
such is the effect it always has upon me. On strolling to the paling
and looking into the clearing--for although my gun is in my hand, it is
loaded with ball cartridge, and I do not fire--the nimble little
bandicoot scuttled away towards his hollow log, looking so uncommonly
like a well-fattened rat, that I mentally wonder how I could ever have
had the courage to eat one, and a flight of rainbow-hued Blue Mountain
parrots, who have held their ground to the last, whirr up with a
prodigious flapping of wings, and, alighting on a gum-tree, can be seen
hanging about the blossoms, head downwards, sucking out the honey with
their uncouth beaks and awkward little tongues, which seem but badly
adapted to such a delicate task. But I find I am digressing terribly,
and the gloomy winter days of England, which make the recollection of a
bright tropical morning so agreeable a task to contemplate, must be my
excuse.
After breakfast, I hurried down to the beach to see if Tom Frewin, the
skipper of the little cutter, 'Daylight', would be likely to keep his
promise, and have the vessel ready to start by noon. I found him
busily engaged with his not over-numerous crew--for it consisted only
of a man and a boy, besides himself, though Mrs. Tom, who also lived in
the tiny craft, ought to be counted as no inconsiderable addition to
the vessel's complement, for she did the cooking, and on occasions
could take the tiller and steer as cunningly as the gallant Tom
himself. I found him hard at work hurrying the cargo over the side,
assisted by the townspeople, who all showed the greatest anxiety that
no time should be lost in setting out for the relief of the shipwrecked
men. Everything thus pointing to the probability of our getting away
that afternoon, the provision question had to be next considered, for
the party would be numerous, and the exact time our expedition would
take could scarcely be correctly estimated. We knew Government would
refund us for any reasonable outlay, and so determined our search
should not be cut short by any scarcity of food, and our fears of
overshooting the mark and laying in more than we could consume, were
allayed by Mr. McB--, the store-keeper who generously offered to supply
us, and to take back, without charge, anything that remained at the
expiration of the trip. All difficulties being thus disposed of, we
were left at liberty to make our own private arrangements, until one
o'clock, by which time the 'Daylight' would have laid in her water,
etc., and be ready to start.
But I must now say something of the party itself, which we were
compelled to limit to ten men, inclusive of the native police. These
consisted of the pilot and his crew of two men, Mr. Dunmore, the
officer in command of the police, with the two troopers, Ferdinand and
Cato, three volunteers, and myself. Where all were anxious and willing
to aid in the good task, it would have been invidious to select, and
the volunteers drew lots from a bag in which all were blanks but three,
the gainers of these lucky numbers becoming members of the party.
One other addition we had, and right yeoman's service she did, for it
was a 'she', reader as the sequel will prove. About eighteen months
before, the troopers had visited Hinchinbrook Island, to recover stolen
property, and in one of the native camps had found an exceedingly
pretty gin of some fourteen summers. The personal charms of this coy
nymph of the forest had proved too much for the susceptible heart of
Ferdinand, who, regarding her as his lawful prize, had borne her, irate
and struggling, to the boat, from whence she was in due course
transported to the police camp (mounted on the pommel of the saddle in
front of the adventurous swain), where, in a very short time she became
perfectly at home, and under the name of Lizzie, made Ferdinand a
remarkably pleasant wife.
Certainly the blacks are a curious race, the like of which was never
before seen under the sun. For two days after Lizzie's arrival in
camp, she refused to speak or eat; for the next two days she ate
everything she could lay her hands on, but still kept an unbroken
silence; and for another two days, whenever she was not eating, she
"yabbered" so much and so fast that the other gins looked on aghast,
unable to get a word in edgewise, so continuous was the flow of
Hinchinbrook vituperation. On the seventh day, as if by magic, she
brought her tirade to a close, went down to the creek with the other
gins to fetch water, cooked her husband's supper, appeared perfectly
reconciled to her change of life, and henceforth, from her sharpness,
the aptitude with which she picked up the broken English in which the
officers communicate with the troopers, and her great knowledge of the
surrounding country, she became a most useful acquisition to the camp,
and Dunmore used frequently to say that Lizzie was worth three extra
troopers. One of the most extraordinary things about her--and she was
not unique, for all the Australian blacks are alike constituted in this
respect--was the facility with which she seemed to rupture all the
natural ties of kinship and affection. Her own tribe--her father,
mother, sisters, all were apparently wiped from her mind as completely
as writing is removed from a slate by a sponge; or, if ever remembered,
it was never with any mark of regret.
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 Jack's 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
Dunmore's 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.