with the game, and a great feast took place that evening. We neglected
no opportunity of gaining information about both the shipwrecked crew
and the unknown white man, whose grave we were to visit on the
following morning. Through Lizzie we questioned different individuals
separately, but they all agreed that such an event as the loss of a
vessel and the arrival of her crew amongst the blacks, could not
possibly have happened without their hearing something of it. From
their imperfect knowledge of time, and their difficulty in expressing
any number higher than five, we could not form the slightest idea how
long the white man had lived among them; but they pointed to the ranges
behind the township of Cardwell as indicating the place where he first
joined them.
We camped at the opposite end of the water-hole, not thinking it
judicious to remain too close to our allies, and kept a strict watch
during the night; but we might all have enjoyed a good sleep in perfect
safety, for the blacks were far too busy stuffing themselves with emu
meat to think of treachery. Before sunrise we started, guided by our
late captive and two of his companions. After a tedious walk, we
arrived at an open plain, on which the grass was trodden down in every
direction, in some places worn quite away by the feet of the
natives--for this was the great "bora ground" of the coast tribes,
where the mystic ceremonies mentioned in a former chapter took place.
Traversing the sacred plain, our thoughts busy in conjecturing the
weird scenes that the posts had witnessed, we came to a little creek
whose clear stream babbled cheerfully among the rocks, and soon saw a
giant fig-tree, which our guides indicated as being the spot we sought.
As we approached we perceived a greyish-looking form on a large limb
about ten feet from the ground, and a closer inspection revealed to us
that it was unmistakably the body of a white man, rolled up in tea-tree
bark, and kept in its position by fastenings of split cane. We could
not examine the corpse very minutely, for it was too offensive; but
from the portions of the face that still remained, and the long blonde
locks and red beard, we satisfied ourselves that the poor wanderer was
not one of the 'Eva's' crew; indeed, we judged that his death must have
taken place some time before the loss of that vessel. We were much
pleased to observe the respect with which the natives had treated the
remains, and as they think that exposure either on a platform or in a
tree is the most honourable way in which a corpse can be disposed of,
we left the body as we found it, and returned to the camp, where we
passed the night.
Our damper was now at an end, and we had no flour with us, so made up
our minds to return to the boat. On talking the matter over, it seemed
quite clear that the shipwrecked men had never been thrown on this part
of the coast, and that any further exploration would only be lost time.
On the following morning we presented the tribe with our knives, and
some matches, and taking a friendly leave of them, started for the
Macalister, accompanied by two of the warriors. We reached the boat on
the sixth day, found the pilot and his party well, and having dismissed
the blacks, with the present of a tomahawk and a blanket, we started at
once for the place lower down the river, which had been agreed upon
with Jack Clark as a rendezvous. When we arrived at this spot on the
following day, the horsemen had not turned up, so we amused ourselves
as best we could, fishing, shooting, and eating damper thickly
plastered over with honey, for Larry had found a "sugar bag."
The way the trooper performed this feat was not a little ingenious.
Having noticed several bees about, he caught one, and with a little
gum, attached to it a piece of down from a large owl that somebody had
shot. Releasing the insect, it flew directly towards its nest, the
unaccustomed burden with which it was laden serving not only to make it
easily visible, but also impeding its flight sufficiently to admit of
the boy following it. The next was at the top of a large blue gum
tree, about three feet in diameter, and sending up a smooth column for
fifty feet without a branch or twig. Most people would have given up
all thoughts of a honey feed for the day; not so Mr. Larry, whose
movements we followed with considerable curiosity. Divesting himself of
his clothing, he repaired to an adjoining scrub, and with his tomahawk
cut out a piece of lawyer cane twenty feet in length. Having stripped
this of its husk, he wove it into a hoop round the tree of just
sufficient size to admit his body. Slinging his tomahawk and a
fishing-line round his neck, he got inside the hoop, and allowing it to
rest against the small of his back, he pressed hard against the tree
with his knees and feet. This raised him several inches, when with a
dexterous jerk he moved the portion of the hoop furthest away from him
a good foot up the stem, and thus--somewhat on the same principle that
boys climb a chimney, for the hoop represented the chimney--he worked
himself upward, and in much less time than I have taken to describe it,
was astride on the lowest branch, and chopping vigorously at the hollow
which contained the golden store. The use of the fishing-line now
became apparent, for we bent on to its end a small tin billy (round
can), used for making tea, and by hauling this up and filling it, Larry
soon supplied us with honey enough to fill our bucket and the boat's
baler. As perhaps my readers may be tempted to wonder why the bees did
not attack the naked hide of the robber who was thus rudely despoiling
them, I must state that the wild Australian bee is stingless. It is a
harmless little insect, not much larger than the common house-fly, and
though it produces abundance of honey and wax, it has not been
subjected to domestication, and from its diminutive proportions and its
habit of building on very high trees, probably never will be. The
English bee has been most successfully introduced into Queensland; and
many of the farms in the neighbourhood of Brisbane make a good thing
out of their honey and wax.
A meeting was held the next day, at which it was agreed that all
further search would be useless, and, indeed, I am certain that every
possible measure had been attempted for the discovery of the missing
men. There seems every reason to think that the ill-fated 'Eva' was
sunk in the cyclone. Most likely she went down in deep water, and all
on board her were drowned. Such was the supposition that received most
favour at the time, and with it we must rest content until the great
day when all secrets are revealed.
End of Project Gutenberg's Australian Search Party, by Charles Henry Eden