As the stockman rode on he saw by the look of the sky that one of those
fierce storms which occasionally visit parts of Australia, was
threatening. He had reached his farthest point from home. The country
was wild. There was no regular road, only a track which it required
sharp eyes to find out in some places. He pushed on, hoping to get home
before the storm broke. Presently, however, loud peals of thunder burst
from the sky; the lightning darted along the ground and among the trees
with a crackling noise, which made his horse start from side to side.
Down came the rain like a water-spout, and the wind sprung up and blew
in fierce gusts, tearing off huge branches of the trees, and now and
then uprooting the trees themselves. Joseph saw that it would be
dangerous to take shelter under any of the trees, so he kept as much as
he could in the open ground.
He had not gone far when he heard a cry. It was from some
fellow-creature, he was certain of that. He looked about on every side,
and at last saw that a falling tree had struck down a black man, who lay
beneath it unable to move.
Joseph fastening his horse to a stump, ran towards the poor fellow. He
was alive, and his body seemed uninjured, but his foot had been caught
by the trunk and held him fast. Had he been alone he must have died a
horrible death, for it was clear that he could not have released
himself. The black fellow saw Joseph coming, and made signs to show his
gratitude, uttering a few words of broken English. When, however,
Joseph came to look at the tree, he found that it would be no easy
matter to get the poor black from under it. He had an axe in his belt,
and with it he cut down a young sapling for a handspike, but when he
tried it he found that he could not lift the heavy trunk. Then he set
to work to dig under the foot, but the ground was as hard as a rock.
The black then made signs that he might drive something under it, and so
lift the tree.
"He means wedges," thought Joseph, and at once lopping off a thick
branch, shaped out several; the black, in spite of the pain he was
suffering, watching him with evident satisfaction. With a thick club,
which served as a hammer, Joseph drove in the wedges, and in time got
the tree lifted enough to draw out the black's leg. He then carried the
poor fellow to a bank and examined his foot. It had been caught in a
slight hollow, and was not as much hurt as might have been expected. As
well as he could with the handkerchief off his neck, he bound up the
injured limb, and then placed him on his horse.
"I shall be late at home, but I cannot let this poor black lie out here
in the woods by himself," he thought; "it is my duty to take him to my
hut and tend him till he is well. The black must have been suffering a
great deal of pain, but he bore it bravely."
"What is your name?" he asked, as he walked by his side.
"Troloo, good white man," answered the black, "Troloo lub white man."
It was pleasant to Joseph to think that the young black was grateful.
For some time the storm continued, but Joseph with his injured
companion, pushed on through it. On his way out he had crossed a small
creek with the water not much above his horse's fetlocks. As he drew
near the spot he saw that instead of the quiet blue pool, where there
had been no current, there was now a foaming and roaring torrent, its
muddy waters carrying down numerous roots and branches of trees. Still
he thought that there could be no difficulty in crossing at that spot,
and was leading the horse in, when Troloo made signs that there was much
danger in so doing, and pointed higher up the creek, trying to show that
they might there cross with greater safety. Joseph, like a wise man,
therefore turned back. On calculating the depth of the water by the
height of the bank, he judged that it was up to his arm pits, and that
had he stepped into any hole, he might have sunk with his head under
also.
"Ah, if it had not been for the black, I might have tried to cross, and
have lost my life," he thought.
After going up the creek some way, the black pointed to a spot where the
ground was very smooth and hard on either side.
"Dere, dere, cross now," he said, and made signs to Joseph to get up on
the horse.
"No, friend, a wetting won't do me any harm, and if the horse was to
stumble, with two on his back, it might be a bad job for you."
Joseph walked into the stream boldly, leading the horse. The water rose
up to his knees, then to his thighs. He kept his eyes up the stream on
the watch for any branches or trunks of trees which might be floating
down. Now by stopping, now by pushing on fast, he was able to avoid
several, others he turned aside. For some time the water was up to his
middle. The black pointed across the creek, and made signs that there
was nothing to fear. At last he reached the opposite bank. Scarcely
had he got out of the torrent, than the rain came down still harder than
before; the wind blew furiously, tearing off branches from the brittle
wood trees and sending them flying along before it. The thunder roared
and rattled with long continued peals from the sky, and the lightning
flashed more brightly than ever, darting, it seemed, from cloud to
cloud, and then went hissing along the ground like a number of fiery
serpents. The horse started and trembled, now sprang to one side, now
to the other, so that Joseph could scarcely keep the black man from
falling off. Still, like a true Briton, he pushed on. There was no use
looking for shelter, none was to be found nearer than his own hut.
Suddenly a flash darted from a cloud just overhead, and seemed to strike
the ground directly in front of Joseph. A moment before he had seen
clearly. He made a few steps forward expecting again to see his way,
but the bright light alone was in his eyes; nothing could he see. He
rubbed his hand over his face.
"Oh, I am blind," he cried out in his grief.
It was some time before the black could understand what had happened.
He uttered some expressions showing his sorrow, in his own tongue.
"Come, no fear, black fellow show way," he said at last, taking Joseph's
hand. Thus they journeyed on, Joseph holding on to the horse, and
Troloo guiding it.
The storm seemed to have spent its fury. After this the rain ceased,
the thunder no longer rattled in the sky, nor did the lightning flash,
and the clouds passed away. Joseph had no difficulty in knowing this.
He was, however, not at all certain that Troloo was leading him towards
his hut. This made him anxious, because, though he could not be very
far wrong, it would delay his arrival at home. He tried to talk with
the black man, but they could not make out what each other said, so they
became silent. On and on they went.
In the morning he had galloped quickly over the ground; now, he was
creeping along, each moment expecting to fall. Suddenly his dog Trusty
started off and gave a cheerful bark, which was answered by Toby, Sam's
dog, and by old Mat's dogs, all of which came running out, and he felt
them licking his hands. He cried out, "Any one at home?" Presently he
heard his wife's voice, and Bobby's and the rest of the children.
"Why, Joseph, what is the matter?" exclaimed poor Sarah, running up to
her husband.
"Why wife, I've a cross to bear, I fancy," answered Joseph, taking
Sarah's hand which she put out; "God knows what's best. If I am to
remain blind, He has some reason for it. But here is this poor black
fellow, his foot is terribly hurt, and he is in great pain; look after
him, I can wait, or I'll bathe my eyes in warm water, I can do nothing
else."
With an aching heart, Sarah placed her husband in a chair, and then
helped the black off the horse, and with the aid of Bobby and Mat, who
came up, carried him into the hut, and placed him on Sam's bed. She
then bathed his foot and bound it up in a wet cloth, and then gave him
some food. Troloo was evidently grateful, and took every means to show
it. Night came, but Joseph still remained totally blind.