The Foray.--Young Potatoes.--More Intruders.--Ruth's Introduction to the
Savages.--The Sailing of the Fleet.--The Desert Shore.--The Giant
Ant-hill.--Once more at Sea.--A Storm, and the Loss of the Catamaran.
When they arrived at the lake, they found the margin crowded with the
nests of aquatic birds, built among the reeds, and a dozen fine ducks
were soon taken. Ruth filled a large basket with eggs, and finally a
quantity of fish was procured. With this ample provision they turned
homewards; but passing the plot they had sowed with potatoes on their
first arrival at the cove, they were astonished to see how forward the
plants were; and on digging they found young potatoes, of which they
carried away a small bag; but as they still had a large supply of those
found in the wreck, they left the greater part for the benefit of
succeeding visitors.
When they came near the height above the beach, on which they had first
seen the footsteps of the natives, Hugh and Gerald went to the cliff to
look over once more on the well-remembered spot, but started back
immediately, for, to their deep distress, they beheld a considerable
number of naked savages, painted with white chalk in a most frightful
manner, dancing, singing, and throwing up their arms as if they were
frantic.
The boys made a signal of silence to the rest; but Ruth, who was
always, as Jenny said, in the wrong place, had followed the boys to the
cliff, and, curious to know what they had seen below, she leaned forward
to look down through an opening in the bush. O'Brien, alarmed lest she
should be seen darted forward to seize her arm and draw her back; but
startled by the action, and terrified by the scene below, she lost her
balance, and, encumbered with the heavy basket, tottered over the edge,
rolled down the steep cliff through the crackling, thorny brushwood, and
alighted amidst the strange wild crew on the beach.
Springing up and looking round, the distracted girl uttered a succession
of shrill screams, and the natives, in equal terror and amazement, gazed
on the strange creature that had so suddenly descended amongst them. Her
hair, which was very long, and of a fiery red color, was flying loose
over her scarlet cloak, her wild eyes were starting from her head, and
her pallid face was streaming with blood from the scratches she had
received in her descent. For a moment the savages appeared paralyzed;
then, without looking round, they fled to their canoes; and the next
minute were seen paddling with all speed from the shores haunted by such
a frightful spectre.
By this time, Jack, in great alarm about his sister, had descended to
the beach, and was immediately followed by the rest of the young men;
and the distressed, woe-begone aspect of Ruth, who continued to sob and
groan even after her fears were subdued, made Gerald laugh heartily, in
spite of the tragic consequences that might have ensued from the
accident.
"Come along, girl," said Jack, kindly. "Thank God you are not much
worse; so what have you to cry about now?"
"It's the eggs, Jack," she sobbed out. "What must I do? They're all
broken, and what will Jenny say to me?"
"Never mind that," answered he; "take up your basket, and come away with
me to the lake, where you can wash your face and fill your basket again,
and make the best of a bad job."
Jack's practical philosophy consoled the weeping girl, who collected
more eggs, and soon recovered from the distress of her adventure. The
boys found that the timid natives had left behind them in their fright
spears, boomerangs, and some excellent cordage, twisted of the fibres of
the stringy bark tree. Wilkins would gladly have carried off these, and
unwillingly relinquished them at the command of Mr. Mayburn. "What
matters," said he, "standing on ceremony with them there black fellows.
Why, they would niver ax your leave to snatch t' bite out of yer mouth!"
which observation drew down on Wilkins a rebuke from Mr. Mayburn, and an
exposition of the law of honesty, as established by God and man.
All the property of the natives was therefore left untouched, and the
family returned to their own quiet nook, now more anxious than ever to
leave a place to which curiosity, or the desire to recover their
weapons, might at any moment bring back the late undesirable visitors.
Every one was now busily employed: a small number of potatoes were again
planted, and the remainder of their store packed in sail-cloth bags. The
ducks and fish were cooked; the eggs of the wild-fowl, as well as a
quantity which Ruth's poultry had produced, were boiled hard, and packed
with soft grass in a box. The water-cask was filled; and then all the
packages and provisions were lashed securely to the raft, which they had
finished by a mast and sail made from some rent remains of canvas on the
masts of the wreck.
The large sail which had formed the tent cover was spread over the whole
of the freightage and nailed down. Then the bottoms of the canoes were
spread with fine grass for seats, and after a thanksgiving to God, who
had given them the power and the means to accomplish this important
undertaking, the family lay down in the balmy, dry, spring air of that
delicious climate, to take their last night's rest on the friendly isle.
The first dawn of morning roused them to action. Spies were sent to the
heights to ascertain that the coast was quiet; then the first canoe,
containing Mr. Mayburn and Margaret, Arthur and Hugh, was launched, and
carried safely over the reefs. Jack and O'Brien, with Jenny and Ruth,
filled the second, and Wilkins followed, paddling the heavy raft.
"I'm not easy in my mind, Jack," said nurse, "for Master Gerald is up to
any mischief; and if he sets Ruth on, we'se all be drowned."
"Keep your eyes on her, Mrs. Wilson," answered Jack; "and if she will
not sit still, we'll have her tied upon Wilkins's catamaran." O'Brien's
laughter at the idea of Ruth being stowed with the luggage, made the
poor girl shed tears; but she was comforted with the care her chickens
required, she having persisted in retaining the charge of her pets.
For an hour they labored steadily, without any rest, till a westerly
breeze got up, and Wilkins, to his great relief, was able to hoist his
sail; for he had previously been crying out for a helping hand. Then the
catamaran floated briskly over the waves, which were, however, a little
more raised by the wind than was pleasant for the slender canoes. But
even the most timid took courage when the long line of low coast became
plainly visible. No threatening rocks or foaming breakers appeared to
create terror; and all seemed so favorable to the voyage of the
unskilled mariners, that they began to be fastidious in their choice of
a landing-place.
"Let us coast awhile, Arty," said Hugh, "till we come to the mouth of a
river, which will insure us a fertile coast. There is no occasion for us
to land on a desert."
"There would only be one danger in such a choice," replied Arthur,--"The
natives may also prefer the fertile coast, and would be likely to oppose
the landing of intruders. I think I should prefer to land at first on an
uninhabited spot. We could then examine the country, and determine our
future course. It appears to me, as we draw nearer, and can observe the
low coast opposite to us, that the landing would suit our canoes. What
do you say, papa?"
"I think you are right, Arthur," answered he. "I see trees above the
beach; and surely I distinguish large birds on the shore, a still more
encouraging prospect."
Margaret looked intently for some time in silence; then, turning to her
brother, she said, "Are those figures we see really birds, Arthur?"
Arthur looked round once more towards the coast, and then, calling out
to the other boats, "South! south!" he altered the direction of the
canoe, and said,--
"After all, papa, we must coast a few miles, at least; for those figures
are the natives, who are, as I now see, armed with spears, and will
probably resist our landing, regarding us as foreign invaders. We must
not begin our pilgrimage by going to war."
"Do you think Peter is with them?" asked Hugh.
"I do not suspect that he is," said Arthur. "I fancy Peter's associates
were islanders; but we must avoid all intercourse with the natives as
long as we can."
"How glad I am, brother," said Margaret, "that we are sailing south. How
happy we should all be if we could ever reach the dear Deverells."
"My dear sister," answered Arthur, laughing, "you surely do not expect
that we can voyage along the whole coast of West Australia in these
shells. If we ever purpose to meet the Deverells again, we must have
stout vessels for the sea, and wagons and horses for the land journey;
which could only be obtained by the influence of some powerful fairy in
our present desolate position."
"Nevertheless, Arthur," said his father, "if God permits us to set our
feet on that continent in safety, my aim shall be to discover, if
possible, the estate of that estimable young man; and to offer myself to
undertake the church of his new colony. I now despair of ever reaching
my destination in India, and my heart and my wishes point to Daisy
Grange."
The eyes of his children sparkled as they listened to the speculations
of their father; though Arthur smiled and shook his head, and Margaret
sighed, as they thought on the difficulties of so prodigious an attempt.
"Never despair, Meggie," said Hugh; "we'll do it. We are all strong
fellows, in sound health, and I flatter myself tolerably ingenious. I
feel full of resources, and Jack is a mine of wealth. If we succeed in
crossing the sea in these slender toy boats, I do not see why we should
not traverse the whole continent of Australia, with our stout frames and
bold hearts."
"To me," said Mr. Mayburn, "it would be the realization of a
long-indulged dream to set my foot in a new and lovely world,
'To slowly trace the forest's shady scene,
Where things that own not man's dominion dwell,
And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been.'
Yes, my children, I also believe that, by God's help, we may penetrate
the wilderness, and look on wonder hidden since the day of creation. I
am content to encounter hardships. Let us go on."
"But, papa," answered Arthur, "_c'est le premier pas qui coûte_; and
this first step we have yet to make--the step upon _terra firma_.
Margaret thinks that must be very easy; but we poor mariners, who know
'the dangers of the seas,' have some notion of the difficulties of
landing a bark canoe on an unknown coast, without rudder, lead, anchor,
or any nautical appliance; and not one amongst us, as you know, papa,
far advanced in the study of the grand science of navigation."
"That is wholly my fault, my boys," answered Mr. Mayburn. "I ought to
have arranged that the charming science of navigation should form one of
your mathematical recreations; but I never dreamed that you would be
called upon to make use of a branch of knowledge so rarely cultivated in
the quiet life of retirement to which we were called. But are we not
some miles from those threatening savages now, Arthur?"
"Not quite far enough, sir," said Arthur. "They may have watched, and
intend to follow us. We will put a dozen miles between us before we make
for the shore. But I see poor Wilkins is quite worn out, and, as his
sail is useless now, I must spare you to help him, Hugh, and papa will
take an oar."
They approached near enough to mark the variations of the coast, now
flat and sandy, then rugged, and occasionally bristling with rocks,
which would have torn their little bark to shivers if they had
encountered them. At last every arm was exhausted, and the opposite
coast being low and untenanted, they rowed up to it with caution, looked
keenly round for reefs and hidden rocks, of which they were in great
dread.
"Let us run in first," shouted Wilkins from his raft. "We can bide a
shock better nor ye, and likely we may help ye out of yer troubles a
bit, when we've gotten this ugly craft landed."
Margaret felt some alarm for Hugh; but Arthur reminded her that Wilkins
was, in fact, the only sailor amongst them; besides, rough as he was, he
was too much attached to the boy to lead him into any danger. So the
canoes lay to, watching the clumsy catamaran paddled into shallow water.
Then they saw Wilkins wade to shore, towing in his raft with a rope,
till at length, by the aid of Hugh, it was safely drawn on a low, broad,
sandy beach.
Wilkins then hailed Arthur, pointed out the mode of bringing in the
canoes; and wading out breast-high in the water to assist him, finally
all were happily landed.
"There's an ugly sand-bank just out yonder," said Wilkins, "and I were
feared ye might run atop on it. Now ye niver thought, master, these bits
of cockle-shells should turn out grand sailers as they are. I say, Jack,
man, ye'll try a three-decker next, I reckon."
Wilkins was in high good-humor, tired as he was, with his successful
voyage; and declared Hugh was a clever little chap, and he liked him
better than any other lad he had ever seen. And now Margaret saw, with a
hopeful heart, that the man was really changed; his rough and lowering
countenance began to look brighter; and the desperate convict was thus
providentially led into the path of reformation.
"Now that we are really landed," said Mr. Mayburn, "I would ask what we
are to do."
"I should answer, papa," said Hugh, "let us eat, and rest; for you have
no idea how tired and hungry Wilkins and I are."
All declared the suggestion was excellent, and while the provisions were
got from the catamaran, Arthur walked a little way from the beach to
inspect the country, and saw before him only a wide bare plain, skirted
towards the sea by a few mangroves, and apparently devoid of all
inhabitants, rational or brute. This was not a promising prospect; all
that could be said of it was, that it was quiet; though they were
dreadfully annoyed by the mosquitos when they sat down to dinner
under the shade afforded by the mangroves.
As they ate their wild duck, they seriously discussed the future. They
were reluctant to set out over the plains and abandon their little
fleet, lest circumstances should render it necessary to resume their
voyage.
"What say you, Hugh, my boy," said Gerald, "if you and I were to take a
run across these downs, and look out for a pleasant place for an
encampment, out of the way of these rascally stinging beasts?"
"What say you, Arthur," asked Hugh, "will your excellency permit two of
your humble servants to set out on an exploring expedition?"
"I think it would be more prudent for his excellency to command the
expedition in person," said Arthur; "I dare not trust you, my
thoughtless lads, and we can leave a safe protection for the garrison in
our two heroes, Jack and Wilkins; therefore let us march at once. Take
the gun out of its case, and give it into my charge; and you can carry
the spears and throwing-sticks."
The young men had completed, while in the island, a number of spears and
throwing-sticks, from the models of those left behind by the natives;
they had even successfully imitated the boomerang,--that mysterious
weapon of warfare, so eccentric in its movements, and so remarkable in
its effect; but they had not yet attained the art of casting it. Bows
and arrows had been commenced, and these Jack undertook to employ
himself in completing during their absence.
Though Arthur was a prudent and safe protector for his young brothers,
and Wilkins and Jack were powerful defenders to leave behind, the family
did not separate without considerable anxiety. The young men crossed
the plains directly from the beach, satisfied that they were in safety
on that vast open waste, on which not even a growth of brushwood offered
concealment for a foe. A loose, sandy soil, covered with thin, brown
grass, gave to these sterile downs the appearance of a perfect desert.
To crown all, they could not see in any direction the indication of
water; and, thankful that they had brought a supply of this precious
necessary of existence from the island that would last them for many
days, Arthur still felt every moment more convinced that it would be
folly to linger on this inhospitable coast, where, unfurnished with any
means of hastening their progress to a more fertile region, they should
be in danger of perishing with famine.
"We shall have to try the canoes again, Hugh," said he.
"It would be all very good fun," said Gerald, "if it was not such hard
work. And it's little use hoisting a sail, for ten to one we shall have
a contrary wind."
"I hardly think the odds are so great as that against a fair wind my
boy," answered Arthur; "but at all events hard work is better than hard
fare. So we must just get such a night's rest as the mosquitos will
permit us, and then try a bit of coasting in the morning. We can hardly
come on a more cheerless coast than this."
"What in the world is that before us, Arthur?" exclaimed Hugh. "This
coast must be inhabited, for this erection is certainly the work of
man's hand. It is one of the pyramids of Egypt in miniature."
"No, Hugh, man's hand has never meddled with this structure," replied
Arthur. "I recognize it from description as one of the marvels of
insect industry--an ant-hill. Observe the skill and ingenuity that must
have been displayed to construct this huge abode for a countless nation.
This firm yellow clay is now so hardened that without some tools we
could scarcely overthrow it."
"I see no entrance," said Hugh, "is it possible that it is inhabited?"
"Look here, close to the ground," answered Arthur, "at this tiny speck
of an aperture, from which I have just seen a diminutive insect emerge!
and it has been remarked, that these creatures, the smallest of their
species, erect themselves the most lofty abodes. This must be eight feet
in height, and wonderful as it appears externally as the work of that
minute creature, the interior, we read, is still more astonishing--a
miracle of perfection in art."
"Let us open it, Arthur, and have a peep at the curious little nation,"
said Gerald.
"And thus destroy the labor of thousands!" answered Arthur. "No, Gerald,
you would surely never wish to be so wantonly destructive. We had better
remember the advice of Solomon, 'Consider its ways, and be wise.'"
"Margaret will laugh at our exploits as foragers," said Hugh. "We have
certainly seen an ant-hill, but we have not even found an egg to carry
home. I wish we could pick up any token of life or vegetation in this
desert. Let us make a little tour, Arthur. I have my eye on our
land-mark, that tall, bare, spectral mangrove."
Arthur did not object to walk a short distance towards the south,
anxious to obtain a more extensive view of the coast; but they went
over the bare, uninteresting soil for two hours without any
satisfaction. A single dry, withered acacia spread its thin branches
before them; and Arthur was glad to climb it to extend his view along
the coast line. But all appeared desolation: not a hill, a rock, or a
green fringe to denote vegetation or water. He descended, much
disappointed, and silently and thoughtfully they directed their steps to
the boats.
It was night before they reached their anxious friends, who saw in their
jaded and melancholy countenances the disappointment of their hopes.
"Didn't I tell ye all along," grumbled Wilkins, "as how north were yer
point, and ye'll have to make a north course, after all. I've run along
this here coast long afore this, and I say again, ye'll find neither
meat nor water for hundreds of miles down south."
"I must allow, Wilkins," answered Arthur, "that voyagers have ever
stated that this coast from the eighteenth to the twenty-fifth degree of
latitude is certainly desert; and that in the lower latitudes it is
fertile and well watered; but by returning north we are flying from the
aim of our hopes, and must necessarily risk encounters with the
natives."
Margaret sighed as she thought of removing still further from the
Deverells, and Wilkins said,--
"Never ye heed them black fellows; they're nought but a set of reet down
cowards, to be fled away by that silly bit lass. We're six clever chaps
again 'em, and if we bully a bit at first, we'se drive 'em afore us like
sheep."
Mr. Mayburn shook his head, and Arthur had some doubts of such an easy
victory; but it was expedient to keep up the spirit of the party, and
he made no answer. Then, mortifying as it was to retrace their course,
it was finally agreed they should sail north next morning, keeping in
sight of the coast, and avoiding the landing-place where they had seen
the natives the previous day. They proposed to seek the mouth of a
river, if they could possibly discover one, which might form an easy
mode of access to the interior.
Jack had during the day carefully examined the canoes, added a fresh
coating of the gum, which he had brought with him, and lashed the
timbers of the raft tight and firm. Then, after an uneasy night of
vexatious contentions with the mosquitos, they breakfasted, prayed for
God's blessing on their perilous enterprise, and once more committed
themselves to the ocean.
Since they first landed on their little island, the weather had
continued to be invariably calm and beautiful, and even the thoughtless
Ruth and the rude convict seemed to be struck with the "witchery of the
clear blue sky," while the more intelligent did not forget to thank
their bounteous Creator, who had tempered their little trials with this
blessing. Now, cheered by the bright sky and the fresh sea breeze, the
young rowers plied their oars with willing hands, singing merrily as
they urged their fragile barks over the light curling waves.
Hugh had joined Wilkins, as on the previous day, and, favored by a south
wind they spread the sail. Wilkins, however, augured no good of this
favorable breeze, declaring the south wind was always the fore-runner of
a storm; but they might as well make the best of a bad job, by easing
their arms a bit. But for many hours they sailed on favorably and
uninterruptedly, for Margaret had taken care that each canoe should be
amply provisioned for the day. When they passed that part of the coast
where the natives had been assembled on the previous day, they saw that
it was now untenanted; but they felt no inclination to visit a locality
so frequented, so continued their voyage; and on passing a hilly shore
about a mile further north, they not only saw the people collected in
numbers and waving their spears, but could hear their yells as they
ventured to approach within a mile of the shore.
"I say, Wilkins, my man," said Hugh. "Do you fancy our little troop
could drive all that lot of fellows before us like a flock of sheep? I
should hardly like to make the experiment, unless each of us was armed
with a good rifle."
"That's just what we want, Master Hugh," replied Wilkins. "It were just
that there gun, as I grudged that rogue Peter a vast deal more nor bags
of bread and such like. If we'd had a few more guns, we might have
defied every black fellow alive atween here and Perth. They've not that
sense to make out what it is, as makes all that clatter and smoke; and
it's just because they ken nought about it as makes 'em so soft.... But,
halloo! Master Hugh, I don't half like yon sky, we'se have some weather
afore long."
Hugh hailed the canoes, to announce to Arthur the meteorological
observations of Wilkins; and as the man had certainly more experience
than any of the party, they could not help feeling a little alarmed.
Arthur looked anxiously towards the coast for a favorable landing-place,
but here, only high bare cliffs ran along the shore, against which the
waves dashed with a fury that warned them they must not approach near.
Gradually, the sky grew dark with clouds, the wind was heard before it
was felt; and before Hugh and Wilkins could tear down their rude sail,
the raft was whirled round, and hurried furiously past the canoes
towards a sort of eddy which was dashing and foaming not a quarter of a
mile before them. With all the speed they could make, Arthur and his
father rowed forward to rescue Hugh and Wilkins, regardless, at that
moment, of the fate of the raft itself.
The two men had now got the sail lowered; the raft was dashed amongst
the breakers, but Arthur's canoe gained on them, and he could hear
Wilkins hailing them, "Keep clear of the eddy; and send us a rope."
Fortunately the mooring rope was still attached to the canoe, and Arthur
endeavored, though many times ineffectually, to fling it within reach of
the doomed catamaran.
At length Wilkins secured the rope, and binding it firmly round Hugh, he
flung the boy clear of the tossing raft. Arthur and the half-distracted
father hauled the rope gently, as long as the poor lad seemed able to
contend against the waves, and when he seemed to have yielded to their
violence, they drew him, senseless, to the canoe. The cares of Margaret
soon restored him, and in the mean time Wilkins had plunged into the
boiling waves, and though a good swimmer, he with much difficulty
reached the canoe, which they saw, with distress, was now far too much
laden in such a sea.