Boat-building again.--Unlucky Ruth.--The Woods on Fire.--Dangers on Land
and Water.--The Wounded Girl.--A Home among the Mountains.--The
Bottle-tree.--The Bee-hunt.--Bean-coffee.--The Lost Hunters.
At the first merry cry of the laughing jackass, which announced the dawn
as regularly as the English cock-crow, the workmen rose to labor at
their hopeful undertaking; and before many hours were passed the canoes
were nearly finished, and the women were busy cutting down grass for
seats; when Ruth, who had left them, came rushing back through the wood,
with her wildest look of distraction, crying out, "They seed me! Miss
Marget, they seed me!"
"Thou unlucky lass!" exclaimed Jenny. "Where hast thou been? and who's
seen thee?"
"Them black men, they seed me!" answered she. "I were cutting some oats
for my hens; and I heared 'em shouting out their _coo-ee_, and when I
looked round I seed a lot of 'em, a long way off, and I skriked out; I
couldn't help it, Miss Marget, and then they _coo-eed_ again, and off I
ran. But I'se feared they heared me skrike, onyhow."
Margaret, in deep dismay, communicated this unfortunate event to her
brothers, and Arthur went through the wood to reconnoitre. From a hidden
retreat he observed a troop of men, still at a great distance, who
appeared to be stooping down to mark some track on the ground, from
which he judged Ruth's cries had been unnoticed. He returned in haste
to report his observations.
"They've tracked us, sure enough," said Wilkins. "Sharp's the word,
lads, we may distance 'em yet, if we work hard. We'se run down t' water
at a bonnie rate."
"I will watch and report their approach, while you all work at the
boats," said Margaret. "Where shall I stand, Wilkins?"
"Just here, Miss," answered he, "aback of this thick bush. There's yer
peep-hole; and shout when they get close up."
Margaret's first shout was a terrific one. "Arthur! Wilkins!" she cried
in a frantic voice. "Oh! God help us! whither shall we flee? The
wretches are firing the wood."
The savages, taking advantage of a north wind, had fired the long dry
grass--a common practice with the natives. It was already fiercely
blazing, and rushing towards the wood with resistless fury. The ground
on which the travellers had encamped, and the spot where the young men
were working, they had fortunately cleared for beds, and for seats in
the boats; and now, while Jack and Arthur finished the canoes, the rest
cut down the brushwood round, and flung it into the river, leaving a
space of twenty or thirty yards wide quite cleared. But beyond that rose
the lofty trees, that, once blazing, must shower down destruction on
them.
Already the crackling of the trees announced that the conflagration was
begun in the woods, and that no time must be lost, if they hoped to
escape from it. Flights of white cockatoos, of bright-colored parrots,
and glittering bronze pigeons, rose screaming from their desolated
homes, and affrighted opossums sprang from their nests, swung on the
trees, or fell senseless with the smoke on the ground. But in this time
one canoe was completed and launched, with the women, all the baggage,
and Mr. Mayburn and Hugh to direct it. They had been swept down the
river to a considerable distance from the fire before the second canoe,
imperfectly completed, whirled off with the rest of the family, who
reached their friends at a point of safety, with wild looks and scorched
hair.
Then they all rested a moment, to look back on the terrific and still
spreading conflagration, by the red light of which they saw the
frightful outline of the dark forms, among whom, though now naked, and
scarcely less dark than the rest, they distinguished the muscular and
ungraceful form of Peter, which strangely contrasted with the stately,
slender, and agile forms of the natives.
"He's not lit on them t' other rangers yet," said Wilkins. "That's a
good job, onyhow; for, ye see, they'd horses, and we'd fairly been
hunted down like foxes."
Augmented by the recent rains, the river flowed in an uninterrupted
course, and before the evening and the calls of hunger induced them to
arrest their flight, the grateful family believed they must have
progressed twenty-five or thirty miles to the south-east, with very
slight exertion, through new and lovely scenes of hill, vale, rocky
mountains, and rich forests.
Then, on the margin of the river, beneath the shelter of a thick wood,
they landed, to thank God for their escape, and to take rest. Mussels, a
sort of cray-fish, and the river-cod, formed their supper, which was
cooked in fear and trembling, lest the smoke of their fire should bring
on them the savages, or the flames should spread to the brushwood, a
catastrophe they now regarded with horror.
Before they set out the following morning, the canoes were completely
finished, and oars and paddles added: thus their progress was safe and
easy, and for three days no accident arrested their course; but on the
fourth day they were compelled to land, to repair a rent in one of the
canoes, and were startled at their labor by the sound of the "_coo-ee_"
and an alarming rustling among the trees. Without delay the canoes were
carried to the water, and all embarked; nor had they proceeded twenty
yards before a large opening appeared in the wooded bank, which had
evidently been cleared by fire. Here they beheld the first permanent
settlement of the natives they had yet met with. Many large huts stood
round, formed of boughs, and thatched with bark. Several fires were
burning, around which the women and children were gathered, and a number
of men, armed with spears and clubs, advanced to the bank with
threatening aspect, when they saw the canoes.
Loud and angry words were heard, which Baldabella interpreted to
be,--"What for white men come here? Go away! go away!" And the way in
which they waved their clubs and stone tomahawks was very intimidating.
"Best take no notish of their antics, Mr. Arthur," said Wilkins; and,
all agreeing in the wisdom of the counsel, they rowed forward, the men
still uttering defiance against the strange invaders, and apparently
amazed that their threats were received with indifference. But Ruth,
whom Jenny had been ineffectually endeavoring to calm, at last could no
longer control her terror, and poured forth such a succession of
shrieks, that the savages seemed encouraged, and immediately directed a
volley of spears against the canoes.
The swift motion happily discomfited their attempt, and but one spear
took effect, seriously wounding the right arm of Ruth, which she had
held up to shield her face.
A few moments carried the boats beyond the reach of the weapons, and
they continued their voyage, till they believed themselves safe from the
pursuit of the assailants. Mr. Mayburn and Margaret bound up the wound
of Ruth, which bled profusely, and was very painful, and she could not
be persuaded that she should ever recover. She declared that she was
killed, and she earnestly begged that she might be buried in a
church-yard, till Jenny, out of patience with her cowardice, said,--
"Be quiet, ye silly wench; where think ye we're to find a church-yard
among these heathens?"
"Then they'll eat me, Jenny!" she cried, in great horror.
"Be comforted, Ruth," said Margaret; "you are under the protection of a
merciful God; and as long as we are spared, we will take care of you,
and even bury you if it be His will that you die before us. But, believe
me, Ruth, though your wound must be painful, there is no danger for your
life, unless you cry and fret yourself into a fever; so pray be
patient."
"I will, Miss Marget," sobbed she. "Indeed I will, if you will feed my
hens, and gather corn, whiles, for 'em. Shame on them black savages as
burned down all that good corn."
The fretfulness and timidity of Ruth, however, inflamed the wound
greatly; and before the next day ended, they thought it prudent to
disembark at some quiet spot, where she could have shelter and rest. The
banks of the river had now become rocky, gradually sloping upwards to
rugged and irregular mountains, amongst which they trusted to find the
shelter they desired. A sloping bank offered them a landing-place, and
they disembarked, and the men bearing the light canoes on their
shoulders, they left the river. Jack carried Ruth, now quite unfit for
exertion, in his arms, and they were soon plunged into a maze of
mountains, cut apart by narrow ravines, some of which were choked with
fallen stones, and through others clear streams of water poured between
rocks covered with new and graceful ferns, some of which were of
gigantic size.
The further they penetrated into this maze, the more they became
perplexed and embarrassed. At length, O'Brien, who had forced his way
through a narrow, stone-encumbered crevice, called on them to join him
in a lovely little valley, of three or four hundred yards across,
encompassed with precipitous, overhanging rocks, and inaccessible,
except by the narrow opening through which they had entered. It was
overgrown with tall grass, amongst which they saw the useful wild oats;
in one corner was a deep clear pool of water, while the surrounding
rocks were covered with brushwood, from which were heard the pleasing
notes of the beautiful pigeon, which the naturalists judged to be
_Geophaps Scripta_, and which all agreed was the most delicious bird
ever placed before gormandizing man.
There were numerous caves in these rocks, and they had only to choose
one dry and light for the sick woman, and then, enjoying the luxury of
many apartments, the young men selected their own bed-chambers, the
boats were safely stowed into one hollow, and the ammunition placed
carefully in another rocky cave; and once more the family rejoiced in a
temporary resting-place.
One of the caves was chosen for a kitchen, and again the active young
men dug, and lined with stones, an oven, in which Jenny baked cakes of
the fresh-gathered oats, a dozen pigeons were despatched, tea was made
for the invalid, and all was festivity and peace. Still, Ruth's wound,
which was torn by a jagged spear, showed no appearance of healing, and
it was resolved to spend some days in this beautiful and untrodden
solitude, to allow the poor girl to recover, and to recruit the strength
of all. But it was not possible to confine the active boys to the narrow
valley, and they daily found a pretext for some expedition. One day they
set out to search for the _Tea shrub_, and brought home a large quantity
of leaves. Another day they scaled some of the lower rocks, to obtain
gum from the numerous trees from which it exuded, and brought out all
the family to see a curious tree, the trunk of which, formed like a
barrel, was in the thickest part not less than thirty feet in
circumference.
"It is one of the _Sterculiads_," said Mr. Mayburn, "and is, I conclude,
that wonder of Australia popularly known as the Bottle Tree, or, more
scientifically, this peculiar species is named _Delabechea Rupestris_.
It appears to be full of gum, and is, doubtless, a great blessing to the
natives."
Baldabella seemed rejoiced to see the tree, which she declared was
"good, very good," chewing the branches with great enjoyment; and they
found there was so much mucilage in the wood, that they cut some
shavings, and poured boiling water over them, when a clear, sweet jelly
was formed, most agreeable to the palate, and highly relished by the
whole party.
The next expedition was suggested by Baldabella, who pointed to some
bees humming among the trees, and said, "Make very good dinner--very
good supper; Baldabella find his nest." Margaret taught the woman the
name, honey, which she concluded was the good dinner she alluded to.
Then the woman caught a bee, appearing to have no fear in handling it,
and catching a piece of white down which had fallen from the breast of
some bird, and was floating on the air, she touched it with gum, and
stuck it upon the captive bee; she now called on the rest to follow her,
and leaving the valley, she stood on an elevated rock, released the bee,
and kept her keen eye fixed on the white down as it sailed away,
following the flight of the insect, till she saw it settle in a tree.
Then she stopped, and pointing to the trunk, ordered Jack to cut it. His
axe was soon at work; the bark was stripped, and the hollow laid open:
they found the tree quite filled with honey, and cutting away a
considerable quantity, they carried it off on pieces of bark. The bees,
which were very small, either careless in the midst of plenty, or
powerless to injure, did not molest the robbers. The honey was much
mingled with wax, and looked and tasted like gingerbread; but, kneaded
with the bitter oat-paste, it rendered the biscuits pleasanter and more
palatable.
"We really seem to have all we want here, Miss Marget," said Jenny one
day. "Isn't it a pity to hurry t' poor master over these weary commons
and fells? We'se be sure to have winter at some end; and hadn't we
better bide here a bit till it's past?"
"It is really near the beginning of winter now, nurse," said Margaret;
"it is more than a year since we left England; for it is now the end of
April. I felt the air a little cold during last night, though now it is
mild and balmy; and the evergreen shrubs, continual successions of
flowers, noisy birds, and humming insects, make it more like an English
summer than the end of autumn. This is truly a charming climate."
"It's very nice, Miss Marget," answered Jenny; "but don't you think we
should be better of a change of meat? One tires of pigeons always."
"Very right, Jenny," said O'Brien; "though the observation is not new.
I'll tell you what we will do: we will stalk a kangaroo for you."
"No easy task, I should think, Gerald," said Arthur, "if the kangaroo be
as difficult to tire out as Wilkins tells us."
"He'll lead ye a bonnie chase," said Wilkins, "that will he. Ye'll tire
afore him. Ye'd better wait till Baldabella makes an end of that net
she's shaping to catch 'em. She's a long time about it."
"And we may wait another week," said Gerald, "to obtain the ignoble
means of snaring the poor fellow. No; I say, let us have a regular
stalking-day. Arthur, what do you say?"
"I cannot have Arthur leave us for a day," said Mr. Mayburn. "I should
not feel it safe for Margaret. I can rely on his judgment and
discretion."
A few days after this Jack was engaged in putting the canoes in repair,
and Wilkins had gone off to the river with Baldabella, to spear fish,
when the two boys entreated that they might be allowed to take spears
and bows--guns being prohibited, unless Arthur was of the party,--and
set out after a kangaroo; for the woods and grassy hollows among the
mountains abounded in game.
On the promise to Mr. Mayburn that they would not ramble far from home,
they were allowed to go; while Margaret was employed in teaching little
Nakinna to read, by tracing letters and words on the sand, and Mr.
Mayburn and Arthur were searching the crevices of the rocks for the rare
birds and the brilliant plants which, even at that late season, were to
be found in profusion.
In the middle of the day Baldabella and Wilkins returned with baskets
filled with large fish, and a bag of pods filled with small beans, which
they had plucked in a sandy nook near the river. Each pod contained ten
or twelve beans; and Baldabella's exclamations of delight showed they
were considered a prize.
"I fear," said Arthur, "that these beans are too dry at this season to
be useful as good vegetables, but I fancy we might roast them, and use
them as a substitute for coffee, to surprise our sportsmen when they
return from their expedition."
With great satisfaction, Jenny heated the oven and roasted the beans,
which were not larger than those of coffee, till they became the proper
deep-brown color. They were then bruised between two stones, and boiled
with a little honey, and the brown liquid wanted but milk to represent
indifferent coffee. The partakers of the beverage declared it to be
perfect; and Wilkins was sent back to the river to procure an abundant
supply, to be roasted for future occasions.
When the evening drew near, and the family, leaving their several
occupations, assembled together as usual, great anxiety filled every
breast, for the two hunters had not returned. They had taken no
provision with them; but this was a minor consideration, for no one
could starve in this region of plenty. Nor could the chase itself lead
them into danger; but there remained the ever-existing terror of the
treacherous and cunning natives, or still worse, of an encounter with
the lawless bush-rangers. The fears of Mr. Mayburn soon amounted to deep
distress, and at length Arthur and Wilkins set out to a high point of
the mountains, where they could command an extensive view, hoping to see
the wanderers. But before they reached the pinnacle, sudden darkness
veiled the prospect, and Arthur reluctantly adopted the only means he
could then use to recall the boys. He fired his rifle, and the echoes,
flung from mountain to mountain, thundered like a charge of artillery;
and it seemed impossible that this report should not reach the ears of
the thoughtless ramblers.
After waiting a few minutes, in the vain hope of hearing some answering
shout, Arthur and Wilkins retraced their steps to the caves, depressed
with the ill-success of their mission. Yet such was the deep distress of
the father, that his children endeavored to conceal their own sorrow,
that they might console him. He mourned as lost, not only his own brave
boy, but the not less dear son of his lamented friend; and long refused
to be comforted. Arthur represented to him that no more could be
effected till morning; but that the youths, when they had gone astray
would have probably taken refuge in one of the numerous caves in the
mountains, where they would be safe during the night; and he promised
that at the first gleam of light, he, Wilkins, and Jack, would set out
in different directions to search for them.
"And remember, dear papa," said Margaret, "this is, happily, not a
country of fierce beasts; they may enter a cave boldly, secure that they
shall not disturb a lion or a bear in his den. Nor need they fear the
snowstorm or the hurricane. This is a pleasant land! God seems to have
created it for the abode of peace. Is it not, then, fearful wickedness
that civilized man, the professed Christian should scatter the seeds of
evil rather than the seeds of truth among the simple inhabitants?"
"This is, truly, a calm and blessed region," answered Mr. Mayburn. "We
seem to have been Heaven-directed towards it; and if my two dear boys
were again safely at my side, I confess that I should feel reluctant to
leave it. In this vast and lovely solitude, where man has never before
planted his destroying foot, where neither storms nor wild beasts
appall, and where God himself provides our food, even as He fed the
Prophet in the wilderness, we seem to be brought face to face with Him.
Here we see and hear Him alone in His glorious works so richly scattered
around us. Such may have been Eden, before the sin of man polluted it.
In this sublime solitude, consecrated to devotion and peace, would I
willingly remain conversing with my God. Here would I,--
'Sustain'd and soothed
By an unfaltering trust, approach my grave,
Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch
About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.'"
"It is a charming vision," said Margaret. "But look round you, papa; the
fresh, the restless, the aspiring spirit of youth must be exercised and
disciplined by the duties and trials of life. We may not dare to rest,
dear father, till we have done our work."
"You are always rational, Margaret, and I am but a selfish visionary,"
answered Mr. Mayburn. "Even now my idle dreams have turned away my
thoughts from my heavy and real calamity--the loss of my children."
"Depend on't we'se find t' lads all right, master," said Wilkins; "and
they'll tell us what a good laugh they had when they heared that grand
salute we gave 'em amang these rattling hills."