THE ISLAND GHOST.--NARROW ESCAPE OF MR. BROWN.
I would sooner have faced the most savage gang of bushrangers in
Australia than that fearful sound, yet I was so anxious to save my
friend that, frightened as I really was, I did not run, or even make a
motion to that effect. The drowning man, with face upturned, and eyes
that watched my every motion, at length heard the dull, heavy blows of
the pick, and he seemed to comprehend that they were intended as
warnings of his end. He no longer struggled like a brave man wrestling
with death, but seemed to grow more calm as the slime and mud closed
around him, and his body settled.
"How can I save you?" I asked; "I cannot think that we are to part so
suddenly; I would give all my wealth for a rope six feet long."
"If you had one of the horses' bridles here," suggested Mr. Brown, but
before I could start to get one, he continued, "don't leave me, for I
should be smothered before you could get back; see, the water is up even
with my chin."
I had noticed the same thing before he alluded to it, and I dreaded to
remain and hear his last struggles for breath.
"I have a mother somewhere on the coast of England; the last that I
heard of her she was at Falmouth. Will you write and collect what money
I have saved, and send it to her? I know that you will, and a dying man
thanks you."
While the poor fellow was speaking, a thought entered my head that he
might yet be saved, but there was no time to lose if I intended to put
into operation my plan for his relief. I hastily tore off my belt which
I wore around my waist, and which contained my revolver and knife, and
then stripped off my trousers, (the ladies will please not to
blush--there was no habitation within three miles of us,) made of stout
woollen cloth, which I had bought in Melbourne for the purpose of riding
through the brush on horseback.
In an instant my friend appeared to comprehend my plan; he raised his
right hand from the mud and reached towards me as far as possible, and
then, with a struggle to keep his head above the water,
murmured--"Quick, for God's sake, quick!"
"Keep up your courage," I shouted, throwing one leg of the garment
towards him, while I retained the other.
To my great joy I saw that he grasped it in his right hand, and exerted
all his strength to extricate himself from his perilous condition. Had I
not have been prepared for his struggles, and braced my feet firmly, I
should have been dragged into the bog.
"Gently!" I cried, fearful that my friend, in his exertions, would rend
the cloth.
My words were thrown away, however, for when did a man, struggling for
life, ever listen to reason? For a few seconds the suction was so great
that I could only prevent him from sinking lower, and keep his head
above the mud, until at length I recommended him to endeavor to work his
legs loose, so that he could rest upon his stomach, as though he was
attempting to swim.
Brown followed my advice, and when he saw that there was a certain
prospect of being saved he grew quite calm, and soon I had the
satisfaction of reaching out my hand, grasping one of his own, and
dragging him upon the peninsula, a little the worse for his contact with
the bog, but cheerful, and disposed to regard his adventure in the light
of a joke.
"My dear friend," he exclaimed, clasping my hand, and I thought he was
about to pour forth a profusion of thanks for my services, "let me
advise you to put your trousers on as soon as possible, for these
blasted mosquitoes will devour you alive."
I think that his recommendation was the best evidence of his attachment
that I could possibly have desired, for I had been so inwrapt with the
business before me that I had not heeded the cloud of ferocious insects
hovering around my naked extremities, filling their bodies with my life
blood, and causing me to almost desire a bath in the bog, for the
purpose of getting rid of my tormentors.
I hurried on my clothes without loss of time, and then desired to know
in what manner I could help him.
"Let me get away from this place first, and then secure a wash, and a
change of clothing, for I feel as though I had been fished out of a
molasses hogshead," Mr. Brown said, scraping the mud from his shirt and
pants, and even taking it from his pockets by handfuls.
"What made you run in the manner that you did?" he asked, as I assisted
him to rise.
"I but followed your example, and I begin to think that I followed a
very poor one," I replied.
"I am of the same opinion, for I don't believe that we saw any thing
excepting a ram anxious for a hunting match. Let us return."
As my friend ceased speaking we glanced at the island, and that one look
was sufficient to start us towards the main land in double quick time,
for, standing at the end of the peninsula, with one arm raised in a
threatening manner, as though warning us against a renewed attempt for
the treasure, was the white figure which had first frightened us.
"That is Buckerly's ghost," gasped Mr. Brown, as we gained the palm
trees under which the horses were hitched; "I know it is his spirit,
from the many descriptions which I have heard concerning it."
"What do you propose to do?" I asked, beginning, now that I was some
distance from the object of my terror, to entertain serious doubts in
relation to the spirituality of the visitant.
"Do?" repeated Mr. Brown, "what can we do against a ghost?"
"We can at least find out what claims it has upon the treasure, and
whether it requires a fair dividend in case we are successful. Come,
change your clothes, and let us return and question this wonderful
visitant."
"Would you dare to speak first?" demanded Mr. Brown, in astonishment.
"Don't you know, or have you not read, that the person who holds
conversation with a ghost dies within a week?"
"A week is better than a day, so we can have time to think of our sins
and get prepared for the event. Come, let us return like men and face
this white object, and see what kind of stuff it is made of."
While I was urging Mr. Brown I did not have the faintest idea that he
would accede to my request. In fact, I rather hoped that he would not,
for, in spite of my expressed doubts in relation to the ghost, I was
more than half inclined to believe that there was something supernatural
about it. A desire to make my companion think that I was more reckless
than himself prompted me to attempt to combat his fears.
While I was talking, Mr. Brown was changing his clothes, and getting a
portion of the mud from his person by means of the contents of the
water-keg, and when he had succeeded I think that his courage revived,
for he asked me for the loan of my flask; and when I handed it to him,
he lowered its contents materially, and then declared that he felt
better than when he was up to his neck in mud.
"You say that you are anxious to return and have an interview with the
old fellow with horns on his head?" Mr. Brown asked, and I observed a
wonderful change in his bearing all at once, which I could only
attribute to putting on clean clothes, or due to the magical influence
of my flask. I was inclined to the latter opinion, and therefore tasted
the liquor for the purpose of seeing if I could not get a little Dutch
courage.
"The fact of it is," my friend continued, "I am inclined to think that
we have been frightened at a shadow, and therefore I am in favor of
returning to the island without delay. No blasted ghost is to keep me
from the treasure which was bequeathed to me in due form by its owner,
and for which I paid him in candles, six to a pound. How does the liquor
hold out?"
I shook the flask, and found that almost half a pint remained.
"I think that a quantity of salt mud got in my mouth, for I have a bad
taste which nothing but brandy can remove. Let me have another spoonful,
and then we will start with courage enough to face the devil.
"A man," my companion exclaimed, throwing back his head and looking full
at the moon, "should never depend upon liquor for courage, for in the
moment of danger he wants all his self-possession. I only make the
remark," he continued, as he handed me back the empty flask, "to warn
you against drinking any thing of an intoxicating nature upon the eve of
an important expedition."
"Your advice is good," I remarked, "and to help me carry it out you have
drained the flask of its last drop. The next time we go on an
expedition, I wish that you would practise what you preach."
"This is an ungrateful world," Mr. Brown remarked, as he rose from the
saddle upon which he had been seated, and steadied himself by holding on
my shoulder. "I have drank your liquor merely out of friendship, and now
I am reproached for my kindness; I didn't expect it."
"I didn't expect that you would help yourself so liberally," I replied,
laughing at his quiet humor. "But come along, if you intend to reach the
island before day, for it's said that ghosts don't walk during
daylight."
"Look first to your revolver, for mine is in a deplorable condition, and
wouldn't go if I should carry it. The barrel is filled with mud, and the
chambers with salt."
"Remember, there is to be no running away this time," I said, as I
replaced my revolver in my belt, having found it in good order and
condition. I almost wished, as I spoke, that Brown would decline going,
and find some valid excuse for declining. But there was no hope for
that. He had drank too much, and was as full of pluck as an Irishman on
a Fair day.
"No fear of me, my boy," he cried, as we started towards the peninsula,
walking rather slow, however. "I am determined to see what kind of a
devil is on the island, even if I tumble into the bog again. You are
sure," he continued, "that the liquor is exhausted?"
"Every drop."
"I am sorry for that, 'cos it is good to keep the stomach in order, when
mixed with a little river water. Although, to save trouble, I like it,
as a general thing, with as little of the latter as possible, for fear
of disorders and snakes."
We were within five rods of the bridge, when we suddenly stopped, as
though by mutual consent, and looked at each other for a few moments in
silence.
"Well?" said my companion.
"Well," I answered.
"Are you going to the island or not?" demanded Mr. Brown.
"That is for you to say," I replied.
"The liquor is all gone?"
"Every drop," I answered.
"I think," said Mr. Brown, after a short pause, "that I would give a
month's pay, including bribes, if I had a gallon of good whiskey by my
side. A man who intends to combat the devil and his imps should have
something besides powder and ball to fling at their heads."
"If you had the liquor," I replied, "neither of us would be in a
condition, after a few drinks, to throw any thing at your ghosts. I know
of one man who would throw himself upon the ground and sleep until
morning, and let Bill Swinton and money go to the devil, where they
belong."
"Pass on," whispered Mr. Brown, making way for me to proceed, the bridge
being too narrow for both of us to walk abreast.
"Excuse me," I replied, "I think that I should follow on behind to
prevent you from running away; or in case you again tumble into the bog,
to lend a ready hand. You go first."
My friend hesitated for a moment, glanced eagerly towards the island,
and seeing nothing objectionable, stepped foot upon the bridge and
commenced the perilous journey.
I followed close at his heels, and when we reached the spot which was
the scene of his experience in the bog, the slime and water had filled
up the hole which his body made, and all looked hard and treacherous as
ever. Mr. Brown pointed to the spot with his hand as he passed, but he
neither turned nor made remark, although I thought I saw his form
tremble at the recollection of his danger.
We were not more than two minutes in reaching the end of the bridge, and
then we again paused to reconnoitre. Nothing to alarm us was to be seen,
and we again ventured forward, this time with more confidence than we
had felt since we had started.
"Your ghost has fled," I said, in a half whisper.
At that instant, as though to disprove my words, we heard a sharp, quick
blow, that sounded like an iron shovel struck upon stones. We uttered no
word, or made the least noise, but we turned our looks upon the largest
portion of the island with wonderful quickness, and, as though of one
mind, we attempted to reach the bridge by a precipitate flight. Our
intentions, however, were balked by our own eagerness, for just as I was
about striking out my legs got mixed up with my companion's, and down we
both went, full length, upon the ground. We scrambled to gain our feet,
and I think that I arose first; but I had not recovered myself before I
was seized by Mr. Brown in his frantic attempts to arise, and once more
fell, and this time directly upon him, and over we rolled together until
we were brought up by a large rock, which prevented us from going any
farther.
"I think that we are two of the biggest fools in Australia," Mr. Brown
said, sitting up and listening attentively.
I readily agreed with him, and determined to be no longer frightened by
sight or sound. With this idea, and after a mutual vow to stand by each
other, we crept along upon our hands and knees until we could command a
view of the spot where we had dug for the treasure. While we were
considering whether we should go forward or remain on the watch, the
huge form which had so frightened us slowly arose, as though from a
grave of its own digging, and, to our horror, we could see the white
bones and long horns pointing towards us, while an unearthly groan
relieved the monotony of the appearance.
With a trembling hand I drew my revolver, and, in defiance of Mr.
Brown's whispered remonstrance, I took as good aim as I was capable of
taking under the circumstances, and fired.
I heard a crashing of dry bones, and I saw the hideous head fall to the
ground; at the same moment a gruff voice shouted, in angry tones,--
"What in the bloody h----l is you 'bout, hey?"