The girls in sun-bonnets--I advise the blacks--Fatal excitement--Last
moments--The catastrophe--I cannot realise it--A fearful contrast--"Only
a withered flower"--Bruno's grief--Steering by the ant-hills--Avoiding
the forests--Myriads of rats--The flowing of the tide--Rats and the
native children--Clouds of locusts--Fish from the clouds.
The weeks gradually grew into months, and still we were apparently no
nearer civilisation than ever. Again and again we made expeditions to
see whether it were possible for the girls to reach Port Darwin overland;
but, unfortunately, I had painted for them in such vivid colours the
tortures of thirst which I had undergone on my journey towards Cape York,
that they were always afraid to leave what was now their home to go forth
unprovided into the unknown. Sometimes a fit of depression so acute
would come over them, that they would shut themselves up in their room
and not show themselves for a whole day.
We had a very plentiful supply of food, but one thing the girls missed
very much was milk,--which of course, was an unheard-of luxury in these
regions. We had a fairly good substitute, however, in a certain creamy
and bitter-tasting juice which we obtained from a palm-tree. This
"milk," when we got used to it, we found excellent when used with the
green corn. The corn-patch was carefully fenced in from kangaroos, and
otherwise taken care of; and I may here remark that I made forks and
plates of wood for my fair companions, and also built them a proper
elevated bed, with fragrant eucalyptus leaves and grass for bedding. For
the cold nights there was a covering of skin rugs, with an overall quilt
made from the wild flax.
The girls made themselves sun-bonnets out of palm-leaves; while their
most fashionable costume was composed of the skins of birds and
marsupials, cunningly stitched together by Yamba. During the cold winter
months of July and August we camped at a more sheltered spot, a little to
the north, where there was a range of mountains, whose principal peak was
shaped like a sugar-loaf.
I frequently accompanied the warriors on their fighting expeditions, but
did not use my stilts, mainly because we never again met so powerful an
enemy as we had battled with on that memorable occasion. My people were
often victorious, but once or twice we got beaten by reason of the other
side having drawn first blood. My natives took their reverses with a
very good grace, and were never very depressed or inclined to view me
with less favour because of their want of success. We were always the
best of friends, and I even ventured gradually to wean them from
cannibalism.
I knew they ate human flesh, not because they felt hungry, but because
they hoped to acquire the additional valour of the warrior they were
eating. I therefore diplomatically pointed out to them that, in the
first place, all kinds of dreadful diseases which the dead man might have
had would certainly be communicated to them, and in this I was
providentially borne out by a strange epidemic. The second consideration
I mentioned was that by making anklets, bracelets, and other ornaments
out of the dead braves' hair, they could acquire for themselves in a much
more efficacious manner the valour and other estimable qualities of the
departed warrior.
Whilst I was on this subject I also advised them strongly and
impressively never wantonly to attack white men, but rather to make
friendly advances towards them. I often wonder now whether explorers who
follow in my track will notice the absence of cannibalism and the
friendly overtures of the natives.
Two half painful, half merry years, passed by. We had seen several ships
passing out at sea, and on more than one occasion Yamba and I, taught by
previous lessons, had jumped into our canoe and pulled for many miles in
the direction of the sail, leaving the girls watching us eagerly from the
shore. But it was always useless, and we were compelled to return
without having accomplished our purpose; we merely inflicted additional
pain on ourselves.
I now come to what is possibly the most painful episode of my career, and
one which I find it impossible to discuss, or write about, without very
real pain. Even at this distance of time I cannot recall that tragic day
without bitter tears coming into my eyes, and being afflicted with a
gnawing remorse which can never completely die in my heart. Do not, I
beg of you, in considering my actions, ask me why I did not do this, or
that, or the other. In terrible crises I believe we become almost
mechanical, and are not responsible for what we do. I have often thought
that, apart from our own volition, each set of nerves and fibres in our
being has a will of its own.
Well, one gloriously fine day we sighted a ship going very slowly across
the gulf, several miles away. Would to God we had never seen her! We
were thrown, as usual, into a perfect frenzy of wild excitement, and the
girls dashed here and there like people possessed. Of course, I
determined to intercept the vessel if possible, and the girls at once
expressed their intention of coming with me. I attempted earnestly to
dissuade them from this, but they wept pitifully and implored me to let
them come. They were filled with an ungovernable longing to get away--the
same longing, perhaps, that animates a caged bird who, although well fed
and kindly treated, soars away without a moment's hesitation when an
opportunity occurs. Quite against my better judgment, I let them come.
Every second was precious and every argument futile. While Yamba was
getting ready the canoe I rushed from one group of natives to the other,
coaxing, promising, imploring. I pointed out to them that they could
propel their catamarans faster than I could paddle my canoe; and I
promised them that if I reached the ship I would send them presents from
the white man's land of tomahawks and knives; gaily coloured cloths and
gorgeous jewellery. But they were only too ready to help me without any
of these inducements; and in an incredibly short time at least twenty
catamarans, each containing one or two men, put off from the shore in my
wake and made directly towards the ship, whilst I struck off at a tangent
so as to head her off. I now see that without doubt we must have
presented a very formidable appearance to the people on the vessel as we
paddled over the sunlit seas, racing one another, yelling, and
gesticulating like madmen. Of course, the people on board quite
naturally thought they were being attacked by a savage flotilla. But in
the excitement of the moment I never gave this a thought. Had I only
left my faithful natives behind all might have been well. Yamba and I
kept the canoe well ahead, and we reached the neighbourhood of the ship
first.
As we approached, the excitement of the girls was painful to witness.
They could scarcely contain themselves for joy; and as I forcibly
prevented them from standing up in the frail canoe, they contented
themselves with frantically waving their hands and screaming themselves
hoarse.
Nearing the vessel I was surprised to see the top-sail being hoisted,
but, strange to say, the crew kept well out of sight. This was easy to
do, considering the spread of canvas. She was not a Malay vessel, being
decidedly of European rig. She was only a small craft, of perhaps ten or
fifteen tons, with one mast carrying a main-sail and stay-sail, in
addition to the top-sail that had been hoisted as we approached. To us,
however, she was a "ship." We were now about one hundred and fifty yards
away, and I suddenly leapt to my feet and coo-eed several times. Still
no one showed himself, and not a soul was visible on board. My own
joyful excitement speedily turned to heart-sickness, alarm, and even
terror. By this time the flotilla of catamarans was close behind me; and
just as I was about to sit down and take to my paddle again, so as to
advance still closer to the vessel, the loud report of a gun was heard;
and then--well, what followed next is exceedingly difficult for me to
describe accurately. Whether I was wounded by the shot, or whether the
girls suddenly stood up, causing me to lose my balance and fall on the
side of the canoe and cut my thigh, I do not know.
At any rate, I crashed heavily overboard in spite of Yamba's desperate
attempt to save me. The next moment I had forgotten all about the ship,
and was only conscious of Yamba swimming close by my side, and
occasionally gripping my long hair when she thought I was going under. We
righted the canoe and climbed in as quickly as we could. I think I was
dazed and incapable of any coherent thought. As I collapsed in the
bottom of the canoe, I suddenly realised that Yamba and I were alone; and
sitting up, I gasped, "The girls, the girls! Where are they? Oh, where
are they? We must save them!"
Alas! they had sunk beneath the smiling waves, and they never rose again.
True, they were expert swimmers, but I suppose the terrible excitement,
followed by the sudden shock, was too much for them, and as they sank for
the first time they probably clung to each other in the embrace of death.
God knows best. Perhaps it was better that He should take my loved ones
from me than that they should be dragged through the terrible years that
followed.
But for a long time I utterly refused to believe that my darlings were
lost--they were truly as sisters to me; and Yamba and I and the natives
dived for them time after time, searching the sea in every direction. But
at length, seeing that I was exhausted, Yamba forcibly detained me, and
told me that I myself would inevitably drown if I went into the water
again. The wound in my thigh (I am uncertain to this day whether it was
the result of the gun-shot or mere collision with the rough gunwale of
the canoe) was bleeding freely; and as it was also pointed out to me that
there was a very strong and swift current at this spot, I allowed myself
to be taken away without any further opposition.
I simply _could_ not realise my bereavement. It seemed too terrible and
stunning to think, that when God had provided me with these two charming
companions, who were all in all to me every moment of my existence, as a
consolation for the horrors I had gone through--it seemed impossible, I
say, that they should be snatched from me just at the very moment when
salvation seemed within our reach. Every detail of the incident passed
before my mental vision, but I could not grasp it--I could not seem to
think it real. I can never explain it. These poor girls were more to me
than loving sisters. They turned the black night of my desolate
existence into sunshine, and they were perpetually devising some sweet
little surprise--some little thing which would please me and add
additional brightness to our daily lives. This dreadful thing happened
many years ago, but to this day, and to the day of my death, I feel sure
I shall suffer agonies of grief and remorse (I blame myself for not
having forbidden them to go in the canoe) for this terrible catastrophe.
After we returned to the land, I haunted the sea-shore for hours, hoping
to see the bodies rise to the surface; but I watched in vain. When at
length the full magnitude of the disaster dawned upon me, despair--the
utter abandonment of despair--filled my soul for the first time. Never
again would my sweet companions cheer my solitary moments. Never again
would I see their loved forms, or hear their low, musical voices. Never
again would we play together like children on the sand. Never again
would we build aerial castles about the bright and happy future that was
in store for us, looking back from the bourne of civilisation on our
fantastic adventures. Never again should we compare our lot with that of
Robinson Crusoe or the Swiss Family Robinson.
My bright dream had passed away, and with a sudden revulsion of feeling I
realised that the people around me were repulsive cannibals, among whom I
was apparently doomed to pass the remainder of my hideous days--a fate
infinitely more terrible than that of joining my darlings beneath the
restless waves, that beat for ever on that lonely shore. I was a long
time before I could even bring myself to be thankful for Yamba's escape,
which was no doubt dreadfully ungrateful of me. I can only ask your pity
and sympathy in my terrible affliction. What made my sorrow and remorse
the more poignant, was the reflection that if I had retained one atom of
my self-possession I would never have dreamed of approaching the little
European vessel at the head of a whole flotilla of catamarans, filled
with yelling and gesticulating savages. As to the people on board the
vessel, I exonerated them then, and I exonerate them now, from all blame.
Had you or I been on board, we should probably have done exactly the same
thing under the circumstances.
Clearly the only reasonable plan of action was to have gone alone; but
then, at critical times, even the wisest among us is apt to lose his
head. God knows I paid dearly enough for my lack of judgment on this
melancholy occasion.
My wound was not at all serious, and, thanks to Yamba's care, it quickly
healed, and I was able to get about once more.
But I ought to tell you that when we returned I could not bear to go into
our hut, where every little bunch of withered flowers, every garment of
skin, and every implement, proclaimed aloud the stunning loss I had
sustained. No, I went back direct to the camp of the natives, and
remained among them until the moment came for my departure. I think it
was in the soft, still nights that I felt it most. I wept till I was as
weak as a baby. Oh the torments of remorse I endured--the fierce
resentment against an all-wise Providence! "Alone! alone! alone!" I
would shriek in an agony of wretchedness; "Gone! gone! gone! Oh, come
back to me, come back to me, I cannot live here now."
And I soon realised that it was impossible for me to remain there any
longer. There was much weeping and lamentation among the native women,
but I guessed it was not so much on account of the poor girls, as out of
sympathy for the loss the great white chief had sustained. I think Yamba
went among them, and pointed out the magnitude of the disaster; otherwise
they would have failed to grasp it. What was the loss of a woman or two
to them? I felt, I say, that I could not settle down in my hut again,
and I was consumed with an intense longing to go away into the wilderness
and there hide my grief. In making an attempt to reach civilisation, I
thought this time of going due south, so that perhaps I might ultimately
reach Sydney, or Melbourne, or Adelaide. I argued thus casually to
myself, little dreaming of the vast distances--mountain ranges and
waterless deserts--that separated me from these great cities. For all I
knew, I might have come upon them in a few weeks! All I was certain of
was that they lay somewhere to the south. Time was no object to me, and
I might as well be walking in the direction of civilisation as remaining
in idle misery in my bay home, brooding over the disaster that had
clouded my life and made it infinitely more intolerable than it was
before the girls came.
Yamba instantly agreed to accompany me, and a few weeks after the loss of
the girls we started out once more on our wanderings, accompanied by my
ever faithful dog.
Bruno also missed his young mistresses. He would moan and cry pitifully,
and run aimlessly up and down the beach looking out to sea. Ah! had I
only taken Bruno on that fatal day, he would not have let my dear ones
drown!
As I have said, I remained only a few weeks in my bay home, and then
departed. The blacks, too, left the spot, for they never stay where the
shadow of death lies, fearing the unpleasant attentions of the spirits of
the deceased. The parting between me and my people was a most affecting
one, the women fairly howling in lamentations, which could be heard a
great distance away. They had shown such genuine sympathy with me in my
misfortune that our friendship had very materially increased; but in
spite of this good feeling, I knew I could never be happy among them
again.
So we started off into the unknown, with no more provision or equipment
than if we were going for a stroll of a mile or so. Yamba carried her
yam-stick and basket, and I had my usual weapons--tomahawk and stiletto
in my belt, and bow and arrows in my hand. I never dreamed when we
started that to strike due south would take us into the unexplored heart
of the continent. Day after day, however, we walked steadily on our
course, steering in a very curious manner. We were guided by the ant-
hills, which are always built facing the east, whilst the top inclines
towards the north; and we knew that the scratches made on trees by the
opossums were invariably on the north side.
We often steered by the habits of insects, wasps' nests, and other
curious auguries, fixing our position at night by the stars and in the
daytime by our own shadows. Yamba always went in front and I followed.
The bush teemed with fruits and roots. After leaving our own camp in the
Cambridge Gulf region we struck a fine elevated land, excellently well
watered; and later on we followed the Victoria River in a south-easterly
direction through part of the Northern Territories of South Australia. We
at length struck a peculiar country covered with coarse grass ten feet or
twelve feet high--not unlike the sugar-cane which I afterwards saw, but
much more dense.
It was, of course, impossible for us to pursue our course due south,
owing to the forests and ranges which we encountered; we had, as a matter
of fact, to follow native and kangaroo tracks wherever they took us--east,
west, and even north occasionally, generally to water-holes. The
progress of the natives is simply from one water supply to another. But
as far as possible we pursued our way south. You will understand that
this kind of travelling was very different from that which we experienced
on the Victoria River--which, by the way, traversed a very fine country.
As we ascended it we passed many isolated hills of perhaps a few hundred
feet, and nowhere did I see any scrub or spinifex.
After leaving the Victoria we came upon a more elevated plateau covered
with rather fine but short grass; the trees were scarcer here, but finer
and bigger. There was plenty of water in the native wells and in the
hollows, although we frequently had to remove a few stones to get at it.
There were plenty of kangaroos and emus about, as well as turkeys; these
latter provided us with an unwonted dish, to say nothing of their
delicious eggs.
Another reason for our coming round out of our course when we came to
forests was because but little food was found in them. Kangaroos and
other animals were seldom or never found there: they abounded usually in
the more scrubby country. Our progress was very leisurely, and, as we
met tribe after tribe, we ingratiated ourselves with them and camped at
their wells. Occasionally we came upon curious rivers and lagoons that
ran into the earth and disappeared in the most mysterious way, only to
reappear some distance farther on. Of course, I may be mistaken in this,
but such at any rate was my impression.
One day as we were marching steadily along, Yamba startled me by calling
out excitedly, "Up a tree,--quick! Up a tree!" And so saying she
scampered up the nearest tree herself. Now, by this time I had become so
accustomed to acting upon her advice unquestioningly, that without
waiting to hear any more I made a dash for the nearest likely tree and
climbed into it as fast as I could. Had she called out to me, "Leap into
the river," I should have done so without asking a question. When I was
safely in the branches, however, I called out to her (her tree was only a
few yards away), "What is the matter?" She did not reply, but pointed to
a vast stretch of undulating country over which we had just come; it was
fairly well wooded. It lingers in my mind as a region in which one was
able to see a fairly long way in every direction--a very unusual feature
in the land of "Never Never"!
I looked, but at first could see nothing. Presently, however, it seemed
to me that the whole country in the far distance was covered with a black
mantle, _which appeared to be made up of living creatures_.
Steadily and rapidly this great mysterious wave swept along towards us;
and seeing that I was both puzzled and alarmed, Yamba gave me to
understand that _we should presently be surrounded by myriads of rats_,
stretching away in every direction like a living sea. The phenomenon was
evidently known to Yamba, and she went on to explain that these creatures
were migrating from the lowlands to the mountains, knowing by instinct
that the season of the great floods was at hand. That weird and
extraordinary sight will live in my memory for ever. I question whether
a spectacle so fantastic and awe-inspiring was ever dealt with, even in
the pages of quasi-scientific fiction. It was impossible for me to
observe in what order the rats were advancing, on account of the great
stretch of country which they covered. Soon, however, their shrill
squeals were distinctly heard, and a few minutes later the edge of that
strange tide struck our tree and swept past us with a force impossible to
realise. No living thing was spared. Snakes, lizards--ay, even the
biggest kangaroos--succumbed after an ineffectual struggle. The rats
actually ate those of their fellows who seemed to hesitate or stumble.
The curious thing was that the great army never seemed to stand still. It
appeared to me that each rat simply took a bite at whatever prey came his
way, and then passed on with the rest.
I am unable to say how long the rats were in passing--it might have been
an hour. Yamba told me that there would have been no help for us had we
been overtaken on foot by these migratory rodents. It is my opinion that
no creature in Nature, from the elephant downwards, could have lived in
that sea of rats. I could not see the ground between them, so closely
were they packed. The only creatures that escaped them were birds. The
incessant squealing and the patter of their little feet made an
extraordinary sound, comparable only to the sighing of the wind or the
beat of a great rain-storm. I ought to mention, though, that I was
unable accurately to determine the sound made by the advancing rats owing
to my partial deafness, which you will remember was caused by the great
wave which dashed me on to the deck of the _Veielland_, just before
landing on the sand-spit in the Sea of Timor. I often found this
deafness a very serious drawback, especially when hunting. I was
sometimes at a loss to hear the "coo-ee" or call of my natives. Fortunate
men! _they_ did not even understand what deafness meant. Lunacy also was
unknown among them, and such a thing as suicide no native can possibly
grasp or understand. In all my wanderings I only met one idiot or
demented person. He had been struck by a falling tree, and was
worshipped as a demi-god!
When the rats had passed by, we watched them enter a large creek and swim
across, after which they disappeared in the direction of some ranges
which were not very far away. They never seemed to break their ranks;
even when swimming, one beheld the same level brownish mass on the
surface of the water. Yamba told me that this migration of rats was not
at all uncommon, but that the creatures rarely moved about in such vast
armies as the one that had just passed.
I also learned that isolated parties of migrating rats were responsible
for the horrible deaths of many native children, who had, perhaps, been
left behind in camp by their parents, who had gone in search of water.
Up to this time we had always found food plentiful. On our southward
journey a particularly pleasant and convenient article of diet turned up
(or fell down) in the form of the _maru_, as it is called, which collects
on the leaves of trees during the night. Both in its appearance and
manner of coming, this curious substance may be likened to the manna that
fell in the wilderness for the benefit of the Israelites. This _maru_ is
a whitish substance, not unlike raw cotton in appearance. The natives
make bread of it; it is rather tasteless, but is very nutritious, and
only obtained at certain times--for example, it never falls at the time
of full moon, and is peculiar to certain districts.
During this great southward journey many strange things happened, and we
saw a host of curious sights. I only wish I could trust my memory to
place these in their proper chronological order.
We had several visitations of locusts; and on one occasion, some months
after leaving home, they settled upon the country around us so thickly as
actually to make a living bridge across a large creek. On several
occasions I have had to dig through a living crust of these insects, six
or eight inches thick, in order to reach water at a water-hole. These
locusts are of a yellowish-brown colour (many are grey), and they range
in length from two to four inches.
As they rise in the air they make a strange cracking, snapping sound; and
they were often present in such myriads as actually to hide the face of
the sun. I found them excellent eating when grilled on red-hot stones.
Yamba, of course, did all the cooking, making a fire with her ever-ready
fire-stick, which no native woman is ever without; and while she looked
after the supply of roots and opossum meat, I generally provided the
snakes, emus, and kangaroos. Our shelter at night consisted merely of a
small _gunyah_ made of boughs, and we left the fire burning in front of
this when we turned in.
When we had been fully three months out, a very extraordinary thing
happened, which to many people would be incredible were it not recognised
as a well-known Australian phenomenon. We had reached a very dry and
open grass country, where there was not a tree to be seen for miles and
miles. Suddenly, as Yamba and I were squatting on the ground enjoying a
meal, we saw a strange black cloud looming on the horizon, and hailed its
advent with the very greatest delight, inasmuch as it presaged rain--which
is always so vitally important a visitation in the "Never Never." We
waited in anticipation until the cloud was right over our heads. Then
the deluge commenced, and to my unbounded amazement I found that with the
rain _live fish as big as whitebait were falling from the clouds_! When
this wonderful rain-storm had passed, large pools of water were left on
the surface of the ground, and most of these were fairly alive with fish.
This surface-water, however, evaporated in the course of a few days, and
then, as the blazing sun beat down upon the fish-covered country, we
found the region growing quite intolerable on account of the awful
stench.
Talking of storms, I have seen it stated that the Australian natives are
in a state of high glee whenever they hear thunder. This is perfectly
true, but I have never seen any explanation of this joy. It is simple
enough. The natives know that thunder presages rain, which is always a
blessing of great price in that thirsty country.
I think this was the first time I had actually _seen_ it rain fish. But
I had often been surprised, to find water-holes, and even the pools in
grassy plains, literally alive with fish a few days after a storm. And
they grew with astounding rapidity, provided the water did not evaporate.
This was in the vicinity of my Cambridge Gulf home.
We remained in the neighbourhood for some time, living on a most welcome
fish diet. Very frequently in our wanderings we were provided with
another dainty in the shape of a worm, which, when broiled over charcoal,
had the flavour of a walnut.
These worms we found in the grass trees, which grow to a height of ten to
twenty feet, and have bare trunks surmounted by what looks at a distance
like a big bunch of drooping bulrushes. The worms were of a whitish
colour, and were always found in the interior of a well-matured or
decaying stem; so that all we had to do was to push the tree over with
our feet and help ourselves.
In the course of our wanderings we usually went from tribe to tribe,
staying a little time with some, and with others merely exchanging
greetings. With some tribes we would perhaps travel a little way south,
and only part with them when they were about to strike northwards; and as
their course was simply from water-hole to water-hole, as I have told
you, it was always pretty erratic.