The Finding of Fortunate Spring
For several days after leaving the scene of Bob's adventure the
travellers struggled over a most disheartening tract of country. The
timber belt amid which they had discovered water proved to be but a
narrow strip, extending down from the north-west; it evidently marked
the course of an ancient river-bed, for immediately beyond its scope the
sullen desert appeared bare of all vegetation, save for occasional
clumps of saltbush and tufts of spinifex grass. Over this barren waste
they forced their dogged course, starting at sunrise and halting towards
noon, when the heat became too terribly oppressive both for man and
beast; then in the evening they would continue the journey, sometimes
marching late into the night. It was well for them that water had been
found so opportunely, for assuredly none promised in the arid sands they
were now encountering. The fifth day, however, brought with it the hope
of better things. Away to the east the landscape took on a much more
broken aspect, a feature which gradually extended right across the line
of travel. Great dry gullies, starting from apparent nothingness, tore
up the plain in all directions, and giant boulders of desert sandstone
outcropped in prodigal profusion. And this drastic change in the land
surface cheered the wanderers mightily, for though in itself it offered
greater obstacles to progress than the weary sand-flats, it relieved the
eyes, which had become so weary of gazing at the seemingly everlasting
monotonous desert, and uplifted their hearts strangely.
Another day, and several mouldering ridges surrounded them; mere
hillocks of sand they were, yet, rising as they did abruptly from an
even expanse, they appeared in the distance as precipitous mountain
steeps, and it was hard to believe that their grandeur would fade away
at a closer view. Within these guarding barriers, a beautiful white
tableland lay spread, so white and pure that it glittered like marble in
the sun's rays. The sight was a dazzlingly splendid one, and Jack, who
had been the first to climb the gentle elevation hiding the valley from
the south, had exclaimed in delight--
"What a huge lake we are coming to; it looks like a great frosted
Christmas card!"
"Lake!" Mackay had answered, almost sorrowfully. "Ay, it's a lake that
will give us a maist desperate thirst, instead o' quenching what we've
got."
And soon the truth of this remark was borne painfully on them all, for
the lake was a mass of crusted and crystallized salt, that crushed like
tinder beneath their feet and showered over the heads of the voyagers in
sparkling clouds of finest dust. It filled their ears and eyes and
nostrils; they inhaled the minute grains with every breath; it covered
their tattered clothing in a gauzy film of white.
"Well, I'm blest!" ejaculated Emu Bill, "if this ain't the cruellest
joke to play on a thirsty sinner, an' nary a drink within hundreds o'
miles!"
"Shut up, Bill, an' ye won't swallow so much of it," retorted Never
Never Dave, unsympathetically. Then he was moved to further speech.
"Bless yer soul! It's a whole brewery we'll want afore we gets through
this, I'm thinking."
"I had an idea," observed Mackay, blandly, "that you two had joined the
temperance party a week or so before we left, so as to get accustomed to
a bit o' a drought."
"Temperance party!" stormed the unusually loquacious Never Never, "I
reckon this here circus would break up any anti-thirst campaign in
less'n five minutes."
He would have continued, but his companion sternly rebuked him by
casting at him the words with which he had himself been silenced. After
that not a word was spoken for fully ten minutes, and the camel team
staggered blindly on, floundering through intervening salt wreaths like
ships in a heavy sea. The lake appeared to be nearly six miles in
length, which meant that at least two hours would be spent in the
crossing, for their rate of travel seldom exceeded three miles an hour,
and was more often considerably less. In that time, if each man
satisfied his craving for water from their very limited store, there
would be but little left, and by Bob's calculations they were yet about
thirty miles from the location of Fortunate Spring. But though each of
the little party suffered severely, not one of them made other than
jocular mention of his longing, and Mackay felt proud of the fortitude
and reserve they displayed. He was especially concerned for Bob and
Jack, for they, not having been hardened to such experiences, must have
felt the influence of their salt bath most keenly; but if they were in
any way incommoded they showed no sign. Bob walked by Mackay's side,
talking at intervals concerning the probable geological history of
interior Australia--a subject of endless interest to him. Jack and the
Shadow strode at Misery's head, for now Fireworks needed no guiding hand
at his nose-rope, but followed submissively in the rear of Repentance,
and from snatches of their conversation, which floated to Mackay's ears,
he gathered that Jack was giving his Australian comrade a description of
the snows and frosts of the old country as a set-off to the blazing heat
they were now experiencing.
"Yes, I reckon I'll go home with you," the Shadow was saying. "It must
be a grand country, wi' no snakes nor centipedes nor other crawlers, an'
nary muskittie to nibble you in your sleep."
Bob laughed. "I'm afraid the confined spaces at home would hardly suit
him after this," he said. "I don't think I could stand the nature of
things on the other side myself now."
"Because you're a born wanderer, Bob," smiled Mackay; "an' the world
itself will soon be too small for you."
At last the end of the salt lake was reached, and cheerfully a path was
forced over the encircling ridges, for all had high hopes of what might
lie beyond. But disappointment again was their portion: the grim,
unbroken desert stretched before them in all its hideous dreariness; the
land of beau desire had not yet come.
"I remember well," said Mackay, "that Fortunate Spring was in a pretty
bare sort o' country, but it certainly wasna as bad as this, although we
had a hard tussle before we came to it."
On, on, they struggled; but, if anything, their course became more
difficult as they proceeded. On the following morning a gentle wavy
outline against the sky in the northerly distance warned them of some
impending change, but by this time the members of the expedition had
become spied to their comfortless lot, and scarce dared hope for an
improvement until they neared the portals of their goal, their shadowy
land of El Dorado.
Gradually the sinuous curves on the horizon loomed up plainer to the
view, and lo! as they crested an intervening sand hillock, a strange
sight met their gaze. As far as the eye could reach west or north, a sea
of undulating sand ridges appeared, rolling down like gigantic breakers
from the dim north-west, the mighty valleys between each swelling
sand-wave being over a hundred yards apart and fully thirty feet deep.
Capping these wonderful billows regular rows of saltbush and spinifex,
so regularly spread, indeed, that in the rosy morning light the whole
scene was like some Brobdingnagian field, with furrows bearing luxurious
vegetation.
"I reckon we has struck the land o' Goschen at last," said the Shadow,
joyously.
"It does look pretty," Jack allowed hesitatingly, as they stood to take
in the view, and waited for the others to come up. Indeed, so
unaccustomed had they grown to seeing such close array of even the wiry
desert growths that for the moment all imagined they looked upon a
wildering forest. The saltbush was by the fantasy of mirage exalted to
lordly proportions, and the spiky spinifex patches drooped in the sun's
rays like the spreading fronds of the stately palm.
Mackay dispelled the illusion; he of all the party seemed ill at ease.
"I didna think the sand-waves extended so far back," he muttered, half
to himself. Then he added, aloud, "It's no' a land o' promise you're
lookin' at, boys; it's a deceiving land o' misery an' dispair, where
many a good man has lost his life."
"But what about the beautiful trees and shrubs?" asked Bob, in
wonderment. "They seem to stretch back for miles and miles."
"It's only another case where distance lends enchantment, as the poet
says, my lad. Your trees are only saltbush, and instead o' growin'
closely, there's over fifty yards between each o' them; it's those
behind that fill in the gaps. The eye can never understand the
perspective o' this country, the air is so clear that distant objects
almost blend wi' what is close at hand."
He spoke truly. When they forced their way at a difficult angle across
the vast undulations, they discovered to their sorrow that only the
sparsest of vegetation found root on the hill crests, while the long
interstices were absolutely barren. Not only this, but the sand on the
inclines and declivities was so loosely packed that the camels sank to
the knees in their strenuous efforts to scale them, and had to be pulled
over the barring obstacles by sheer force.
"A day of this will just about finish Remorse," said Mackay, noting how
that meek yet willing animal was labouring under its load. "I think,
Bob, we'd better keep in the trough o' these confounded waves until we
run oot o' them, I ken we must be near the edge as it is, for I mind
that Fortunate Spring was a good day's travel past their eastern limit.
That was why the chief called it by that name. We were vera nearly lost
on those same ridges; we didna find a drop o' water for over a hundred
miles, and we were just about dead beat when we came upon it."
"How far do they run towards the north?" questioned Bob.
"Well, Carnegie, who was one o' the finest explorers that ever handled a
sextant, calculated they covered nearly three hundred miles o' West
Australia. What their area is God only knows, yet it must be over fifty
thousand square miles."
"I should think this would be nearly as bad as the Sahara," said Jack,
as he tugged at Misery's rope. "I haven't seen a drop of water since we
started, unless that which Bob fell into."
"The Sahara?" echoed Mackay. "Why, we wouldn't ca' it a desert at all.
It's only because it's so near the old country that it is considered to
be anything extraordinary. This country, Jack, wouldna be an explorer's
preserve if it contained as much water as the Sahara. It would be
overrun in every direction by gold-miners."
Then Jack was silent, marvelling greatly that in his earlier youth at
school he had learned so little concerning the vast sandy wastes of
Australia. Soon, as they kept on their altered course, the retarding
undulations began to grow less and less high, and by late afternoon they
had merged into the monotonous plains, now welcome indeed to the
travellers after their encounter with the formidable sand-ridges. But
their progress that day had barely totalled ten miles, and the camels
were well-nigh exhausted after their extreme exertions. The poor brutes
had had a severe experience from the beginning, and the rough usage was
telling heavily upon their strength. That night they could scarcely
muster up sufficient spirit to chew their usual meal of saltbush tips,
and, after a few weak efforts, Remorse and Repentance lay down in the
sand, while Misery and Fireworks gazed at the little group around the
camp-fire with mute, appealing eyes.
"I hope we don't have any trouble finding that spring," said Mackay,
anxiously, and instinctively they all turned to Bob with a questioning
look. The young navigator winced as he took out his notebook and
hurriedly checked his previous calculations.
"We were in latitude 28° 24´ 7´´ at noon to-day," he said quietly; "that
should make us about seven miles only from the location of Fortunate
Spring, allowing we made five miles since lunch."
"But the longitude, Bob?" asked Mackay. "How do we stand for that?"
Bob again examined his log-book. "I have it marked at 125° 11´ 17´´," he
answered, "but we came a good bit easterly since that. I'll try it again
in the morning, though I think we're almost on the correct line now, and
should hit the Spring by going due north."
He handed the book to Mackay, who glanced at the figures and mentally
checked the simpler calculations, but he did not ask for Bob's table of
logarithms, and the young man felt satisfied. Bob, indeed, was sure of
his positions; they had been worked out with painful exactitude, but he
could not help feeling anxious about the morrow. The country in the
vicinity seemed so utterly arid and barren. Could the original figures
he received be correct? Might not possibly some mistake have crept into
Bentley's estimates? He shuddered at the thought, then was immediately
sorry for the passing doubt. Who was he who dared question the accuracy
of an old and tried explorer's chart? Yet Bob went to sleep that night
feeling vaguely uneasy, and by early sunrise he was up taking altitudes,
Jack and the Shadow attending him to mark the time of his observations.
It was nearly nine o'clock before they were ready to move out that
morning; the camels had for a long time refused to be loaded, and when
loaded they could not be prevailed upon to arise to their feet, until
forced to do so by the necessarily cruel expedient of lighting fires
under their noses.
"That's nothing, Jack," Mackay said with a laugh, for he had noticed the
look of pain on the boy's face. "They get up long before they're hurt;
their hide is like leather, you know, and camels are vera often stubborn
and annoying when there's really no occasion for it."
But he knew well that the poor animals were not refractory without
reason on this morning, though he endeavoured to make light of the fact.
Wearily the heavily laden beasts trudged along, and when the first hour
passed, and the sand showed signs of hardening, the Shadow made a
valiant effort to infuse life into their hulking movements by blowing at
his long-unused mouth-organ vociferously, and making the air resound
with discordant notes, for his cracked lips could ill glide along the
reeds with any degree of certainty. Bob, who was striding along well in
advance, smiled as he heard the concert thus let loose, and he smiled
the more when the dismal voices of Emu Bill and Never Never Dave were
added to the chorus; and, looking back, he observed these two worthies
prancing on with martial steps, though certainly not with martial grace,
for their bodies were bent as they pulled their reluctant charges
onwards, and their feet, notwithstanding their jaunty uplifting, went
down almost in the same place. And Mackay, looking back at the
perspiring musician, nodded encouragingly, much to that alert youth's
amazement, for he had expected but a rude check as a reward for his
labours. Not only did he thus ostensibly appreciate the lively music,
but he joined in with his comrades lustily in their vocal exercises; and
in this way the labouring train progressed, and almost unnoticeably a
thin, straggling array of mallee and mulga shrubs began to dot the
hardening sand surface, a slight dip in the land had obscured them from
earlier view. By eleven o'clock the sand had merged into the longed-for
iron-pebble strewn plains, and now the scrub was comparatively abundant
all around, and the tough, wiry grasses which the camels loved appeared
in greater profusion. Yet no signs of Fortunate Spring.
"It can't be far off now," said Bob, hopefully. "I'd better fix our
position again before we go further, in case we might pass it."
"And that would be easily done, my lad," spoke Mackay. "I remember well
that the water was in a mallee flat, just scrubby country like this, but
there was no kind o' landmark except a fair-sized lime tree which grew
beside it, an' I canna see any lime trees about here."
"I'll have another shot at the sun," decided Bob, and at once the team
came to a halt, while Jack hastily unstrapped the sextant and
chronometer from Misery's back.
A few minutes more and Bob had worked out the necessary calculation.
"I make the latitude come out exactly," he said gravely.
"Try again, Bob; try again," urged Mackay.
With sinking heart Bob once more levelled his sextant; the horizon was
easily discernible through the scraggy bush, and the flat itself was
level as could be.
"I find the latitude reading correct," he repeated, with bloodless lips;
"and the longitude," he added, after a pause, "is the same as it was
this morning, the same as is marked on my chart over the location of the
Spring."
"We'll soon find it, if it is near abouts," cried Emu Bill, cheerily.
"Don't fret, Bob, them springs have a habit of getting lost at times.
Come on, Never Never, come an' help me to smell it out wi' that tender
nose o' yours."
And they rushed off into the bush towards the west. The Shadow and Jack
started to follow, but Mackay recalled them.
"You two had better look around due north," he said, "and I'll tackle
the east myself. Now don't go further than a mile, an' signal wi' a
revolver-shot if ye find anything."
Without a word they departed on their quest, and Mackay and Bob were
left alone. Calmly the elder man interrogated the lad, who was standing
in an attitude of deepest dejection, the sextant hanging loosely in his
hand.
"And is there no room for a mistake in any o' your figures, Bob?"
"None, none, that I can imagine. I have been particularly careful----"
Bob could not finish his sentence, a flood of emotion swept over him,
and he sat down in the sand and covered his face with his hands.
"Why, my laddie, ye mustn't blame yoursel' for no error o' yours," spoke
Mackay, kindly, gazing at the despondent youth with a strange light in
his keen grey eyes. "Brace yoursel' up, Bob; we'll likely find the
spring at no great distance, an' if we don't, well--we'll look for
another one if the camels stand by us."
He hurried away into the eastward scrub. Bob arose and gazed after him
with quivering eyelids.
"Yes," he murmured brokenly, "I have brought you all to your death, and
I can do nothing now to save.... I know the error is not mine, but I
cannot and will not blame a dead man.... I wonder what can possibly be
wrong."
He shook his head in utter hopelessness, then he glanced at the sextant,
lying as he had left it, half buried in the sand. He took it up and
brushed the silvered arc carefully with the ragged sleeve of his shirt,
and was preparing to place it in its case when a new idea seemed to
strike him. He grasped the instrument with a firmer grip and stood
erect, a new light, a light of gladness shining in his eyes.
"It's strange I never thought of it before," he said aloud; "a minute or
two either way would make all the difference." He picked up the
chronometer, which lay idly at his feet, and examined it critically.
"It's just possible," he muttered, "the jolting of the camel may have
made it go a bit fast; I wonder if I can check it. I am going to try."
Long and eagerly he gazed at the sun through the powerful telescope of
the sextant, and every now and then he would note down his
observations, and consult the Nautical Almanac which lay open before
him. In the midst of these proceedings, Emu Bill and Never Never Dave
returned, after a fruitless search, and while they stood watching him,
Jack and the Shadow also made their appearance, and lined up beside the
other two in solemn silence. There was no need to ask them if they had
been successful, their faces plainly indicated disappointment, though
they both strove hard to hide their feelings. As for the first arrivals,
their rugged countenances betrayed not the slightest trace of emotion.
Bill calmly chewed a quid of tobacco, and Dave reflectively pulled at
his pipe. To them it did not seem to be a matter of much moment whether
they found the spring or not. At length Bob threw down the sextant with
a weary sigh.
"The chronometer is right," said he, sadly; then, as his comrades looked
at him questioningly, he faltered: "I've done my best, boys ... the
fault may not be altogether mine, but ... I am responsible to you....
What can you think of me----?" He gave way completely.
Then out spoke Emu Bill, and his voice rang firm and true--
"Shoot me fur a dingo if I'll listen to you miscallin' yourself, Bob.
You has shown us afore what ye were made o', an' hang me for a
cross-eyed Chinese if I'll believe you've made the mistake."
"I'm right with ye thar, Bill," grunted Never Never.
Bob looked at them in silent gratitude that was more potent than words.
"Blow me!" blurted out the Shadow, "this ain't no funeral circus." He
strode aside and examined the canvas bags overlapping Remorse's tough
hide; they were flat and empty, the last drop had gone. He rejoined the
little circle quietly, and held out his hand to Bob, who was gazing with
unseeing eyes into the horizon. "I knows it ain't your fault," he said
simply.
Jack alone had not spoken, but Bob knew his comrade's thoughts; he knew
the loyal courage and devotion of the boy's heart.
And all this time Mackay had not come back, nor had any welcome signal
been heard. Bob commenced to fear that he would not come back unless he
had something to report.
"What did ye mean by sayin' the chronometer was right, Bob?" asked Emu
Bill, suddenly.
"If it had gone fast or slow, my longitude, which I calculated by it,
would have been out accordingly," replied Bob, listlessly. "I thought
the jolting might have affected it."
"Why then," returned Bill, "ain't it more likely that Bentley's time was
wrong? If he came in from the west across the whole darned stretch o'
sand-ridges, I reckon he would bust things up a bit."
Bob was startled into fresh energy. "Of course, you're right, Bill!" he
cried excitedly. "I've been so anxiously looking for a possible error in
my own instrument, I never thought of it occurring with Bentley's. I
believe you've hit the solution of the whole difficulty. We'll find
Fortunate Spring due east of us in that case, for his latitude would be
sure to be right."
"We'll get under way at oncet then," grunted Never Never Dave. "We're
bound to meet Mackay comin' back."
At once Jack rushed to Misery's head, and the others hastened to their
posts. Bob picked up the sextant and chronometer, and with a surging
hope in his heart led the way in the direction that Mackay had taken.
Slowly, slowly, they broke through the scrub, Misery's bell sending out
its melancholy note, and shattering the oppressive stillness which had
prevailed but a few minutes before. Onward they went and onward, and yet
no sign of Mackay, and no sign of a spring to gladden their weary eyes.
About two miles had been traversed, and the spirits of the forlorn party
were drooping fast, when from the bush but a few hundred yards ahead a
revolver shot boomed out loudly. With one accord the camels stopped
dead. They seemed to realize that something was about to happen. Again
came the sonorous echoes of an exploding cartridge, and a hoarse cheer
burst from the eagerly listening quartet.
"Mackay has found it! Hurrah! Hurrah!" roared the Shadow, and with
renewed effort a path was forced on towards the origin of the welcome
sound. Five minutes more and they broke into a rough clearing in the
bush in the centre of which a tall lime tree reared high above its
dwarfed surroundings; and seated by the tree gazing at some rude
markings that showed faintly on the gaunt white trunk, was Mackay. At
his feet, sunk among the spreading roots, and half hidden by
enclustering grassy growths, gleamed the water of the spring. Bob gave a
gasp of relief and thankfulness. Emu Bill and Never Never Dave calmly
began to unload the camels, the Shadow after vainly trying to find his
speech, mechanically pulled out his musical instrument, and sought to
indicate his joy thereon.
Then Mackay arose to his feet, "Dinna desecrate the place, Shadow,"
said he, in gentle reproach. "Remember this is a monument to the dead."
He motioned Bob and Jack to come forward and view the mossy inscription
on the tree, and silently they obeyed his summons. Deep graven in the
wood was the legend: "Fortunate Spring, 1898. Bentley's Expedition. Lat.
28° 17´ 5´´, long. 125° 19´ 6´´ (Dead Reck.) Course E." Then followed a
list of the initials of the party headed by those of Mackay: "J. M."
By this time Emu Bill, Never Never Dave, and the Shadow had also
gathered round to view the symbols left by Mackay's old leader, and as
each man traced out the lettering for himself, he doffed his tattered
hat reverently.
"Ay, boys," spoke Mackay, breaking the solemn hush that reigned, "it was
a fortunate spring for us then, and it's a fortunate spring for this
expedition now. But how did you manage to come straight for it, Bob? It
took me a good time zig-zagging through the bush before I sighted the
tree."
In a few words the young navigator explained the cause of their coming,
then he pointed to the inscription "Dead Reck." "That shows that Bentley
did not think his readings altogether accurate," he said gravely, "and
he meant it as a warning to others, though why he didn't put it on his
chart is strange to me."
Mackay looked at the speaker with a troubled countenance.
"It's been my fault, Bob. When I copied the figures into my own book I
didna think it necessary to put the qualification down."
"I wants to say here," interjected Emu Bill, "that in my humble opinion
Bob can steer a course wi' any man, an' my ole carcase is here to prove
it. A hundred an' eighty miles he's took us across the miserablest
country on God's earth, an' nary time has I heard him grumble."
"I goes nap on Bob every time," concurred Never Never.
A light of real happiness overspread Mackay's bronzed features.
"What more can you ask, Bob?" he said earnestly, "than the testimony o'
the pioneer, wha' lends his life to your guidance."
"Hurrah for Fortunate Spring!" shouted Jack, unable to contain himself
longer.
"Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah!" roared the answering chorus.