A Night Attack
They lingered for two days by Fortunate Spring in order to give the
camels a much-needed rest, then they proceeded on their march, now
steering due east, and it was strange indeed how this altered course
affected the spirits of the party. They seemed to feel that they were at
last on the straight track towards the mystic land of their desire.
Mackay even more than the others showed the change in his feelings; he
whistled joyously in the exuberance of his heart, and cheered on the
labouring team with hearty words of praise. And Bob, relieved
considerably of his own vague doubts in himself, had changed apparently
into a new being. The vagaries of the Shadow called forth his amusement,
and the dry wordy dialogues of the two bushmen never failed to make him
laugh with keenest appreciation, a fact which endeared him much to that
valiant couple. The freedom of the mighty desert held him in thrall, its
dangers were forgotten, the call of the wild was in his ears, the secret
of the Never Never beckoned him.
"I told you the sunny skies would alter your temperament," said Jack,
whose boisterous good nature had never once deserted him. "I don't think
a man gets a fair show in the constantly cloudy weather at home."
"And yet we always get back to the old country somehow," answered Bob,
thoughtfully. "I suppose its grand history attracts us when the greater
world has palled. I believe I could almost live in history, Jack,
wandering about among the castles and cathedrals that have seen the
centuries pass. What wonderful records the grim old walls hold. Why,
each stone would seem alive to me."
"It would be pleasant to have a big holiday at home," admitted Jack,
wistfully; "but our time--and means, for travelling about was pretty
limited when we were there----"
"But that will never be again," cried Bob, gaily; "just consider what we
have already got in this country, and who knows what may await us out
where we are going?"
Who knew indeed? Who ever knows what lies in the dim distance of
untrodden tracts? The days passed quickly, though the country continued
to be barren and cheerless in aspect, the difficulties of travel were
not nearly what they had been on the first long weary stretch. More than
once a soak was discovered to replenish the water-bags before they had
yet gone dry, and within a week two new wells had been charted. They
were little more than the muddy residues of a long previous rainfall,
still, the dignity of a Central Australian well as a rule lies wholly in
its title, a fact which is well enough known to all explorers.
So successful were they in their journeying that after ten days had
elapsed, and they were a hundred and forty miles east of Fortunate
Spring, Mackay considered that a brief deviation to the north might be
ventured upon on the off chance of evading a long dry stretch which at
this stage intervened on Bentley's route, the next and final spring
charted by that explorer being over seventy miles distant.
"We had a terribly hard time on that journey," said he, as he gazed
across the wavy expanse of shifting sands which spread before them, "an'
it's just possible the country to the north'ard a bit may be better. It
canna be much worse."
For a long time, however, the varied route showed little prospect of
improvement; sand, sand, everlasting sand spread everywhere before them,
and progress became dangerously slow. The camels struggled in vain to
make headway; they sank and floundered and stumbled in the wreathing
masses. In five days the distance covered totalled only forty miles. No
wonder Mackay looked grave as he noticed the water-bags' woefully flat
appearance.
"I tell you what, boys," burst out Emu Bill, during their noonday halt,
"it's mighty sartain we has struck a snag this time. This is the
miserablest patch----" He broke off abruptly and fell to abusing the
flies besieging his face with remarkable eloquence. No one seemed
disposed to question Bill's statement in any way, and shortly afterwards
the march was renewed, Bill, Never Never, and the Shadow alternately
lauding the striving camels for their patient endurance, and bestowing
maledictions upon them for their ponderously slow onward movement.
Hour after hour the melancholy procession laboured along. So soon had
the grimmer influence of the country exerted its baleful spell that for
a long time each man feared to speak lest he might betray the growing
depression at his heart. Then, just as the evening shadows were
beginning to close in, a welcome break in the monotonous landscape
appeared to gladden their straining eyes. In the faint distance a
feathery line of scrub stretched across their path, indicating a decided
change in the sand surface, and the sight added vigour to their failing
steps. Eagerly they strove to reach the inviting mallee coppice before
the thick blackness of night came down to envelop them. But it was not
to be; the stumbling gait of the camels could not be hastened, though
Emu Bill and his compatriots implored and beseeched the hardy animals
with an eloquence that was touching to hear.
"One more try, boys," cried Mackay. "There's bound to be water somewhere
among the timber, and we may save ourselves another night of misery by
finding it now." He went to Jack's assistance, and together they tugged
at the leading camel's nose-rope until the poor brute was literally
being dragged through the yielding sands. This method of progression not
proving very satisfactory, he next made laudable endeavour to enliven
the march by singing raucously a few bars from that old song, "The
Campbells are Coming."
"I just reckon they are comin'," Never Never Dave groaned, somewhat
confusing the reference; "but they need a jolly lot of persuasion, they
do. Get up, Repentance, you cross-eyed streak o' misery. Didn't I give
ye a drink last week?"
At length Mackay saw that they must be content to halt in the open for
one night more.
"We can't do it, boys," he said, "so let us look for a decent
camping-space in the sand; we'll find water if there's any about in the
morning."
They had barely time to gather a few twigs from the sparse brush now in
evidence, and start a feeble fire, before an impenetrable darkness
descended over the desert. Then they busied themselves unloading the
camels and preparing their frugal meal, the latter an operation which
rarely occupied much time, for obvious reasons. They were indeed in a
very deplorable plight at this period; the water-bags had given up much
of their store by evaporation, and they now contained but a very meagre
supply of the valuable liquid, and the camels were well-nigh dying on
their feet from sheer exhaustion.
The hour was quite late, and they were about to roll themselves in their
blankets, when suddenly a bright light flamed up luridly among the trees
in their course, and harshly through the still air rose the strains of a
native chant.
"By the Great Howlin' Billy!" growled Never Never Dave, "there's a
corroborree on to-night. It's mighty lucky we didn't reach the timber,
after all."
"If there's any nigs about there's bound to be water," asserted the
Shadow, with a chuckle of delight, and certainly his reasoning was
sound.
Higher and higher blazed the warning beacon, and louder and louder
sounded the warriors' dismal wailings, and through the leafless branches
of the eucalypti a wildly dancing band of ape-like figures could be
distinguished. The little group gazed at the ominous spectacle in
silence and with mingled feelings. The presence of a native tribe in the
neighbourhood was conclusive proof that an ample water supply was not
far off; indeed the aborigines of the Interior almost invariably hold
their corroborree ceremonials around the principal spring of the
district, for according to their belief a mighty spirit has its abode
in every desert pool or soak, and from the slimy depths thereof watches
over the welfare of his people. But when ought displeases this dread
"Wangul"--the great Dweller in the Waters--he visits his wrath upon the
land by drying up the springs and betaking himself elsewhere. It is a
wonderfully convenient idea, for it explains away all droughts and
following pestilences, and it appeals to the simple heathen instinct as
no finer teachings could. To propitiate this god of theirs many
ordinances are performed and numerous sacrifices offered, and should any
wandering members of an alien tribe happen to be near on such occasions,
they are promptly seized upon to occupy the unenviable position of
"Corroborree mourners," a post which entails death, preceded by much
horrible suffering.
Mackay was mentally recalling his various experiences with the natives
in different parts of the country, and with little sense of comfort,
when Emu Bill disturbed his musings by saying suddenly--
"I wonder what the howling celebration means to-night, anyway?"
The others had by this time gone to sleep, having been utterly worn out
by their trying day's encounter with the desert, and these two sat alone
by the dying fire.
"I'm just a wee bit afraid, Bill," answered Mackay, dubiously, "that it
has some bearing on our arrival. I never did like to be near the
murderous pests in the nighttime."
Bill stirred about uneasily, and it was clear that he shared Mackay's
fears.
"I believe you are right," he said, after a moment's pause. "The skunks
must have seen us a long way off."
He relapsed into a gloomy silence, and began to draw with great care
sundry diagrams in the sand with the improvised camp poker.
Meanwhile the whirling figures in the wood continued their mad career,
and the flames from the great fire in their midst spouted high above the
motionless mallee tips. The myriad stars twinkled merrily in an
unclouded sky, and the Southern Cross constellation shone out
brilliantly almost directly overhead. A slender crescent moon just above
the horizon lent its feeble halo to the scene, so that a vague, eerie
half light seemed to float on the surface of the land. Faster and still
faster the maddened Wangul worshippers rushed, and the night was filled
with their harsh, unmusical ravings.
Mackay watched the progress of events with quickening interest, while
Emu Bill with many a muttered malediction examined the charges in his
revolver, and smoked reflectively. Mackay was very unwilling to awake
the sleepers unless it were absolutely necessary; they needed all the
rest they could get. But Emu Bill recalled him to a sense of duty.
"I've been watching the circus," he said quietly, "an' I can see nary
mourner in the crowd. For a dead cert they'll be comin' fur us when
they've worked up enough enthusiasm. They'll imagine us to be asleep by
now."
Mackay got up without a word, and shook Bob and Jack back to
consciousness. Never Never Dave was alert on the instant, but the Shadow
slumbered deeply and refused to be awakened, whereupon Emu Bill aroused
him by rolling him rudely out of his blanket, a proceeding which almost
created a civil war on the spot.
"You has no right to dislocate my sweet dreams in such a dingo
fashion," the bellicose Shadow protested grumpily; but when he
understood the seriousness of the position his wrath dissolved speedily.
"At the same time I reckon you is a bit too much skeert about the antics
o' them muskitties," he remarked chidingly. "I was having a daisy dream,
I was; flooded rivers an' gold an' di'monds, an'----"
"Shut it off, Shad," unsympathetically interrupted the object of his
disapproval. "They're on our track now. Look!"
The corroborree fire continued to blaze up vividly, and the watchers
could see numerous naked savages piling on the logs and dancing amid the
showering sparks like denizens of the nether world. The circling mass of
grotesquely garbed warriors had broken up in apparent confusion, but
quickly they again came into view and re-formed on the edge of the zone
of illumination, then spreading fan-like to north and south, they came
slowly yet steadily towards the supposed sleeping camp. A moment more
and they were hidden from view in the intervening shadows.
"Things are beginning to look lively," said Bob, adjusting his
cartridge-belt.
Jack ranged himself quietly by his comrade's side, his rifle gripped in
readiness.
"I don't know how this is going to turn out, Bob," he said slowly; "but
I mean to shoot straight, to-night."
"It's a case o' self preservation, my lad," warned Mackay; and he closed
the breech of his powerful weapon with a vicious snap. "You needna think
o' usin' the stock o' your gun in this scrimmage. I am just afraid it's
goin' to be more serious than I thought."
There could be little doubt as to the meaning of the wily natives'
tactics. Assuredly they intended to surround the little camp, which they
considered to be safely asleep, and spear the party at their leisure.
"We are to be their sacrificial offerings, apparently," remarked Bob,
with forced calm.
Mackay was aroused to a sudden burst of fury at the words; his
long-smouldering anger against the natives effervesced to an alarming
pitch.
"I'll give them sacrifices," he grated, peering into the darkness with
eyes that seemed like glowing coals of fire over the gleaming barrel of
his rifle. "I'll make them think an earthquake has broken loose in their
midst. I'll--I'll----"
Indignation choked his fiery utterance, and he said no more, but toyed
lingeringly with the trigger of his gun.
A minute elapsed, it seemed an eternity, but no signs of the enemy could
yet be traced. Instinctively Bob's eyes returned to the recent centre of
affairs where the impish fire feeders were heaping on the logs with
frantic glee, and he shuddered involuntarily. The suspense was rapidly
becoming unbearable, and the little band expected every moment to be
overwhelmed with flying spears from some unlooked-for corner. Each pigmy
bush around to their overstrained vision took on the appearance of a
crouching warrior, and it was with the exercise of great restraint that
Mackay and his comrades refrained from firing at random into the night.
Slowly the seconds dragged their weary course, then all at once a weird
unearthly chorus reached the ears of the anxiously waiting group; it
seemed to come from everywhere around, and they turned about in dismay.
The attacking horde were closing in on them from all points of the
compass. Only when the ring had been completed had they begun their
deadly advance. Neither Mackay nor any of them had expected this.
"I reckon we is bested, mates," groaned Emu Bill, helplessly; and it
certainly did seem as if he spoke truly.
Another minute elapsed, then they grounded their arms in impotent rage;
the swelling chant from an unknown number of throats was drawing
insidiously nearer, and they could only roughly guess the various
origins of sound. Mackay turned to Jack to give a last word of
encouragement, and he was surprised to find the boy standing by Bob's
side in an attitude of acute attention--his head was bent forward, and
he shielded his ear with his hand as if he were listening intently.
"I've got them," he whispered eagerly. "Unless there's a dummy musician
in their ranks, there's a fifty yards' blank in the circle straight out
by the camel packs."
"How many do you make altogether, Jack?" inquired Mackay.
The boy replied promptly, "They seem to be about thirty yards or so
apart. They are nearly two hundred yards off now, and coming very
slowly. There must be nearly fifty of the beasts."
"Good for you, Jack," murmured Mackay, heartily, a tribute of praise
which even at that moment Emu Bill and the Shadow echoed with
characteristic vehemence.
There was no time to be lost, the fateful ring was closing every
instant; so, gripping his rifle tightly, the leader of the expedition
made a course out in the direction as indicated by Jack, his comrades
following after in Indian file. And as they passed out by the camels,
each man breathed a prayer for their safety; then, with the hideous
voices of the approaching warriors ringing in their ears, they made
their way stealthily out through the saving gap into the freedom beyond.
Surely never before had a course been steered by such odd reckoning, yet
the droning cries on either side of the escaping party as they neared
the edge of the invisible circle guided them as well as glaring beacons
would have done, and they manoeuvred cautiously through the midst of the
fervently singing band, luckily escaping all observation.
"It was like navigatin' through the Heads of Sydney Harbour," exclaimed
Emu Bill, flinging himself down on the sand immediately they had cleared
the dangerous line.
"We've got to thank our stars the beggars have the good sense to say
grace before supper," said Jack, cheerfully.
"We are no' just altogether out o' the difficulty yet," warned Mackay.
"They'll be back with a rush when they find out their mistake."
"But you ain't goin' to let them run the whole circus, surely?"
complained Emu Bill. "Let's pepper the howlin' dervishes now."
Mackay seemed to hesitate for a moment, the odds in numbers were greatly
against them.
"Train your guns on the old camp, boys," he said quietly. "You'll see
their black bodies against the glow o' the ashes when they get nearer."
He had scarcely spoken these words when the dismal chant of the
over-sanguine natives ceased, and with blood curdling yells the savage
horde swept on to their supposed work of extermination. The onlookers
saw a perfect hail of spears strike and quiver amid the smouldering
ashes; then a fantastical array of fiend-like forms swarmed before their
eyes, and prolonged shrieks of baffled rage rent the air. Now was their
opportunity. "Fire, boys!" cried Mackay, himself setting the example;
and the death-dealing weapons thundered out their grim challenge to the
foe. When they looked again only a fiercely struggling mass of black
humanity was visible, and the scattering sparks showed where the shots
had taken effect. Once more a well-directed volley was poured into the
surging crowd; but this time the flash of the rifles betrayed their
presence, and immediately about a dozen gaunt apparitions charged down
on the little party with vengeful shouts. It looked as if nothing could
stand against that maddened rush. In vain the rifles spoke, the members
of the attacking band seemed in no wise to diminish, their figures could
only be vaguely traced in the gloom.
[Illustration: "IT LOOKED AS IF NOTHING COULD STAND AGAINST THAT
MADDENED RUSH"]
"Keep easy, lads; keep easy," said Mackay, encouragingly. "Load up your
magazines, an' reserve every bullet until they are close on to us. We
can't miss them then, and it's our only hope of stopping them."
Bob, plying his almost red-hot rifle, checked himself at the words, and
calmly obeyed the instructions given; Jack, panting furiously with his
extreme exertions, grounded his loaded weapon and waited with something
like a gnawing despair at his heart. The Shadow grumbled incoherently to
himself, Emu Bill and Never Never Dave said not a word, but stood erect,
calm, and motionless beside Mackay, awaiting the shock. Then a strange
thing happened; while the demoralized natives around the vacated camp
kept up their frenzied rushing hither and thither, seeking aimlessly
their hidden enemy, the four camels of the expedition, aroused by the
unusual sounds prevailing, stalked slowly forward into the thick of the
mêlée, and there they stood, their long necks swaying curiously, like
fearsome spectres from an unknown world. A howl of terror burst from the
group who had located the position of the defenders, they ceased their
onward course, hesitated for a moment, then turned and fled
precipitately, an example which the rest of their stricken brethren
speedily thought fit to copy; and before Mackay or any of his companions
could realize what had happened, the entire assembly were in full
retreat, leaving the bulk of their spears and boomerangs littered on the
sand.
"Good for you, Misery!" applauded Jack, running forward, and the leader
of the team, hearing the well-known voice, staggered to meet him and
knelt at his feet.
"I reckon we owes them animiles the price o' our carcases," said Never
Never Dave, sententiously, as they walked quietly back to the deserted
camp-fire. They found their blankets lying as they had left them, but
transfixed with numberless spears, and after carefully extracting these
crude yet deadly missiles they replenished the fire with them, and lay
down to rest beside the ruddy glow, for it was now early morning, and
the air had become unpleasantly chill. The corroborree beacon had been
deserted, only occasional scattering sparks showing where the strange
ceremonial had taken place, and away in the distance the vague crackling
of branches indicated that the would-be annihilators of the camp were
already far from reach.
"Great Centipedes! That was a close shave," growled Emu Bill, before he
dropped off to sleep.
"But we have the advantage of knowing," returned Bob, with his usual
calm philosophy, "that we shall find water near where the beggars held
their odd orgy, and that should recompense for much." Then his eyes
closed in slumber, and he entered a realm of phantasies where hostile
aborigines and dreary salt plains were alike unknown. The weary strain
of the night was over.
They found water after daybreak as they had anticipated. It was
contained in a deep sunken rock-hole with an almost unfathomable bottom,
wherein one might well fancy some dread monster to exist. They refilled
the empty water-bags with thankful hearts, and, fearing another attack
in force that night, renewed their march early in the afternoon. It was
soon apparent that a better country had now been reached; dry it was
certainly, yet the soil showed a considerable improvement over that
already traversed, and the scrub became almost continuous instead of in
sparse and far-divided belts as formerly. But though all promised well
for an unusually favourable journey that day and for many days to come,
the presence of hostile bands of aborigines all along the route of
travel was too evident a feature of the landscape to be overlooked, and
the team had perforce to move onwards warily.
"I do hope," said Mackay, as the evening approached, "that the blacks
will give us a rest to-night. There's more risk in these scrimmages at
close quarters than is healthy."
Bob had arrived at that conclusion some time before. "We're not more
than fifty miles from the location you gave me of Bentley's last camp,"
he observed gravely. "If I shift the course slightly to the south
to-morrow we ought to be up at it in three days."
A spasm of pain crossed Mackay's face. "Ay, my lad, we'll need to be
extra cautious now," he said meaningly. "We mustna allow oursel's to be
wiped out before we come to the mountain. I've got a bit of a score to
settle in that quarter."
The sun was now but a few points above the western horizon, and his
fiery radiance bathed the great silent bushland in golden splendour. The
motionless mulga and mallee shrubs seemed ablaze with ruddy light, and
the wastes of sand shone as a sea of burnished bronze. Not a sound was
heard save the harsh cries of the gaily plumaged parrots that flitted
eerily from tree to tree, and the occasional dismal monotone of the
mopoke. Then suddenly from the shadow of a thicker clump of timber than
usual a series of yells rang out, and at the same time a shower of
spears whizzed overhead, and perilously close. Each member of the little
group realized in an instant what had happened, and seized his rifle.
"Get the camels under cover, boys!" cried Mackay, from his position well
ahead of the main party.
"There's nary bit o' cover!" roared back Emu Bill, who had
diplomatically stretched himself flat on the ground at the first alarm.
Whiz! splash! Even as he spoke a long quivering missile rushed through
the shadeless branches and penetrated the great water-bag overlapping
Remorse's flank. The stout canvas resisted the shock sufficiently to
save the animal from injury, but the precious and dearly-hoarded
contents gushed from the rent created in a copious flood. A cry of
horror broke from Bob, Jack uttered a wail of anguish, and an expression
of much fervour issued from Never Never Dave's mouth. With a bound
Mackay rushed forward in vain attempt to save the few remaining drops,
but it was not to be; before they had time to realize the seriousness of
their loss the gurgling stream had ceased; the canvas skin had given up
its store.
"I'll pulverize the hyena that did it!" howled the Shadow, dashing
forward through the scrub.
"I'm with you," cried Jack, following closely at his heels.
It all happened so quickly that Mackay had no time to give any
directions or restrain the indignant pair. Several further flights of
spears skimmed well overhead, and one or two barbed darts more surely
aimed, whistled dangerously near to Mackay's head.
"This is gettin' mighty monotonous," growled Emu Bill, looking around
impotently, for as yet not a single savage was to be seen.
"There must be water in the district," said Bob, coolly, examining his
revolver. "I suppose we've got to go on the hunt again." Without further
remark he turned and rushed after his companions, whose vehement shouts
as they charged along were mingled with the shrill cries of the dusky
warriors. "Try and catch one, Shadow," he loudly shouted as he ran.
Fearful that disaster might overtake the entire party, Mackay gripped
his rifle and hurried after them, leaving Emu Bill and Never Never Dave
in charge of the team, a position which they condemned bitterly at such
a time. The shadows of night were fast closing in, and between the trees
of the pigmy forest a heavy gloom had settled providing excellent cover
for the blacks should they have decided to renew the attack; but these
strange creatures, having discharged their weapons, were now beating a
retreat, yelling most hideously the while.
Scarcely fifty yards before him Mackay could dimly descry Jack, the
Shadow, and Bob leaping on after the fugitives, and he quickened his
pace in order to come up with them.
"We'll catch a specimen," cried Bob, eagerly, "if we have to chase them
all night."
On they raced, while the crackling branches a little way ahead betokened
the nearness of their quarry, whose shrieks alone would have been an
unerring guide. Evidently the fleeing warriors were just as tired as
their pursuers, for they were gradually losing ground. Suddenly one of
their number screeched out some sort of signal which had the effect of
making the runners scatter in all directions. Bob could just see their
shaggy heads above the bushes as they diverged on various tacks; then
the new order of things confused them all, and one by one the
gorilla-like figures vanished from their view. Yet still they kept up
the race, loth to return without some satisfaction. The night was
rapidly darkening, obscuring the scrub and intervening sand wastes in a
common pall, so that progress was made only with great difficulty, and
wearily the aimless search was continued.
"We'll have to turn, boys," said Mackay, at length, when the stars
commenced to glimmer in the heavens. "We must go back to the camels.
To-morrow we'll have a look round for water. And to think that we had
any amount of it this morning----"
A hearty exclamation from the Shadow interrupted him. They were passing
under an unusually large lime tree, and that youthful individual had
halted with an unrestrained roar of mingled merriment and relief.
Looking up against the stars Mackay could see an awkward figure
scrambling frantically among the higher branches.
"Treed! By Jove!" cried Bob, gazing upwards also.
"I reckoned I smelt nigger," said the Shadow, when he had recovered his
equanimity; "but if his long legs hadn't banged me on the cocoa-nut, I'd
never ha' thought o' lookin' in the tree for the skunk."
"And now comes the job o' gettin' him down," said Mackay. "An' it won't
be an easy contract either, judgin' by the way he hangs on to the
branches."
"The Shadow and I will soon attend to him," said Jack, with a laugh; and
without further ado he commenced to swarm up the small round trunk of
the tree.
"Be careful, Jack," warned Mackay. "He may smash your head before you
reach him."
"Will he, though?" growled the active climber, already half-way up.
"Strategy's the word, Jack," councilled the Shadow, as he prepared to
ascend to his companion's assistance. The lithe tree swayed under its
load, then bent until its lower limbs reached the ground.
"We'd better see that our prisoner doesn't make his escape by jumping
for it," remarked Bob, and he and Mackay therefore stood at opposite
sides of the tree, watching the huddled form with alert eyes. Nearer and
nearer Jack writhed his way to the top, and slowly the terrified
aboriginal retreated to the farthest limit of the branch on which he
rested, until it cracked ominously.
"I guess I've got you now," muttered Jack. "You just wait till I come to
you."
But the shivering savage had no such intention; and as Jack approached
he began to scream horribly, more after the manner of a wild beast than
a human being. Then he broke off bits of the lesser branches and twigs,
and showered them down on his implacable enemy.
"Just shake him off the branch an' I'll catch him," advised the Shadow,
worming his sinewy form along the limb directly underneath his prey.
In vain Jack endeavoured to grasp his prospective prisoner, the oily
native eluded him every time, and sorely tried the persistent besieger's
temper by keeping up a vicious fusillade of wood fragments. He had,
however, completely overlooked the presence of the Shadow directly
below, and when in the midst of a furious assault, his foot slipped
slightly, it was instantly seized by that watchful gentleman, and held
in a ruthless grip.
"Now, I reckon you've got to come," said he, evading the free limb's
onslaught with much dexterity. "Now! Stand from under, boys!"
Crash! They came down all three together, the top branch having broken
with the strain, but the height was not very great, and the sand below
was loosely packed.
"It's a jolly good thing," quoth the Shadow, "that the black beggar was
so nice and soft; it was just like bouncing on top o' a cushion, it
was."
Jack did not appear to be particularly grateful for anything as he
picked himself up, but he very promptly took an arm of the captive along
with the Shadow.
"Yes, that's right; take care of your prisoner now that you've got him,"
said Mackay, turning to lead the way back to the spot where the camel
team had been left. "We'll have to mak' the most o' his knowledge."
Then he addressed the sullen aboriginal, and by a constant repetition
of the word "Babba" (water), sought to make him understand their needs.
But it was all to no purpose. The captive made no sign, and only groaned
horribly when the question was pressed with a show of anger.
"All the same," sternly spoke Bob, "he'll have to tell us what he knows
before morning."
In a short time they had reached the camels, where Emu Bill and Never
Never Dave awaited them with ill-concealed impatience. But their joy on
observing the aboriginal was great indeed.
"I reckon he'll get water for us all right," said Emu Bill, as they
unloaded the camel. "I just reckon he will."
The Shadow now proceeded to build a fire, and soon the roaring flames
leapt up cheerily. Having no water, they could not make tea, so they
contented themselves with munching some pieces of damper, for which,
however, they had little appetite.
It was at this point that the prisoner showed signs of interest in the
proceedings, and Jack thereupon proffered him a substantial bunch of the
dry fare, which he seized and ate with avidity.
But still Mackay's repeated interrogations seemed to have no effect on
the savage, who kept glancing over to where the Shadow was gingerly
slicing up some tinned conglomeration which is served out to explorers
under a variety of names, and he opened his cavernous orifice
expectantly.
"The poor beggar is hungry," said Bob. "Let him have a piece of that
unknown substance, Shadow; if it does not kill him it may arouse some
sense of gratitude."
"He'd reduce our stores mighty quick," grumbled the Shadow, noting with
dismay how rapidly his hospitable offerings disappeared.
"Just hold on a jiff," murmured Emu Bill, thoughtfully. "I reckon I has
struck a daisy idea." He hastened over to the many sacks lying on the
ground where the camels had been unloaded, and came back with a handful
of salt. "When you are as old as I is, Shad," said he, graciously, "you
will know how to handle blacks, I calc'late. Does ye savvy?"
The Shadow took the salt with humble deference, and without a word
proceeded to mix it lavishly with the contents of a small tin of the
afore-mentioned compound, which he then handed to the hungry native.
"Eat every bit o' it, ye howlin' baboon," said he, kindly, "an' if ye
isn't as thirsty as a camel after it, I reckon there must be something
wrong wi' your construction."
Mackay and Bob listened to the schemers with amusement, then, as they
saw the ravenous heathen bolt the salt-laden meat with great gusto, they
forgot for a moment their own thirsty condition and indulged in a
paroxysm of laughter.
"For a certainty our dusky friend will want water badly soon," said Bob;
and they all sat around the camp fire and calmly awaited developments.
If their prisoner knew of the presence of water in the vicinity he must
surely endeavour to find it--half a pound of the strongest salt in his
interior might enlighten him as to the meaning of 'Babba Babba,' which
Mackay had repeated to him so persistently. And they were not mistaken.
Half an hour later he began to show unmistakable signs of uneasiness,
and his lips moved like the gills of a fish out of water. Then he
strained at the rope which bound him to a mulga sapling behind, and
rolled his eyes beseechingly.
"Better give him a full hour yet," said Mackay. "We can thirst just as
comfortably as he can now, I think."
Emu Bill chuckled dryly.
"I is a grand instructor o' furrin' languages," he said. "I just reckon
that that there nigger knows what water means now."
It was nearly midnight, and the slow minutes dragged like ages as they
sat around the fire anxiously watching the antics of the salt-gorged
aboriginal. For a long time no one spoke, but their basilisk-like glare
evidently disconcerted the sufferer in no little degree, and he
commenced to moan in an exceedingly melancholy manner, and endeavoured
to evade their gaze by every artifice in his power.
"He thinks we mean to eat him, and have been feeding him to make him
nice and plump!" hazarded Bob at length, and he had truly guessed the
captive's thoughts. However, the tortures of thirst were surely having
due effect on the poor savage, and his cries soon became most
distracting to the listeners' ears. Suddenly he broke into a wailing
chorus which echoed dismally through the still air, and caused even the
long-suffering camels to raise their heads in protest.
"B-bab-ba-bab-ba!" he cried, tugging strenuously at the binding cords.
"Patience ain't so bad a virtue, after all," soliloquized Emu Bill,
calmly slackening the rope from the tree, and gripping the free end of
it tightly. With a bound the native headed out into the densest part of
the scrub, almost pulling Bill over the sand in his frantic haste; the
rest of the party followed at their best speed. Their now tractable
guide did not lead them any distance. He stopped in a small hollow not
far from the scene of his capture, and with feverish hands scraped away
some covering twigs and branches, revealing to the onlookers' eager eyes
a glittering pool of clearest water.
With a deep gurgle of relief he buried his tangled visage in the spring,
and drank so deeply that the Shadow felt compelled to jerk him backwards
out of sheer regard for his welfare.
"It's mighty stupid o' ye drinkin' so much after a heavy supper," said
he, reprovingly. "It's real bad for your digestion, I reckon."