A Midnight Halt--A Mysterious Procession--Sudden Dispersion and
Flight--Open Country once more and another Mystery Ahead.
As well as could be made out in the gloom cast by the scrub, they had
reached a small break in it, and Morton wheeling off, the others
followed, and the party dismounted, as the leader judged, some two
hundred yards from the track. Morton gave his orders in low tones,
for the atmosphere of awe and mystery affected everybody. There was
no grass, so the horses were simply relieved of their packs and tied
to trees; then the men stretched themselves on their blankets without
making a fire, and, save for the occasional stamp and snort of a
horse, the scrub was as silent as before the white men roused the
echoes.
Not for long.
It seemed to Brown that he had scarcely closed his eyes when the camp
was aroused by a distant melancholy cry. No one spoke; all were too
intently engaged in listening. The cry sounded again, louder,
nearer, and in a chorus of many voices.
"What bad luck," whispered Morton to his friend. "One day sooner or
later and we would have been right."
Nearer and nearer came the plaintive wailing, and the gleam of
firesticks was visible. It was a most uncomfortable sensation that
our adventurers experienced, lying prone and motionless in the gloomy
scrub listening to this weird procession passing through the desert
land. They were well armed, and confident against any number of
aborigines, but the sights they had encountered were so much out of
the ordinary bush routine as to make even such old hands as Brown and
Morton feel slightly nervous. Charlie was naturally much excited,
while Billy was "larding the lean earth" with the perspiration of
abject, superstitious fear.
The party of natives were now opposite to them, and not very far
away, and by the number of firesticks they judged that there must be
a good many in the company. Every now and then the wild wail or
chant kept breaking out, and the shuffling noise of their bare feet
was distinctly audible during the silent intervals.
They had almost passed the hidden watchers, when the procession was
interrupted by a sudden and discordant shout from the leaders. A
babble of voices followed, the firesticks gathered together for a
moment, and were then dashed on the ground and extinguished. Next
came the noise of feet flying back along the track; these died
rapidly away in the distance, and the scrub was as silent as before.
"Saw our tracks!" said Brown with a disgusted sigh, breaking the
spell that held them all quiet.
"How could they see our tracks in the dark?" asked Charlie.
"They could both feel and smell them," returned Morton. "The ground
is caked hard from the last thunder-storm, and our horses walking one
after the other have cut it up soft. Of course, with their bare feet
they could tell the difference at once. The scent, too, would be as
plain as possible at this time in the morning, even to one of us.
What's the time, Brown?"
Brown struck a match.
"Three. It will be breaking day soon after five. Let's wait till
then."
"Why?" demanded Morton. "We might as well get along while it's cool.
There's the remains of a moon just rising."
"Why? Because you think with me that it was a funeral party. Now, I
should like to know what they did with the body; they never carried
it away with them at that pace."
"Never thought of that," returned Morton. "Yes, we might pick up
some information by waiting until daylight and seeing what they threw
away. Make a fire, and we'll have breakfast."
The time soon passed in discussing the strange scene just witnessed
and the probable result of their trip. Morton reminded Brown of the
freemasons M'Dowall Stuart asserted he met with amongst the
aborigines in the interior, and Charlie, who had not heard the former
conversation, was enlightened as to the probable meaning of what had
just passed.
As soon as daylight was strong enough the investigation commenced.
Right on the track where it had been hastily dropped lay the dead
body of a man. A tall old man, fastened on to a rude litter of
saplings. The forehead was smeared with red pigment, and on the
dusky breast was a triangle inscribed in white.
Brown gave a low whistle.
"That's a thing I never saw blacks draw before," he said to Morton.
"Nor I. He's a fine-looking old boy. What a long white beard he has
got for a nigger!"
The corpse was fastened to the litter with strips of curragong bark;
and they were turning away after noticing these details, when Brown
suggested that they had better move it off the track.
"You know," he explained, "we might come bustling back here in a
bigger hurry than those fellows were, and tumble over the old
gentleman in the dark."
The litter and its burden were shifted a few paces in the scrub, and,
full of expectation, the party resumed their interrupted journey.
The break where they had halted was the beginning of the outskirts of
the scrub; the country soon became more open, and as it did so the
track they were following grew less marked. It was still, however,
quite plain enough for any bushman to follow easily. At noon, to the
great relief of the horses, they came to a small pool of rain-water,
and some fairly good grass. Here they turned out for a long spell.
"Question is," said Brown, when the usual discussion commenced,
"Where did those nigs camp? No sign of them here. By the way,
Billy, did you notice any gins' tracks amongst them?"
"No," returned the boy. "Altogether blackfellow."
"Must be more water ahead; and I hope so, for this won't last another
week, and we want something permanent to fall back on. Now, I'm
going aloft on the look-out," said Morton.
Charlie watched him curiously as he slung the field-glass over his
shoulder, and taking a tomahawk proceeded to an exceptionally tall
bloodwood-tree near the camp. At the foot he took off his boots, and
cutting niches in the trunk, as a blackfellow does when climbing, he
was soon up amongst the topmost branches. Ensconcing himself firmly,
he took a comprehensive sweep around with the glasses, and then
directed his attention to the westward.
"Below there!" he shouted, after a lengthened scrutiny.
"Hi, hi, sir!" returned Charlie.
"Brown! Will your long legs bring you up here safely?"
"Well, I'll try." And in a short time Brown was up alongside his
friend, and a very earnest discussion followed, extremely tantalizing
to Charlie down below. After taking a compass-bearing to some
distant object they descended; and Charlie, who was already
barefooted, immediately attempted the ascent, slipping ignominiously
down after getting up two or three steps, to the intense delight of
Billy. With the black boy's assistance, however, and much sarcastic
advice from his cousin and Brown, he managed to reach the first
branches, and thence easily gained the perch Morton had occupied on
the top.
What did he see when he got there?
To the westward the forest soon came to an abrupt stop, and beyond
stretched a great gray plain, bounded by something that Charlie could
not make out, and which had evidently puzzled Brown and Morton. It
was not water, although it looked something like it; it was a broad
sheet of pale blue, glistening in places under the sun's rays, and
beyond, above a quivering haze, was a dark object like a distant
ridge.
"What name, Billy?" said Charlie to the black boy, who had climbed up
after him. "Water?"
"_Bal_," said Billy decidedly. "Water sit down here, close up," he
added, pointing to the edge of the forest.
"What name, then?" repeated Charlie.
"Mine think it mud, where water bin go bung," was the blackfellow's
opinion, and with this they both descended.
"Well, Charlie, what do you make of it?" asked Morton.
"Billy thinks it's mud where the water has dried up," returned
Charlie, as he had no opinion of his own to offer.
"And Billy's right, I believe. It must be the bed of a dry salt
lake; but we'll get along to the edge of the timber and camp."
On the margin of the plain they came to some fine lagoons, with good
grass for the horses, but nothing could be seen of the mysterious
object ahead, excepting from the top of a tree.
On the banks of the lagoons they found abundant traces of the
natives, and it was evidently a main camping-place on their way to
and from their burial-place. Many of the trees were marked with
triangles, a sign which considerably puzzled the elder travellers.
The open country, the ample supply of water, and the relief from the
gloomy surroundings of the scrub had restored the cheerful tone of
the party, and imparted a sense of security to them.
But neither Brown nor Morton were men to neglect due precautions, now
that their presence was known to the probably hostile inhabitants.
So a watch was kept all night by the three whites in turn, Billy
escaping the vigil, as blacks are not to be trusted to keep awake.