The Limestone Plain--The Devil's Tracks--A Strange Mark.
The morning found them early on the move, the night having passed
without any alarm, false or real. They still followed the faint
track leading straight toward the dark ridge they had seen beyond the
blue expanse. This supposed dry lake had been visible from the camp
before sunrise, but as the sun rose it disappeared, nor did they
again sight it until nearly eight o'clock. At ten they were close to
it, and all doubt as to its character was set at rest. They pulled
up, not at the edge of a dry salt lake, but of an unbroken sheet of
limestone rock. Nothing was visible ahead but this stony sea of
bluish-gray, over which a heated haze was undulating. The dark line
beyond, resembling a ridge, had vanished, and the wind that blew in
their faces across the surface of this strange plain, was as hot as
though it came from the open door of a furnace.
[Illustration: THEY FIND THE DEVIL'S TRACK ON THE ROCK-PLAIN.]
Morton turned and rode along the edge of the rock to where the pad
came in, for they had left the track for the last hundred yards. He
whistled, and the others joined him. The track still continued right
on across the rock, but its course was now indicated by other means.
On the surface of the limestone had been scratched and chipped with
infinite care, an imitation of human footsteps, or rather more than
human footsteps, for the gigantic tracks were more than twice the
size of a man's, and a stride to correspond was indicated. Side by
side, about six feet apart, these two awful footsteps disappeared
into the quivering mirage.
"I've seen that mark before on the granite mounds in Western
Australia," said Brown. "You notice that there are six toes to it.
It's supposed to be the footprint of the devil."
"By Jove, what tedious work it must have been cutting those marks!"
returned Morton. "They're not lazy beggars ahead of us whatever else
they may be. But what shall we do now?"
"Go back to the lagoons. It's a rattling good camp, and we have
heaps of time before us. We'll hold a council of war this afternoon
and decide upon some course of action."
"Right," answered Morton. "We shall have to go slowly and cannily or
we shall be getting into a tight place."
They returned to their former camp, and, as evening drew on, entered
into a discussion as to their immediate movements.
"Brown, you're the longest, speak first," said Morton.
"Those beggars are located beyond that limestone rock. Is not that
so?"
"Yes."
"They may be the most mild and peaceful people going, and they may be
the most truculent ruffians. I incline to the latter opinion."
"So do I, but I cannot say why exactly. They took to their heels
quick enough the other night."
"Oh, any niggers will do that on a sudden start. However, it's
safest to act as though they were our enemies."
"Decidedly."
"To-morrow we'll go right and left along the edge of the rock for a
few miles on each side of the track, and see if there's any other
track they use. If there's only the one, why, we know where to
expect them from."
To this Morton agreed, but suggested that two should follow the track
across the rock.
"No, old man, you're too eager," said Brown. "We're too small a
party to afford to split up. When we go across that rock we must all
go, and take pot luck."
"You're right," agreed Morton. "To-morrow you and I will go along
the edge of the rock. Charlie, you and Billy will stop and mind camp
and examine all the trees about for marks, in fact have a good
fossick round."
"When we cross the rock we shall have to go on foot, we can't take
the horses across," said Brown.
"Certainly not, and I doubt if we can cross on foot in the daytime.
We should be baked to death with the rock underneath and the sun
overhead. We should get no shade to rest under the whole way across."
"The horses will be safe enough here while we are away. If the
niggers use only the one track, why, we are bound to meet them."
Another quiet night was passed, although a watch was kept. In the
cool morning Brown and Morton started across the plain, leaving
Charlie to scour about the camp. Billy, arrayed in a light and airy
costume consisting of a saddle-strap and a tomahawk, had evidently
laid himself out for a day's pleasurable sport.
"This plain seems fairly well grassed," said Morton as they rode
across. "Wonder how far it extends?"
"We'll find out before we get back. But country is not of much value
out here just now, no matter how good it is."
"No, worse luck; you and I know that to our cost."
When they reached the rock they separated, Brown going north and
Morton south. Following the edge along, without going into all the
dips and bends, Morton went on until he reckoned he had covered some
six miles. The limestone rock pursued much the same course to the
southward, but the forest and the continuation of the chain of
lagoons at its edge bore in towards the rock, and it was evident that
the two would meet in time.
Morton rode over to the edge of the timber, and found that the
water-course there was still well supplied with occasional pools of
water. He could see no tracks of blacks there, nor were there any
marks on the rock: all was lifeless and lonely, save for the tireless
kites. As he rode back, however, he caught sight of a bird high up
in the air steadily flying to the west. He recognized it as an
eagle-hawk, and was astonished to see others following, all flying in
the same direction. Then the discordant note of a crow came to him,
and a flock of the black creatures flew past, conversing in the
peculiar guttural croak common to crows when on the wing. They, too,
were going across the rock to the westward.
"Hang me, if there isn't a rendezvous over there somewhere of all the
carrion birds in the district," said Morton.
He rode on and found Brown at the meeting-place, he having got back
sooner. His experience had been somewhat similar for the first few
miles; then the country changed, a low stunted forest obtruded from
the east, and the ground became hard, stony, and barren, save for
patches of spinifex.[1] The limestone rock, too, became more uneven
and broken, and it was evident that he had approached the verge of
the formation they were then traversing; probably, he thought, the
change would result in a large expanse of desert, spinifex country.
[1] A wiry, prickly grass, useless as fodder.
"We could get round that way," he remarked, "without having to cross
this rock."
"Better stick to the track; then we know we are going straight to
wherever these triangle men came from," replied Morton.
"Did you see any niggers' tracks?"
"Not a sign of any. I don't think I saw or heard a living thing of
any kind since leaving."
Morton told him about the flight of hawks and crows he had noticed,
and as they rode back to camp they decided to make an excursion to
the south before tackling the great rock and the mystery beyond. It
was as well to know all about the country before making their final
start; and, moreover, if the natives came back and saw their tracks
going away south it might throw them off their guard.
Charlie and Billy had found nothing about the camp beyond a peculiar
mark cut on a tree, which somewhat differed from the others they had
seen. They had caught some fish in the largest of the lagoons, and
Billy had a fine big carpet snake roasting in the ashes; for no
matter how well fed a blackfellow is, he always likes to revert to
his aboriginal delicacies occasionally.
Charlie took them to inspect the new mark, which was on a large
flooded box-tree. It had been chopped out with a stone tomahawk in
the rugged bark, and must have taken much time and labour. Both men
looked at it from all points of view without arriving at any
conclusion; then, just as they were turning away, Morton exclaimed:
"If I saw that tatooed on a sailor's arm I should say that it was
meant for an anchor."
The two others instantly recognized the resemblance, and they all
came to the conclusion that it was a rude attempt to depict that
emblem.
"Mystery thickens," said Brown. "Are we going to reach the
much-talked-of inland sea and find a race of sailor-men in
possession?"
"Devilish queer," replied Morton; "it seems to me the sort of mark an
illiterate white man who had been a sailor would make on a tree.
It's chopped out very neatly, much as a sailor would do anything of
the sort."
"I suppose we shall find out all about it before we get to the end of
this trip," returned Brown.
"Yes, and a good deal more than we now dream of, I anticipate."
"Did you have a good look to the south and north when you were up
that tree?" asked Brown.
"No, I didn't. My attention was at once taken up by the
strange-looking rock ahead of us."
"So was mine. I think we might go up another at sundown; we might
see something."
When the sun nearly touched the horizon they ascended the tallest
tree in the neighbourhood, but nothing was discernible southward. To
the north, however, a low range was visible a long distance away.
A quiet undisturbed night succeeded, and an early start was made the
next morning.