Continuation of Stuart's Journal.
The narrative now assumed a more connected form, telling of the death
of Dr. Leichhardt and the rescue of the three survivors by the
friendly natives; also of the discovery by Stuart of some curious
cave paintings, which bore evidence of being the work of a race
superior to the present inhabitants of the interior.
_Continuation of Stuart's Journal._
"----Ever since the Doctor injured his hand through the musket
bursting he has been subject to attacks of feverishness and temporary
madness, and this has greatly added to the hopelessness of our
position. I have often asked him for some definite statement of his
intentions, but he seems quite unable to go into any details, and I
am afraid we are fearfully out in our reckoning. Hentig still
terribly bad with scurvy.
"May 1, 1849.--Since my last entry we have buried Hentig, and the
Doctor must soon follow. If we could only get across this dry
country ahead of us we might be able to move on, but since we are
almost without rations and most of our horses dead it seems as though
we must leave our bones here, for there is no turning back. Doctor
much worse. Kelly says that there is only two days' more water left
in the hole. No sign of rain. Weather getting cooler."
[Illustration: THE DEATH OF DR. LEICHHARDT IN THE DESERT.]
"May 2.--This morning, before the sun got up, I climbed the tall tree
on the edge of the plain, and distinctly saw a faint smoke to the
westward, in the same direction that Kelly thought he noticed it when
we first came here. To-morrow we will start towards it; it is all we
can do. How we shall get the Doctor on I cannot tell; he is almost
helpless, and his mind is quite gone. We have four horses and two
mules. Besides the Doctor, whom I look upon as a dead man, there are
Kelly, Murphy, and myself (Stuart). Hentig is buried under the tree
with the cross cut on it. Klausen died on the river Roper five
months ago. I will bury a copy of this in a powder-flask in Hentig's
grave, as well as the Doctor's papers."
(Here there was an evident gap in the narration.)
"I have been too ill to write for many days, how long I don't know,
for we have all of us lost count. I am only just beginning to
remember our journey across that horrible desert. We started in the
direction I had seen smoke, after using up every drop of water for
the animals at the camp where Hentig is buried. We took it in turns
to hold the Doctor on his horse, but he got very bad a few hours
after we started, and when the sun grew hot he begged us to lift him
off the horse for a little while. We had all the canteens full, and
Kelly had made a bag of calico and rubbed it outside with goat's fat,
and it held water tolerably well. So we gave the Doctor plenty to
drink, but he got no better, and about noon he died. He talked a
good deal to himself in German, but had lost all knowledge of us or
where he was, and a good thing too. We could not stop to bury him,
for we had to push on, so we left him there on the big plain, where I
think no living thing ever comes or ever will come since we were
there. It was the second day out when we got on to that prickly
grass plain with deep red sand, and then our horses began to give up,
and we had to walk and try and drive all the beasts; but they were so
thirsty they would not keep together, so we stopped and talked about
what was best to be done. Kelly and I agreed that it was best to
unpack all the animals, and, taking all the water and as much food as
we could carry, to march on, and perhaps if we soon came to water we
could come back for the beasts. Murphy did not think so; he thought
we could drive them on on foot when it got dark, but we persuaded him
that we were right, and started. We walked on long after it got
dark, and then we lay down and slept on the sandy plain amongst the
prickly grass, for since leaving the camp we have never passed a
tree. In the night Kelly called me and pointed to a light in the
west, which was evidently the reflection of a large fire. Next
morning we met it, for a wind had sprung up in the morning. It was
well for us that it was almost barren country where we met the
flames, otherwise we would have been burnt. As it was we were nearly
stifled with heat and smoke. Afterwards, all that day and night, we
watched the glare of it behind us blazing amongst the dry prickly
grass we had passed through, carried on by the strong wind that now
blew, and we knew that our animals, saddles, and the Doctor's body
would be burnt up, and no one would ever see more of them; so it was
with sorrowful hearts we walked on. That day I saw some trees on
ahead, and we turned--"
(Here the journal had been effaced, apparently by water, but nothing
of importance appeared lost.)
"Murphy was the weakest, but we stood by him, although the burnt
country was very distressing. Kelly got a little light-headed
towards morning, and I began to feel the same. I don't remember much
more; it all seems a dream of stumbling along and helping each other,
sometimes talking to the phantoms we all fancied we saw walking with
us; and then I came partly to my senses under a rough shade of
boughs, and before me was this great lake, and I knew by the smell of
the place and almost without looking around that I was in a camp of
the natives. Kelly and Murphy were alive, and better than I was.
They remembered something about the natives helping us to the water,
for we had passed it, and were going right away--"
(Another gap.)
"June.--I have put down June, for I think it must be that time of the
year, as near as I can make it. Neither Kelly nor Murphy can read or
write, so while I was ill they did not keep the dates. The natives
are quite friendly, and Kelly, who was born in the bush of the
southern portion of the colony, has attained great influence over
them, as he is very active, and can use nearly all their weapons. I
have been round the lake; it is nearly sixty miles round, but very
shallow, except at the end where our camp is. The natives tell me it
dries up some seasons, with the exception of the deep hole here.
They have canoes made out of shells of trees, and can manage them
very well, standing upright and poling or sculling with a spear.
They know nothing of any other blacks, excepting a tribe to the
eastward, of whom they seem greatly frightened. They are a very
simple people, and live well, as there is plenty of fish in the lake
and wild fowl. Kelly and Murphy have quite settled down to the life,
but how different it is for me! When I think of my own people, and
how I am doomed to live and die amongst savages, I nearly go mad; for
unless other white men find their way here I must die here; and who
would cross that horrible sand plain? If the Doctor had but lived we
might have found some way of escape, but he and our horses and
saddles are all burnt up. What is the good of keeping this record?
No one will ever read it. I will become a savage like those around
me, and forget what I was.
"July.--I must write or I shall forget my language, and that I must
keep while life lasts. A strange thing happened to-day. The old man
Powlbarri came to me and made me understand that he wanted me to go
with him, he had something to show me. I followed him to the ridge
where the great sandstone rocks are, and he led through a gap between
two of them so narrow that we could scarcely squeeze along. In a
short time we stood in a spacious cave that penetrated seemingly into
the depths of the ridge. There was a bar of limestone in the side
and a few stalactites, but not many, and light was admitted dimly
through cracks and crevices overhead. But when my eyes were more
accustomed to the light I started with affright, for partly overhead
and partly confronting me was a strange gigantic shape with
outstretched hand. I recoiled for an instant, and then saw how I had
been deceived; it was a rock painting on the sloping roof of the
cave. It bore no resemblance to the ordinary crude tracings of the
natives. I looked at it narrowly, and tried to get out of the old
man who did it. He gave me to understand that it had been always
there--as well as I could comprehend him,--longer than the blacks
knew of. The figure was of heroic size, with straight symmetrical
features, the head surrounded by a halo or turban, and the body
attired in a rough semblance of a robe. The whole figure was of
grave aspect, and much reminded me of the drawings I had seen of
Egyptian gods. The old man beckoned to me to withdraw, and I was not
sorry to do so, for I wanted time to think, and intended to come back
with Kelly and Murphy and explore the place thoroughly. We passed
out of the cave, and had just squeezed through the gap when our ears
were greeted with a shrill discordant yell of terror from the camp.
With an answering shout my companion with extraordinary agility
bounded from my side, and I ran after him. There was little doubt
what had happened; the dreaded tribe from the east had surprised and
attacked the camp. When I arrived on the scene the fight was just
assuming extensive proportions. At first the boys, gins, and old men
had been easily overpowered, some killed and some captured; but a
hunting-party came up, amongst whom were my two companions, who now
went naked, and were nearly as dark as the natives. Kelly, who would
have made a brave and dashing soldier if fate had so willed, plunged
at once into the thick of the fray, followed by Murphy, who was
slower in his movements. There appearance disconcerted the enemy,
who were horribly distinguished by a red smear on the forehead and a
white triangle on the breast. They rallied, however, but Kelly's
onset, so different from the ordinary method of native warfare, had
evidently staggered them. I was about to join our side when I
remembered that nearly the only part of our equipment saved was my
double-barrelled pistol and ammunition bag. This I had never used,
reserving it for our own protection, and I ran to my whirlie and came
back with it loaded. A tall blackfellow was engaged with Kelly, and
rushing up I fired at and shot him. There was an instantaneous lull
of surprise, and at the discharge of the other barrel the attackers
straightway fled, and even our own side seemed inclined to follow
their example. Alas, our victory was dearly bought! Kelly was
speared through the chest, mortally I saw at once; and so it turned
out, for the poor boy died with his head on my knee in a few minutes.
We buried him that evening, and never did I feel more sorry than for
my bright young companion, who, although uneducated, had many noble
qualities, and--"
(Here there was a large portion of the journal quite undecipherable;
the few words distinguishable seem to point to a visit to the cave
with Murphy.)
"The strange mystery of the cave paintings still puzzles me. The
additional smaller drawings we discovered are most singular, and
certainly point to other authorship than that of the natives. In
many places there are signs like a written language, and the peculiar
portrayal of dress indicates an Asiatic origin."
(Another gap.)
"I miss Kelly still. Murphy is dull and intractable; he has sunk to
the level of his savage companions. O God, have pity on me, for I
shall never never see my countrymen again! Surrounded by deserts,
impassable to me on foot, I must drag out my life here, hoping for
the succour that will come too late to save me."
(Here the narrative broke off, although several more blank leaves in
the pocket-book were available.)