Conclusion of Stuart's Journal--Examination of the Slaughter
Chamber--The Ancient Australians.
I have made no other discoveries since my return, and all the efforts
I have spent in trying to decipher the inscriptions have been in
vain. I can only conjecture that these relics are of great
antiquity, and that the belief and some of the rites, notably
cannibalism, survive amongst the Warlattas, who are mixed and
degenerate descendants of the ancient race. I have very little paper
left, and that scrap I must keep for any necessity that arises. If
anybody finds this let him take a copy of the inscriptions, for there
may be some men in the world who can decipher their meaning.
"1865.--I have devoted myself to bettering the condition of this
tribe, whom I may say I have adopted. I have taught them to build
better huts, and clothe themselves partly in skins. The Warlattas'
inroads have been absolutely stopped. They have learnt to cultivate
yams here, and some of the young men understand written signs. One
thing I could not induce them to do with all my influence, that is,
for a party of them to go east with me and find out the track by
which the Warlattas cross the sandy desert. Some superstitious
feeling I cannot overcome will not allow them to do this.
"I might have done much more, but latterly I have been nearly
crippled with rheumatism. I have instructed the natives to bury me
in the cave under an inscription I have cut--my name and the date of
my arrival. When I feel myself near my end, unless I die by
accident, I will try and inscribe the last date on the stone, it will
stand for my death year. If my companions had lived, we might have
worked our way back to the settlements, but alone--it was hopeless to
attempt it. I know my end must be near, nor am I sorry, for I have
outlived all hopes of succour. I thank God that though I have lived
so long amongst these savages, I have not sunk down to be one of them
in their habits, but rather have taught them better things. To the
white man that finds this I leave the greeting and the blessing I
would have given him in life."
. . . . . . . .
"What would I not have given to have got here in time to rescue him!"
said Brown. "He was a man worth saving."
[Illustration: MORTON AND HIS PARTY EXAMINE THE SLAUGHTER CHAMBER.]
Next morning they took some more presents to the natives at the hill,
and the old men went round with them and showed them the roofless
stone huts, the dismantled barricade, and the remains of other
improvements now all in ruins. The death of Stuart seemed to have
been a signal for a return to their old habits of life, his stay
amongst them not having been long enough to make a lasting impression.
Even the bows and arrows had disappeared; and it was evident that the
Warlattas had resumed warlike operations with a success resulting in
the almost complete extermination of the tribe. Morton endeavoured
to explain to them that their enemies were dead, but it was doubtful
whether the old men comprehended him. An immediate incursion into
the inner cave was determined on, and, provided with candles, the
party soon found themselves at the opening. The sand had worked in
and somewhat blocked up the space, but this was soon sufficiently
removed to enable them to wriggle underneath like snakes. Half a
dozen candles served to brilliantly light up the inner chamber, and
there, with startling distinctness, shone out the white triangle over
the sacrificial stone. Brown started the stone rocking, and
immediately the shrill, half-human screams echoed through the cave,
much to Billy's discomfiture. No examination could detect the trick
that caused the sound, nor could the presence of the stone be
accounted for except as a most singular freak of nature.
"I have it," said Morton at last; "the stone was part of the rock and
has been cut away underneath. It must have been an awful job, but
that is how it was done."
"And about the squeaking machinery?"
"That's more than we can find out without shifting the stone, and
that's a job I am not on for unless we stop here a month or two and
chip it in pieces."
"A charge of dynamite would shift it; and next time I go exploring
I'll carry some," replied Brown.
"What do you think the thing was made for?" inquired Charlie.
"Well, I've just had an inspiration," said Brown. "You know amongst
some nations it is a matter of religious belief almost that you must
make your enemy howl when you have got him down. Now, perhaps some
of the poor devils who were cut up on this stone declined to sing
out, or fainted, or for some reason did not furnish amusement
enough--the stone was set rocking to fill out the programme. What do
you think?"
"I think it most likely, and is an instance of devilish cruelty on a
level with their other proceedings."
"I suppose poor Stuart searched this place so thoroughly that we need
not expect to find anything fresh," said Charlie. "But we may as
well have a look. Billy, you have got sharp eyes, just use them."
While these two were investigating the walls and floor, Morton and
Brown took a careful copy of the hieroglyphics and a sketch of the
cave, showing the position of the sacrificial stone and triangle. By
the time they had finished they were ready for their mid-day meal,
and returned to camp for it.
"There's no doubt," remarked Morton, "that what we have just seen are
relics of an ancient people, but what I can't understand is, why, if
they were civilized enough to wear dresses, and to have a developed
religious belief--savage as it was--" ("No worse than the
Carthagenians," interjected Brown), "to know how to obtain iron and
temper it, that they did not build permanent buildings, the ruins of
which would remain?"
"Mud, my dear fellow, mud," replied Brown. "Remember the nations who
have disappeared off the face of America, and can only be traced by
their pottery and burial mounds. Why, the gorgeous cities of ancient
Mexico were built of mud bricks, which go back to their mother earth,
once the domiciles they form are abandoned."
"But their smelting-works for manufacturing iron?"
"There you have me. But we must try and find that knife; perhaps
they buried it with Stuart."
"Billy got something from one of the old men, but I don't know what
it was," said Charlie.
"Billy! What old man bin give it?" asked Morton.
Billy grinned, and produced from the inside of his shirt the knife
mentioned in the journal. It was a curious-looking blade about a
foot long, broad and somewhat curved. Even after the work Stuart had
done with it in carving on the rocks, it was as sharp as an ordinary
knife.
"That's a Malay weapon," said Brown, after examination. "Whoever our
ancient Australians were they came from the north. I suppose we must
wait until we get the writing deciphered, if there is a man clever
enough to do it."
Looking closer, they found that the blade had the mysterious triangle
engraved on it. This constantly recurring symbol led to much
speculation as to whether they were not an offshoot of Freemasons,
who in some remote time had wandered into central Australia; but as
Charlie ingenuously reminded them that these fellows had not built
anything, the theory had to be discarded.
"What's to be done next?" said Morton. "I'm for going to find
Hentig's grave, if possible, and recovering the papers buried there."
"Yes, and then go back round by the way Stuart went to the mountain
tribe and track up the gold reef."
"Not a bad idea, anyhow. I think it will be the safest way to go
home."
That afternoon, Billy, with the aid of one of the old men, found a
canoe not far below the surface, and brought it up and bailed it out.
Then it transpired that on the last onslaught of the Warlattas they
had sunk all the canoes. The one recovered was a large one, fitted
up with outriggers, and leaked but very little. Charlie soon
improvised a mast by lashing two spears together, and with a blanket
for a sail announced himself ready to face the dangers of the deep.
Morton agreed to join him in his voyage of discovery round the lake
the next morning, but Brown preferred to stay and continue the
investigation of the cave drawings.
Next morning there was a gentle breeze blowing, and Morton and
Charlie were soon afloat and off. Brown wandered over the hill,
telling Billy to try and make the blacks understand the catastrophe
of the burning mountain.
Several lesser caves attracted his attention, but only one seemed to
promise any result. To this one he devoted himself, and after some
trouble found some inscriptions resembling the former one in
character, but differing in the arrangement of the letters. In this
case they were placed perpendicularly in two parallel lines.
After copying the inscription, Brown stood in thought for some time,
mechanically thrusting a yam stick he held in his hand into the sandy
floor of the cave. The soil over the bed rock in this cave was
apparently only a few inches in depth, but suddenly he was roused
from his reverie by the yam stick going down more than a foot without
meeting with any opposition. Sounding hastily, he soon found that a
trench extended at right angles to the rock, immediately under the
inscription. Going outside he shouted loudly, and Billy and some of
the blacks came running up. He set them to work to clear all the
sand away from the trench and its neighbourhood with their hands, and
it was soon visible artificially cut in the rock. It was about three
feet long and a foot broad, so the work of clearing it out did not
promise to take long.
With so many hands going, the depth of three feet was soon reached
without anything being discovered; then the fingers of the workers
came in contact with something hard, and very soon a sheet of metal
was disclosed, cut exactly to fit the hole. Brown at once recognized
it as resembling the gongs used at the burning mountain. Greatly
excited, in spite of his usual assumption of calmness, Brown inserted
the point of the yam stick under the metal and prised it up.