The Attack by the Surviving Warlattas--Death of Lee-lee--The Last of
the Cannibals.
Next morning was a lazy one. About eleven o'clock Morton, who was
talking to Brown under the shade of a tree, proposed that they should
kill a few hours by a ride up the creek, and called to Billy to bring
up a couple of horses. Charlie, who was in the tent, sung out in
reply that he had gone hunting with Lee-lee, as their clothes were
lying on the ground,--for a blackfellow always likes to strip
whenever he gets a chance.
"I will go and get the horses, they are just down the creek," said
Charlie, when he heard what his cousin wanted.
He picked up two bridles and went off down the creek.
Brown and Morton put their saddles down in readiness.
The horses were not far, and Charlie soon came back leading two. He
had almost reached the camp when a shrill yell of terror made them
all start.
Out from the forest came Billy, racing and shouting, and behind him
limped Lee-lee. There was no need to ask what it meant; behind them,
in close pursuit, came other dark forms with up-raised spears.
"Those Warlattas!" yelled Brown, as he and Morton sprang for their
rifles. Charlie was transfixed with surprise. Two of the cannibals,
with their spears up, were now close to the fugitives, the others
pressing on so eagerly that they did not see the white men. It all
seemed to Charlie to pass like a flash. The spears flew, and the
rifles cracked so closely one after the other that it sounded almost
like one report. Down went Billy and Lee-lee, and the two Warlattas
behind them pitched forward headlong on the ground. Startled by the
firearms the others halted, turned and fled. But the breech-loaders
spoke once more, and one Warlatta fell with a broken leg, and the
other dropped in a heap and lay quiet, with a conical bullet between
his shoulders.
"Quick! not one must get away," said Morton, and he and Brown
snatched the bridles from Charlie's hand, and jumping on bare-backed,
galloped like avenging furies after the two retreating survivors.
"Look after Billy!" yelled Morton to Charlie, as he urged his excited
horse along.
The blacks fled into the forest, but the cover came too late for
them, with two of the best riders in central Australia thirsting for
their blood. Charlie, as he went down to Billy, saw his cousin race
up to one man and they disappeared between the trees, but the report
of a revolver immediately after told its tale. Next minute came two
more pistol-shots from the direction Brown had gone.
Billy had sat up by the time Charlie reached him; he had been speared
in the leg, but poor Lee-lee was dead. The spear of the Warlatta had
pierced his heart.
Morton's and Brown's voices were now heard coming back. They pulled
up at the wounded savage, and Morton slipped from his horse. Charlie
turned his head away, for he guessed what was going to happen. No
quarter for the cannibals. He heard the revolver ring out, and knew
that Lee-lee was avenged.
His cousin came up, leading his horse and putting his revolver back
in his pouch. Both men were flushed, and their eyes still blazed
with the fierce light of conflict.
"Poor Lee-lee!" said Brown, as they stood beside his body. "We seem
to have been his evil genius."
"We've been the evil genius of the Warlattas, thank goodness," said
Morton grimly. "They're all wiped out now, however."
The tragedy affected them all strongly. The unfortunate half-caste
meeting his death in such an unexpected manner, when all seemed safe
and at peace, was sad.
Billy, however, demanded their attention. Fortunately the spear was
not a barbed one, and had only gone into the fleshy part of his
thigh. It was soon extracted, the wound bound up, and he was made as
comfortable as possible.
Billy explained that he and Lee-lee were on their way home when they
saw the Warlattas, who had evidently been stalking them for some
time. Had Billy been armed with firearms he might have frightened
them away; but as he had nothing but a tomahawk, he thought
discretion the better part of valour and ran for it, forgetting in
his excitement that Lee-lee was lame and could not keep up with him.
They buried the last poor relic of Leichhardt's doomed party at the
foot of the mountain, but the bodies of the Warlattas were left to
the crows and hawks.
"Perhaps it is all for the best, sad as it seems," said Morton.
"Those six devils could not keep their lust for murder under, and but
for this row we might not have run across them. Then they would have
gone to the lake again and finished their villainous work."
"I wonder where they got their weapons from."
"There must have been some left in the bottle tree camp in the
basalt. We did not look about much, if you remember."
"Well, that's the end of it all, I suppose."
"Unless somebody comes across Lee-lee's brothers or sisters amongst
the tribe to the north."
The party perforce had now to remain where they were until Billy was
able to ride again, and a dull time it was. A trip to the hot swamp
showed them that, during their absence at the lake, the water had
subsided and the swamp become so dry that the fire had ravaged it,
burning the ragged, inflammable bark of the trees, and licking up the
reeds surrounding the lakelet, which was now but a surface of cracked
mud.
"There is one question that always worries me," said Brown, as they
came to the spot where the Warlatta track led into the basalt rocks.
"Do you think that Murphy was compelled to join in their cannibal
feasts?"
"I have thought of it too," replied Morton, "and have come to the
conclusion that he was not. At least, while he retained his reason.
When we saw him, you know, he was nearly blind, and his mental
faculties almost gone. My reason for this is the anchor we found cut
on the tree at the lagoons; I daresay there were more, and there were
numberless marks of the others. There was an ample game supply up
and down that creek, and I believe he spent most of his time there
hunting, until he became too infirm to leave the cave."
"I am glad you think that, as I am of the same belief. I think any
white man, no matter how slow his intellect, would prefer death."
"Still, cases have been known where men have been maddened by
starvation in an open boat at sea; but in this case he would not have
been desperate with hunger. No, I think, and am glad to think, that
he had no part in their evil doings or rites until he was
irresponsible for his actions."
"They would not have allowed him to go with them on their raids for
fear of his escaping. Evidently they regarded him as a sort of
fetish."
They dismounted and hung their horses to a tree, and went a short
distance amongst the rocks. As they advanced all signs of a track
disappeared, for the place became one jumbled mass of huge boulders
piled on top of one another, rough as a rasp underfoot, and baking
hot from the vertical sun. What with the natural heat of the day and
the radiation from the rocks, they were soon glad to turn back to
where they had left their horses.
"No wonder poor Stuart, barefooted and alone, could not make his way
any distance," remarked Morton.
"I wonder what would have happened had he met the Warlattas?"
"He had established a good funk amongst them, and so he might have
routed them. But if they had killed him, I swear a good many would
have lost the number of their mess first."
"It always makes me feel sad when I think of such a man being forced
by fate to spend his life amongst savages."
Billy's wound, like the flesh of most blackfellows, was rapidly
healing, but he was not yet able to ride. The shadow cast on their
spirits by the murder of poor Lee-lee, rendered them all anxious to
be on the move and leave the ill-omened camp behind them. The
weather had been continuously fine ever since they left. That night,
however, a black thunder-storm gathered up, and towards evening the
heavens were overcast and the sky was one constant blaze of
lightning, and a continuous mutter of thunder sounded from all
points. Every preparation had been made, and they watched with
interest the mustering of the storm spirits.
"I believe it's going to be one of those dry dust-storms after all,"
said Brown.
To the east every blaze of light now showed a low black cloud
approaching.
"It's the wind coming," said Morton, "bringing all the ashes from the
burnt country; we shall be smothered with dust and charcoal."
Even as he spoke there came a blinding glare of white light,
accompanied by a crash of thunder that seemed to shake the hill to
its foundation. A rush of cold wind, bearing dust and ashes on its
wings, swept the camp and nearly carried away the tent. Then the
rain fell in one heavy downpour. For nearly an hour the deluge kept
up, the continuous flashes making it as bright as day, the constant
roar and rattle of the thunder never ceasing. Then the tumult died
away in the west, the stars peeped out, and the tropical storm was
over. Next morning the sky was clear and the air fresh and pleasant.
"I'm hanged if I can stop in camp any longer," said Morton. "Billy,
if you don't get that 'mundoee' of yours well soon, we'll go away and
leave you here."
Billy looked rather askance at the threat, until he realized that
Morton was joking.
Brown, who had been surgeon, said: "I think we can rig up a sling or
cradle for his leg soon, so that he will be able to travel short
stages."
"I'm glad to hear it. That thunder-storm must have put water into
the rock-holes at the granite rock. What do you say to a ride there
and then on to the salt lake we saw at a distance?"
"Right; it will kill time. But we'll start to-morrow; let the ground
dry up a bit. We'll experimentalize on a cradle for Billy's leg
to-day."