“You may as well unpack,” Vail said, “there can be no danger on the
score of water.” I had no answer to this and grumbling I untied the
packs and ate my breakfast in moody silence. I could see that Vail was
watching and that while he regretted my disappointment he was equally
determined to have his own way. That day we walked up among the hills
and found the water bursting out of the ground in numberless places. We
knew that it had not rained. The coming of the water was so strange and
unaccountable that I was compelled to confess that I was unable to find
any reasonable explanation. On the other hand Vail regarded the outflow
as an intervention of providence on our behalf. We waited for several
days until the low-lying places were filled with water and then began
our search again. Not three miles from the camp we came upon a low plain
which we had repeatedly, crossed in the dry time but never for a moment
had we associated it with the hidden opals. Simultaneously we stopped
and Vail pointed to the higher ground in the centre, now surrounded by a
sheet of water only about a foot deep, but constantly rising. We waded
across and in half an hour had located the blue gum trees which answered
the description laid down on the map. Then we hurried to the camp and
returned with picks and shovels and began digging. The ground was very
hard and our progress slow.
Evening was coming on but such was our impatience that we resolved to
continue the work. The moon came up and by its dim light we toiled
steadily, at last we struck ground that was not so compact, this
encouraged us and we sank our pick at that point perpendicular. At the
depth of five feet we unearthed a small wooden box, we burst off the
cover and in the pale moonlight saw five bands of opal more beautiful
than anything we had ever dreamed of. Each band was fully four inches in
breadth and about eighteen inches long.
“Hurrah!” shouted Vail trembling with excitement.
We started for the camp, crossed the lagoon and entered a thick piece of
scrub to take a short cut. I heard not the slightest sound, suddenly
something stung me in the calf of the leg, the pain was intense and I
cried out, “I have been bitten by a snake.” I put my hand down and found
instead that a small spear was sticking in my leg.
My presence of mind returned instantly and I whispered, “down on the
ground, quick and crawl into the bush to the right.” I could feel the
blood trickling from the wound and hurriedly bound it up with my
handkerchief. Vail crouched by my side and was trembling violently.
Fortunately our revolvers were in our belts and we drew them and waited
and listened. The silence was oppressive and every minute seemed a half
hour. All that could be heard was the beating of our hearts.
My loss of blood must have been great for I whispered to Vail, “I am
growing faint.” He put his arm about me and asked, “Shall we venture
it?” “No we are in an ambush and shall be speared if we move.” The next
instant half a dozen spears sped through the air over our heads and
thrashed through the brush wood. We flung ourselves prone on the ground
and waited, all was silent again. Then I fainted from loss of blood. Ere
I lost consciousness I had a faint impression that tears were dropping
on my face. When I regained consciousness, I found that another
handkerchief had been bound around my leg above the wound and a small
stick passed beneath it and then twisted until the handkerchief had been
pressed into the flesh, thus stopping the flow of blood and probably
saving my life. There we lay hour after hour till at last the welcome
dawn came creeping in through the haze. I was too weak to sit up and
remembering Vail’s fright when the attack was made, gave up all hope.
With the daylight our position would become known to the natives and in
a few minutes all would be over. When I looked around Vail was no where
to be seen. I cursed him for a coward and half struggled to my feet.
Then there rang out the sharp report of a revolver followed by shot
after shot in rapid succession. The boy was making it exceedingly hot
for them. I put my hand to my belt, my revolver was gone; this accounted
for the number of shots which had been fired. Then followed a pause and
another volley of shots, he had reloaded and reopened the battle. A
little later he dashed up the path to my side, a revolver in each hand,
and cried “all that are not dead have run away, we must get to the
camp.” He helped me to my feet, but I could not touch the wounded foot
to the ground. Leaning on his shoulder and hobbling forward we at last
reached the open, there my strength gave out. Vail propped me up with my
back to a boulder and bathed my forehead with some water and gave me a
drink.
“Good luck,” he cried, “there is the mule,” which we had hobbled and
left in the vicinity of the camp. A few minutes later I was on its back
and soon reached the tent. It was impossible for me to go forward, but
the natives had paid too dearly for their attack to return and
undoubtedly left that part of the country for we saw no more of them.
Vail explained that when he saw that daylight was coming on he decided
that the only way to save our lives was to creep out and make a rear
attack upon the savages, thus creating the impression that they had been
attacked by a rescuing party. The ruse had proved successful and
resulted in the death of three natives and the wounding of several
others. Beyond a doubt I owe my life to the skill and forethought of my
companion. The wound in my leg healed slowly and was exceedingly
painful, two weeks passed before I was able to set out for Coolgardie,
which we reached without further incident. From Coolgardie we journied
to Perth. At the capital we met a French expert who paid us four
thousand pounds for the box of opals, which I have since learned was
much less than the market value of the gems. The money was equally
divided and I was preparing to return to England when Vail made a
request which I felt I could not refuse, it was that I should remain in
Perth for one month during his absence, he would meet me at the Imperial
hotel, on the first day of the following month at eight p.m. I opined
that the request was connected with the promise which I had given to the
old man at the camp and anxiously awaited the denouement. So anxious was
I that there should be no delay that I took up my residence at the hotel
a week previous to the termination of the time. The last day I carefully
scrutinized all new comers, but saw nothing of my friend. When eight
struck I abandoned all hope and grew anxious lest some accident had
befallen him.
On the stroke of the clock a bell boy came down the stairs informed me
that a lady wished to see me in private parlor “A.” So far as I was
aware I was not acquainted with a lady in Australia and I concluded that
a mistake had been made. The parlor was dimly lighted, when I entered a
young lady advanced from the window and said, “Mr. Detmold, I believe.”