LOST IN THE BUSH
DURING the five months we lay at Williamstown Wharf, replacing the
disabled masts and rigging, I spent what I consider the happiest time
of my life. The rigging work was placed in the hands of the well-known
firm of Messrs. Johnson Bros., of Melbourne, and well they carried
out their contract. I was employed with them all the time, and learnt
to be a thorough practical seaman, especially in the handling and
splicing of wire, which, in after years, stood me in good service. The
working hours for the riggers were from eight in the morning to five
in the evening, but the four apprentices and I worked from six in the
morning until six in the evening, as we cleaned and washed the decks
both before and after the riggers had been working. The master rigger
paid me five shillings every Saturday out of his own pocket for working
with them; so that I always had a little pocket money to go on with. I
went ashore every evening and had a right good time. It was here that I
found what a good thing it was to belong to the Order of Good Templars.
I attached myself to a lodge near the dock, and at once found myself
in a circle of friends, who vied with each other in making me welcome
in their homes, and at the various lodges. Needless to say that the
young sisters in the lodges played sad havoc with my, at that time,
susceptible heart, and I was more or less madly in love during my stay
there, and scarcely a night passed without a social gathering at one or
other of the lodges in Melbourne.
But my happy time was drawing to a close, and the “John Kerr” was again
ready for sea, but I had made up my mind she should sail without me,
the fascination of the gold fields had laid its hold on me, and I only
waited for a favourable opportunity to set out and try my fortune in
this direction, having made up my mind to leave her before she left the
wharf.
The opportunity offered itself the night before we were to haul out
into the bay. A coasting barque, hailing from Newcastle, New South
Wales, was lying at the other side of the wharf. It was bound for
Newcastle. I had arranged with one of her crew, whom I had become
acquainted with, to stow away in her the night before she sailed.
I also knew that the officers and the watchman of the “John Kerr”
were carefully watching the two apprentices and myself to prevent us
deserting, but the old saying, “where there’s a will there’s a way,”
was borne out in my case, although I had to use every caution to
circumvent them. However, I did manage it. The barque “Woodville”
was to sail from the jetty at midnight. About an hour before she cast
off, I saw our watchman standing beside the gangway, so, without more
ado, I slipped over the side and down a rope, and landed on one of
the crossbeams under the jetty. I crawled along the piles until I got
to the other side of the jetty and just abreast of the bows of the
“Woodville.” Seizing the bow-head lines, I climbed on board and slipped
into the forecastle. The sailors welcomed me with a laugh, and shewed
me where to hide, but there was no need for me to do this, as I had
barely got on board before the order was given to loose the topsails,
and when these were set, the lines were cast off, and the vessel at
once got under weigh.
By daylight we had cleared the heads and were running before a strong
breeze for Bass Straits. I then went on deck and reported myself to
Captain Conely, who did not shew any surprise at my appearance, even if
he felt it, but just said:
“All right, just go along to the mate, and no doubt he will find you
some work to do.”
I immediately did this, and he at once sent me amongst the crew, and
they at once made me one of themselves. I was delighted with the social
spirit and friendly feeling that existed between the captain, officers,
and the men in this colonial vessel. What a difference between her and
the other vessels I had sailed in. For instance, the seamen on the
“John Kerr” were paid two pounds ten per month, and got the Board of
Trade scale of provisions, their pound and pint, or, as was once said
to me by an old Welsh skipper, when I and the rest of the crew were
half dead with thirst, and there was plenty on board, “they get their
whack, and they’ll get no more.” But the sailors on the “Woodville”
were paid seven pounds per month. They did not sign for any scale of
provisions, but for full and plenty; they got soft bread, fresh soup
and stores every day, and no restriction as to water. No wonder they
were contented and cheerful.
We had a fair passage to Newcastle, and there I landed with my few
belongings and a heart full of hope at the prospect before me, and the
sense of freedom from restraint that had always been a passion with me.
I was anxious to see the country, so, after making a few enquiries,
I decided to go on the “Wallaby” (or tramp), and on the following
morning, having got together five pounds of ship’s bread, and a billy,
or can, to hold two quarts of water, I rolled up my few things in a
swag, slung it over my shoulder, and started for my first tramp through
the bush, intending to make for Lake McQuarrie.
It was a lovely morning when I started, the sky overhead was bright and
clear, my heart was light, and I had no fear for the future, being full
of the confidence of ignorance and already used to hardships.
Having been advised to follow the freshest bullock track, I entered
the bush at Minmi, a small village about twelve miles from Newcastle.
For several hours I tramped on, but not a human creature did I meet,
but at present I was too interested to notice this, stopping frequently
to look at the great pine trees that were growing in the Ti tree scrub,
while here and there the common fern grew luxuriantly, reminding me of
the parks one sees surrounding some of the large estates in the old
country. So far the track had been of fine white dust that got into my
eyes and throat, but I was so delighted with the bush that I pressed
on, new beauties unfolding themselves before my eyes at every step;
the beautiful tall gum trees and the numerous and wonderful plants and
ferns that I met with, the birds, too, many of them singing gaily in
the trees.
My feet began to feel tired and, thinking a rest would do me no harm,
I sat down and made a meal, and had a good drink of the water I had
with me. Now Lake McQuarrie lay due south from Minmi. I had noticed
that the sun was on my left side when I started, and having been warned
against wandering into the bush away from the track, I had kept the
sun on my left side until midday, when I could not say which way it
was moving, so I lay down under some tall gum trees, and, looking up
through the branches for about half-an-hour I noted the sun’s altitude
was decreasing, this shewing me that it was now past noon.
After a good rest I started again on my journey, keeping the sun now
on my right side. As night drew near my steps lagged a little and I
began to feel a bit nervous, which was a new experience for me, and I
feared that I had lost my way. So engrossed was I in this thought that
I failed to notice that night had suddenly closed down upon me, without
any warning, as it does in these tropics, so I picked out a place where
there were a lot of dry leaves and sat down completely tired out,
feeling it was useless to try and go any further on my journey until
daylight, when I should again have the sun to guide me. I began to wish
I had not started alone on my trip. However, I soon fell asleep and
slept soundly throughout the night--the sleep of the tired.
How long I slept I cannot say, but I was awakened by the sound of
coarse loud laughter close beside me. The night was pitch dark, I could
not see ten feet in front of me. Springing to my feet, I drew my sheath
knife from my belt, and gripping it tightly in my right hand stood on
the defensive. I thought I was surrounded by a lot of native blacks,
who had come upon me, and were laughing at the easy capture they would
make of me. Although I could not see anything moving I determined to
sell my life dearly. My legs were shaking under me, if I could have
seen anything it would not have felt so bad, but the intense darkness
appalled me. Again the coarse laughter resounded through the bush, just
as though there were a lot of men near. After a few minutes my nerve
returned, and I gave a loud coo-ee. Immediately there was a loud laugh
just above my head, and it slowly dawned upon me that the cause of my
fright had been some laughing jackasses in the trees, the relief was
great, but it was some time before I felt like sleeping again.
I was just quietly dosing off when I heard the most pitiful wailing of
a child. Up I sprang again, and halloed again and again, but got no
answer. I dared not leave the tree for fear of losing my bearings. Time
after time the pitiful crying went on. Oh, how I prayed for daylight,
surely no child was astray in this awful place, or was it being
tortured or what. I felt quite unstrung, every cry and moan went to
my heart, and to feel so helpless, to stand there whilst that pitiful
cry went out into the darkness and loneliness, and not to be able
to help; it was with difficulty I restrained myself from rushing to
where I thought the cry came from. At last it got fainter and fainter,
then ceased altogether, as though it had either given out or wandered
farther away. Then sinking down once more at the foot of the tree I
fell asleep from sheer weariness of mind and body.
When I awoke, the sun was high in the heavens, so that for a little
while I could not tell which was the south point. I lay on my back, and
again looking up through the tall trees, noted that the sun was still
increasing his altitude, so I at once faced south and proceeded on my
way, looking on every side for signs of the baby I had heard crying.
I was greatly refreshed by my night’s rest but very uneasy in my mind
when I looked into the billy, and found there was very little water in
it, and I was almost choking with thirst.
After tramping on for another two hours, I came across the dead body
of a man lying in the grass. The undergrowth being so thick, I put my
foot on the body before I noticed it. This gave me a bit of a shock for
a moment, but not being troubled with nerves I soon got over it. The
body was that of a man about thirty years of age, with fair hair and
moustache, and was nearly nude. The tongue was protruding and quite
blue, and on the breast and forearm there were tattoo marks. There he
lay stretched upon the ground, with sightless eyes gazing up to the
pitiless sky. A blue flannel shirt was lying near the body, this I
picked up and tied to the tree just over the body, so that it could be
found later on.
Continuing my tramp, what I had just seen not being in any way likely
to raise my spirits or give me much encouragement, I came across
a patch of Ti tree scrub that was too thick for me to make my way
through, so I kept away to the right for a few miles, until the country
was clearer. The sun was almost overhead, and I was suffering agony
from thirst; eagerly I looked into the billy to see if by chance I had
left a mouthful of water, but no, I had drunk the last drop some hours
ago; how my throat ached with the thirst, then I began to think of the
dead man, who no doubt had lost his way in the bush and died of thirst,
surely that would not be my fate. I must not think of these things, but
press on, and look for water.
Suddenly I came across a tiny creek, almost out of sight, with a
beautiful clear stream of running water. Oh, how my heart leaped with
joy as I hurried towards it. Flinging myself on my knees I filled
the billy, and fairly poured it down my parched throat. Then again
filling it I plunged my head, face and neck into the sweet cool water,
and taking off my shoes and socks let the water wander over my hot
and tired and badly blistered feet. Oh, the relief to mind and body
that that stream brought, then dropping on my knees I thanked God
for leading me to it. There I sat loth to leave--several snakes and
lizards were crawling about near the water, but their presence did not
mar its sweetness. Then, feeling rested and refreshed, I had another
good drink and filling up the billy I set off again on my journey, and
after tramping through the dense bush and wondering still about the
pitiful cries I had heard, suddenly, without a moment’s warning, the
precious billy of water was snatched out of my hand. Swinging quickly
round, a horrible sight met my eyes. There standing before me was a
tall naked man. His eyes were all bloodshot, his whole body scratched
and bleeding, his hair matted and covered with furze and grass. He had
my billy of water to his mouth and was pouring it down his throat. At
his feet lay a small native bear with its stomach cut open. The man’s
face was a terrible sight, all covered with the blood he had been
sucking from the bear. I could see at a glance that the poor fellow
was stark mad, and, being a big powerful man, I felt that if he chose
to attack me, I should stand a very poor chance. All these thoughts
passed through my mind quicker than I can relate them. However, I drew
my knife, which was still in my belt, but my precautions were needless
for before I could decide on any action, he had drunk all my water, and
dropped down in a senseless heap on the ground. I sprang forward and
grasped the billy, and, not knowing what to do under the circumstances,
went back to the creek as quickly as possible and refilled the billy
with water, drinking as much as I could besides. I then retraced my
steps towards the lake district. I had lost two good hours over that
poor lost creature, and was not sure how soon I might be in the same
condition.
Towards sunset the track seemed to have disappeared. I had lost sight
of all bullock-dray ruts, and I began to think that I, too, was lost,
but hope urged me on. I kept on working south by the sun, and I knew
Lake McQuarrie was due south. If I could only hold out I was bound to
get there sooner or later.
At sunset I ate my last biscuit and lay down at the foot of a large
blue gum tree. Worn out with my tramp I was soon in a sound sleep, from
which I did not wake until broad daylight. Still feeling tired and
hungry my first thought was when I should again get something to eat.
Suddenly the welcome tinkling of bells fell on my ears. I knew that
all cattle, when grazing in the colonies, have a small bell attached
to them, so that they can be heard in the bush, even when they cannot
be seen. My spirits rose like magic, and I sprang to my feet. Just at
that moment, I heard the sound of some heavy body crushing its way
through the bush, and the next minute two large kangaroos went leaping
past, and in a couple of minutes afterwards a young man on horseback
dashed up. On seeing me he pulled up his horse at once, his face full
of astonishment.
“Jehoshaphat!” he cried, “where the devil did you spring from?”
I told him how I had been sleeping there all night and had tramped from
Newcastle.
“Alone?” he asked. “Well, all I can say is you are very lucky to find
your way here. You might have been lost in the bush. As it is, there
are several men missing. The police have sent in a notice from Maitland
saying that several sailors have disappeared between Newcastle and
Wallsend coal mines, where they were making for.”
I told him about the dead sailor I had seen, also about the one who had
stolen my can of water.
“By jove!” he exclaimed, “we must save that chap if it is possible,”
and placing his hands to his mouth in the shape of a funnel he called,
“coo-ee! coo-ee!” with a voice of such penetrating power, that I am
sure he could be heard for miles around. The note was clear as a bell
and as resonant. Then, for a moment or two, he stood in a listening
attitude, and from a long distance away could be heard the answering
cry “coo-ee! coo-ee!” twice repeated. My new found friend again gave
the same call three times, which was answered by a single call.
“That’s all right,” he said, “they’ll be here in a minute or two.”
In about five minutes we heard the sound of horses galloping, and in
another few minutes two horsemen dashed up to us.
“What’s up, Frank?” said they, almost before they had pulled up
their horses. Then, catching sight of me, “oh, found one of the lost
ones--eh, that’s good.”
Matters were explained to them, and they at once mounted again.
“Jerusalem, Frank, we must try and find that poor chap, and save him if
it is possible.”
I gave them the direction I had come, as near as I could. The one named
Frank then pointed to a cluster of grey gum trees in the distance, and
told me to make my way there, and just to the right of them I should
find a bullock track; then to follow this track for about two miles and
I would come across a solitary house in the bush. I was to call there
and say, Frank sent me, and to tell Harry, who was at the house, that
they had gone to look after a poor fellow who was lost in the bush.
They then put spurs to their horses and galloped off and were quickly
out of sight.
I made my way with a light heart and tired feet to the gum trees. Found
the bullock track, and following this for quite three miles I came
across the blockhouse just by the side of the track. At the door, but
with his back towards me, stood a splendid specimen of manhood. He
must have been quite six feet in height, a mass of bone and muscle,
with not an ounce of spare flesh on him, and as straight as a reed. As
I approached the house, I trod on some dry twigs, making a noise. The
young man heard it, and, without turning his head sprang into the house
and out again in an instant with a gun in his hands. Looking round he
saw me, and I found that he was about twenty years of age, with an open
kindly face that could be trusted at first sight.
“Sold again,” he remarked. “Hello, young man, where do you come from?”
“Newcastle,” I replied.
“Are you by yourself?” he asked.
I told him I was, and also about the dead man and the other that his
mates had gone to try and rescue.
“Poor chap,” he said, “but Frank will find him if any man can. There
have been a lot of men lost in the bush this last season, owing to the
drought drying up all the creeks. And when they are without water their
tramping soon ends in madness or death. But come along inside and have
something to eat, for you must be nearly starving. Do you like kangaroo
steak?”
“I don’t know,” I said, “I have never tasted it.”
“Well, sit down, and I’ll soon fix you a nice one up that will make you
smack your lips.”
There were two large hind-quarters of kangaroo hanging up in the
outhouse in a large perforated zinc safe that was standing on four
legs, and each leg stood in a dish of water to prevent the swarms
of ants from getting into the safe. While he was frying the steak I
looked round the house. It was a square block-house, divided into two
apartments, one being used as a bedroom, in it were two camp beds, and
two hammocks slung from the overhead beams. There were two wooden boxes
and a few small stools, no chairs or lounges, no luxury here, spartan
simplicity was the order of the day. The other room in which I was
sitting contained a miscellaneous assortment of articles dear to the
heart of a sportsman--guns, revolvers, axes, picks, and two or three
spades, some fishing tackle, saddles and bridles, several pairs of
spurs, and a quantity of kangaroo, opossum, squirrel, and native bear
skins.
“There you are mate,” said Harry, as he placed about a three pound
steak and about two pounds of damper, and a huge billy of tea before
me. “Wire away, and make a good square meal.”
I started to thank him, but whether it was from being without food for
twenty-four hours and the excitement I had passed through on my tramp
through the bush, and my meeting that unfortunate mad fellow, or some
other cause I know not, but while he was speaking I collapsed in a dead
faint. When I came to I was lying on the ground and he was bathing my
head and face with water. I soon felt better again, and was able to eat
a good breakfast of the steak and damper, washed down with the tea,
and by this time I felt like a new man. After breakfast I thanked him
heartily and was about to continue my journey, but Harry would not hear
of it:
“Oh, no you don’t,” he said. “You must stay where you are for a
few days, and rest yourself, and we will take you on to the lake
afterwards, and I have no doubt we can find you employment.”
You may guess how glad I was to hear this, and I renewed my thanks.
“We don’t often get visitors from the Old Country this way,” he said,
“so we make the most of those who do come.”
I asked him why when first he heard me approaching he sprang for his
gun, before looking to see who it was?
“Oh,” he laughed, “I thought it was a kangaroo, and if I had waited to
see him, before getting the gun, he would have been out of range before
I got a shot at him. My mates were after kangaroos this morning.”
The day passed quickly in pleasant chat, and just about sundown the
three horsemen returned from their search for the lost man. They had
found his body beside the creek where I had filled my billy in the
morning. The poor fellow had apparently found the water and in his
delirium had thrown himself down beside it, and must then have been
bitten by a snake, for when they found him his body was much swollen
and going bluish. The three friends had at once dug a hole just below
the surface, and buried the body, and had then cut a large cross on one
of the gum trees to mark the spot, then, continuing their search for
the body of the other poor fellow, had buried it in the same way.
Poor fellows! Theirs was a sad end. Only a few days ago they were on
board their ship, no doubt full of health and strength, but a restless
roving spirit had led them like myself to desert their vessel, and now
they were sleeping their last long sleep in the lone Australian bush,
and I had only narrowly escaped a like fate.
I stayed with my new friends for two weeks, and it was a happy restful
time. They were employed splitting rails and fence posts, and making
trunnels for shipbuilders, and they had more orders than they could
execute. They only worked four days a week. I was very surprised at
this, and said so.
“My friend,” said Frank, “in this country we work to live, as you will
soon find, not live to work, and we find that four days hard work per
week will supply us with all we need. Then we have two days to improve
ourselves in learning, hunting, fishing, trading, visiting, etc., and
on Sunday we lie back and rest, and if we have a visitor like you, we
talk about other lands, and the Homeland, which none of us have seen
yet, but hope to, as we are all natives of New South Wales.”
During my stay with them, I learnt much that was useful to me
afterwards, such as cutting rails and felling large trees. At other
times I would help in splicing ropes and making traces for the bullock
teams that took the rails and trunnels to the Lake McQuarrie for
shipment to Sidney and Newcastle.
At the end of my pleasant stay, Frank took me over to the house of Mr.
Williams, at Belmont, on the banks of the lake, who was in want of a
man to look after a sailing yacht and several rowing boats, to teach
his children swimming, and to make himself generally useful. He at once
engaged me, and I felt that the place would suit me very well until I
had become thoroughly acquainted with that part of the country.