You will have gathered from all this that my father had been missing for
pretty well three years, and that he, a well-known botanist, had
accepted a commission from a well-known florist in the neighbourhood of
London to collect new plants for him, and in his quest he had made his
last unfortunate trip--which had followed one to Carpentaria--to New
Guinea.
We had heard from him twice, each time with a package of seeds and
plants, which we had forwarded to London. Then there was an utter
cessation of news; one year had become two--then three--and it would
soon be four.
Quite a little fellow when he started, I had cried with disappointment
at being left behind. Now I had grown into a big fellow for my age; I
had dreamed incessantly of making the attempt to find my father, and now
at last the time had come.
I believe I was quite as excited over the proposed journey as Jimmy, but
I did not go about throwing a spear at gum-trees, neither did I climb
the tallest eucalyptus to try if I could see New Guinea from the topmost
branches. Moreover I did not show my delight on coming down, certain of
having seen this promised land, by picking out a low horizontal branch
and hanging from it by my toes.
All of these antics Jimmy did do, and many more, besides worrying me
every half-hour with--
"Come long--time a go find him fader."
Of course now I know that it would have been impossible for me to have
carried out my plans without the doctor, who was indefatigable, bringing
to bear as he did the ripe experience of a man who had been all over the
world pretty well before he came to Australia to make a practice; and
every day I had from him some useful hint.