My life in danger—Morbora’s ingratitude—Another danger—My position grows
more precarious—The black man’s fondness for imitating.
During the last part of my sojourn in Australia my situation grew more
and more perilous. In an unguarded moment Yokkai even happened to tell
me how the blacks were constantly laying plots against me.
We were at this time about to set poison for some animals, which I was
trying to secure in Morbora’s “land.” Morbora was himself one of our
party, and I promised him not only tobacco, but also a handkerchief of
many colours, if he would tell me honestly where I had better lay the
poison. There were two valleys to choose between, and I had a strong
suspicion that he from sheer laziness chose the nearest one. I therefore
assured him most positively that if he deceived me he would get nothing,
but he insisted that the animals were usually found in the nearest
valley, which accordingly was to be preferred.
As the others declared themselves willing to go farther, but still
maintained that he was right, I was forced to believe him. We had much
work and trouble in placing poisoned pieces of meat in various places
along the river.
Here we remained for two days without catching anything, and I therefore
grew impatient, and declared that he had deceived me. To my surprise the
others admitted this with smiles in their faces: _Oito Morbora_—that is,
Morbora’s jest. He accordingly received no pay from me, although he
demanded it. Still, later in the evening, I gave him a little tobacco so
that he might be able to join the others in smoking, but he was not
satisfied with this. He had made up his mind to get possession of all
the tobacco I had left by taking my life. He got Mangola-Maggi—who, by
the way, had admitted that Morbora had lied to me—to join him in this
foul plot. As the reader will remember, he was an experienced cannibal.
Together with two others he had recently been out in search of human
flesh, and had been successful. He had no objection to give his
assistance on this occasion, the more so as the reward would be abundant
according to the standard of the blacks. Only the opportunity was
wanting.
The opportunity presented itself the next morning. They, were all ready
to attack me, and a part was assigned to each one of them. Mangola-Maggi
was to seize me from behind my back, while Morbora, who was the
strongest, was to strike me on the head. I was sitting on the ground a
short distance from the hut, and had carelessly left my revolver and my
belt in my hut. They also tried to get Yokkai into the plot, but at this
time he had, fortunately for me, been inspired to do all in his power to
save my life, and so he detained them for some time with his objections,
advising them not to attack me just at that time. Before they had come
to any definite conclusion I had got up and gone into my hut, and so I
this time escaped Morbora’s murderous plot. It was not until some time
afterwards that I learned from Yokkai the details of this intended
attack.
Later in the day, while we were resting on the bank of a river which we
were about to cross, we met a dozen natives, with whom Morbora at once
entered into a spirited conversation. I had seated myself on the soft
sand, and intended to eat my dinner there, but I began to suspect that
mischief was brewing, for I observed that Morbora grew more and more
excited in his conversation with the strangers, and at last became
perfectly pale with rage. I therefore decided to cross the river and eat
my dinner on the other side, where I would feel more secure. I
afterwards learned from Yokkai that he had heard Morbora propose to the
strange blacks that they should join him in killing me now that the
opportunity was so favourable. It was not, therefore, strange that
Morbora did not cross the river with me. He remained with the natives he
had met, and with whom he soon disappeared in the scrubs. After that
time I never saw him again.
I had taken more interest in the education of this man than in that of
any other; I had treated him well and taught him, timid as he was in the
beginning, to have confidence in the white man. And now my reward was
that he tried to take my life no less than twice on the same day. It was
to me a new and striking evidence of the bad character of the Australian
native.
At another time the danger was even more imminent. I had my camp near a
little tribe, where there was an old acquaintance of mine, viz.
Mangoran. As will be remembered, he had accompanied me on my first
expedition with the blacks.
We had just made our camp when he put in his appearance, and my people,
who were afraid of him, gave him the greater part of the food and
tobacco which they had received from me. This was more than I could
stand, and as his laziness, moreover, had a bad influence on my people,
I requested him to remain in his own camp. On this account Mangoran
became mortally offended, and from that day I was the object of his
deadly hate. My request that he should leave my premises was not
complied with at once, but threats to use my revolver had the desired
effect. Still, I did not care to lose sight of him, for my provisions
were never safe in his greedy propinquity.
Yokkai, too, comprehended the situation, for soon afterwards, when we
were to start on an expedition, he proposed that for safety’s sake we
should take Mangoran, otherwise he would steal our provisions during our
absence. Mangoran appeared willing at once, and seemed to be pleased
with the usual reward of meat and tobacco which he would get on our
return.
The same evening I went down to the mountain stream near the camp to
take my bath. My daily intercourse with the natives had made me less
observant than caution demanded. I had left my revolver in the hut.
While I was absent a council of war was held in the camp. Mangoran, who
for several days had been looking for an opportunity, was now eagerly
urging the others to murder me, and was explaining how easy it would be
to do this.
The grass all the way to the bank of the river was tall, so that they
could steal down upon me unobserved. He explained to them what their
reward would be—flour, meat, tobacco, and a large woollen blanket. They
could take all, even my gun. The other blacks, however, hesitated. An
old man who once had been shot in the leg by the native police
considered the undertaking risky. Yokkai and another boy who was with me
also argued against killing the white man. The end of the deliberations
was that Mangoran and his wife should commit the murder. They were to
steal down through the grass and attack me in the water—he armed with an
axe, she with her “yam-stick.” It is not difficult to see how this
matter would have ended had I remained in the water as long as usual;
but as good luck would have it, the weather happened to be so cool that
I could only take a short bath, and I made haste to dress myself again.
Thus they did not get to the river in time to attack me in my
defenceless condition, and when they saw that I was already dressed and
on my way to my hut, they abandoned the project for the time.
When Yokkai, a long time afterwards, reported these facts to me, I asked
him if they were not afraid of the police, to which he made the very
appropriate response, “That the scrub is very large.” They had been so
sure that the murder would be a success that they had already in advance
divided my property among themselves, and decided that my body was to be
thrown into the water and not eaten. One of the horses was to be eaten,
but the other, the old pack-horse, which was very lean, was to be set at
liberty. Yokkai added that he had made up his mind not to allow this,
but would have taken both the horses to the station, and would there
have told the keeper what had happened. All this came from Yokkai’s lips
as naïvely and confidently as if he were talking about a person already
dead and gone.
It seemed to me like reading in a newspaper about my own death and all
its details, for I fully comprehended how near I had in fact been to
death’s door. I was surrounded by dangers on all sides, and I had no
reason to look for any bettering of the circumstances, for the natives
respect only those whites who shoot them, and as I did not use my gun
against them, I at length came to be looked upon as “a small white man.”
Yokkai frequently blamed me for not being sufficiently _kóla_—that is,
angry. “You do not shoot anybody,” he added.
My clothes were so tattered and torn that they scarcely hung together,
and this fact did not tend to raise me in the eyes of the natives, who,
like children, have a keen eye for such exterior matters, and regarded
my rags as evidence that I was no longer the great man they had
supposed. Add to this the defeat I had suffered on account of the
conduct of the police, and it is evident that my life hung by a thread.
The blacks near Herbert Vale having proved themselves lazy and useless,
I never took them with me, so they got no tobacco, which made them
angry. Every time I started out on an expedition they urged my people to
murder me and throw my body into the water. This advice came, not only
from my former friends Willy and Jacky, but even from Nelly and the
Kanaka.
The greatest danger, however, threatened me from my own people, though I
felt convinced that Yokkai, despite his emotional disposition, would
defend me to the extent of his ability. He had himself on one occasion
told me that “he did like the white man.”
Despite these many difficulties, I was determined not to give up,
feeling sure that I would yet be able to make new discoveries in these
interesting and strange regions.
Yokkai was my only faithful friend. Once in a while he had to go to his
mother to get some tobola, but he soon returned, and he stayed with me,
for “he wanted to become white man.”
He had also made considerable progress. He could smoke tobacco as well
as anybody, was himself the owner of a clay pipe, and was able to use a
few English words with more or less ease. Still, there were some gaps in
his education. He was continually pestering me to teach him how to ride
and shoot. His eagerness to ride was soon cured. To mount the horse he
would climb up one of the forelegs, just as if he were about to climb a
tree. Not entirely pleased with this new style of being mounted, my
pack-horse, old Kassik, put forth the remnant of his strength and made a
buck, so that Yokkai came down much quicker than he had climbed up; and
from that time I heard no more about his desire to ride.
As my cook he was very useful, and saved me much trouble, but I always
had to watch him. On one occasion, when he was to bake damper (he first
had to wash his hands, a trouble he did not care to take), instead of
going down to the brook he filled his mouth with water from the pail and
squirted it upon his fingers, which, he thereupon dried on the grass. He
showed his hands to me to convince me that he had washed them, but I
insisted on his doing it once more and in the proper way.
Whatever fault might be found with Yokkai, he had become utterly
indispensable to me, and besides I gained much pleasure and
entertainment from his company.
I also made him laugh many a time, and after I had become a tolerable
master of his language, and was able to tell him things for his
amusement, he laughed so heartily that I have sometimes seen the tears
stream down his cheeks. What is comic to the blacks strikes them at
once, and makes them laugh immediately. They are very humorous, have a
decided talent for drollery, and are skilful mimics. I once saw a young
Australian receive an order from his master, whereupon he immediately
went to his companions and imitated his master’s manner of speaking and
acting, to the great amusement of the whole camp. In their dances they
imitate in a striking manner the hopping of the kangaroo and the solemn
movements of the emu, and never fail to make the spectators laugh.
The natives like to imitate the white man’s manners. My people had
observed that I rinsed my mouth every evening; when they had observed
this for some time I was surprised to find some of them doing the same
thing. They were also very fond of soap, not for the purpose of washing
themselves clean, but to wash some shirt or other article of clothing
which I had given them. They had frequently seen me use soap in washing
my clothes.
In spite of their respect for the gun, the clothes, and the many good
things of the white man, they still look upon him as their inferior when
they are on their own territory, and it must be admitted that there he
actually is their inferior in many respects.