HELPLESS AND HOPELESS.
It was not the time to despair, but to act. If Kemple Pier bridge was
destroyed, they must cross the Snowy at all events, and reach Twofold
Bay before Ben Joyce's band. They lost no time, therefore, in vain
words; but the next day Captain Mangles and Glenarvan went to examine
the river, preparatory to a passage.
The tumultuous waters, swollen by the rains, had not subsided. They
whirled along with indescribable fury. It was certain death to brave
this torrent. Glenarvan, with folded arms and lowered head, stood
motionless.
"Do you wish me to try to swim to the opposite bank?" asked Captain
Mangles.
"No, John," replied Glenarvan, seizing the bold young man by the hand;
"let us wait."
They both returned to the encampment. The day was passed in the most
lively anxiety. Ten times did Glenarvan return to the river. He sought
to contrive some bold plan of crossing it, but in vain. It would not
have been more impassable if a torrent of lava had flowed between its
banks.
During these long hours of delay, Lady Helena, with the major's
assistance, bestowed upon Mulready the most skillful care. The sailor
felt that he was returning to life. MacNabb ventured to affirm that no
vital organ had been injured, the loss of blood sufficiently explained
the patient's weakness. Thus, as soon as his wound was healed and the
hemorrhage stopped, only time and rest were needed for his complete
restoration. Lady Helena had insisted upon his occupying her end of the
cart. Mulready felt greatly honored. His greatest anxiety was in the
thought that his condition might delay Glenarvan, and he forced them to
promise that they would leave him at the camp in charge of Wilson, as
soon as the river became fordable.
Unfortunately, this was not possible, either that day or the next. At
seeing himself thus detained, Glenarvan despaired. Lady Helena and the
major tried in vain to pacify and exhort him to patience. Patience!
when, at that moment perhaps, Ben Joyce was going on board the yacht,
when the Duncan was weighing anchor and steaming towards that fatal
coast, to which every hour brought her nearer!
[Sidenote: ALMOST DESPAIRING.]
Captain Mangles felt at heart all Glenarvan's anguish, and, as he
wished to overcome the difficulty at all hazards, he constructed a
canoe in the Australian fashion, with large pieces of the bark of the
gum-trees. These slabs, which were very light, were held together by
wooden cross-bars, and formed a very frail craft.
The captain and the sailor tried the canoe. All that skill, strength,
or courage could do they did. But scarcely were they in the current,
when they capsized and narrowly escaped with their lives. The boat was
drawn into the eddies and disappeared. Captain Mangles and Wilson had
not advanced ten yards into the river, which was swollen by the rains
and melting snows till it was now a mile in breadth.
Two days were wasted in this way. The major and Glenarvan went five
miles up stream without finding a practicable ford. Everywhere was the
same impetuosity, the same tumultuous rush of water; all the southern
slopes of the mountains had poured their liquid torrents into this
single stream. They were forced, therefore, to give up any hope of
saving the Duncan. Five days had passed since Ben Joyce's departure,
the yacht was probably that very moment at the coast, in the hands of
the convicts.
However, this state of things could not last long. Indeed, on the
morning of the third day, Paganel perceived that the waters were
beginning to subside. He reported to Glenarvan the result of his
observations.
"What does it matter now?" replied Glenarvan; "it is too late!"
"That is no reason for prolonging our stay at the encampment," replied
the major.
"Certainly not," said Captain Mangles; "to-morrow, perhaps, it will be
possible to cross."
"But will that save my unfortunate crew?" cried Glenarvan.
"Listen to me, my lord," continued Captain Mangles. "I know Tom Austin.
He was to execute your orders, and start as soon as his departure was
possible. Who knows whether the Duncan was ready, or her injuries
repaired, on the arrival of Ben Joyce at Melbourne? Supposing the
yacht could not put to sea, and suffered one or two days of delay?"
"You are right, John," replied Glenarvan. "We must reach Twofold Bay.
We are only thirty-five miles from Delegete."
"Yes," said Paganel, "and in that town we shall find rapid means of
conveyance. Who knows whether we shall not arrive in time to prevent
this calamity?"
"Let us start!" cried Glenarvan.
Captain Mangles and Wilson at once occupied themselves in constructing
a raft of large dimensions. Experience had proved that pieces of bark
could not resist the violence of the torrent. The captain cut down
several gum-trees, of which he made a rude but substantial raft. It was
a tedious task, and that day ended before the work was completed; but
the next day it was finished.
The waters had now considerably subsided. The torrent had become a
river again, with a rapid current. However, with proper management, the
captain hoped to reach the opposite bank.
At noon they put on board as much provisions as each could carry for
two days' travel. The rest was abandoned with the cart and the tent.
Mulready was well enough to be moved; he was recovering rapidly.
Each took his place on the raft, which was moored to the bank. Captain
Mangles had arranged on the starboard side, and confided to Wilson, a
kind of oar to sustain the raft against the current, and prevent its
drifting. As for himself, he stood at the stern, and steered by means
of a clumsy rudder. Lady Helena and Mary Grant occupied the centre
of the raft near Mulready. Glenarvan, the major, Paganel, and Robert
surrounded them, ready to lend assistance.
"Are we ready, Wilson?" asked Captain Mangles.
"Yes, captain," replied the sailor, seizing his oar with a firm hand.
[Illustration: However, the raft was entangled in the midst of the
river, half a mile below where they started.]
"Attention, and bear up against the current."
Captain Mangles unmoored the raft, and with one push launched it into
the current of the river. All went well for some time, and Wilson
resisted the leeway. But soon the craft was drawn into the eddies, and
turned round and round, so that neither oar nor rudder could keep it in
a straight course. In spite of their efforts, they were soon placed in
a position where it was impossible to use the oars.
They were forced to be passive; there was no means of preventing this
gyratory motion. They were whirled about with a giddy rapidity, and
sent out of their course. The captain, with pale face and set teeth,
stood and gazed at the eddying water.
However, the raft was entangled in the midst of the river, half a mile
below where they started. The current here was very strong, and, as
it broke the eddies, it lessened the whirling motion. The captain and
Wilson resumed their oars, and succeeded in propelling the craft in an
oblique direction. In this way they approached nearer the left bank,
and were only a few yards distant, when Wilson's oar broke. The raft,
no longer sustained against the current, was carried down stream. The
captain endeavored to prevent it, at the risk of breaking his rudder,
and Wilson with bleeding hands assisted him.
At last they succeeded, and the raft, after a voyage of more than half
an hour, ran upon the steeply-sloping bank. The shock was violent; the
timbers were thrown apart, the ropes broken, and the foaming water came
through. The travelers had only time to cling to the bushes that hung
over the stream. They extricated Mulready and the two ladies, who were
half drenched. In short, everybody was saved; but the greater part of
the provisions and arms, except the major's rifle, were swept away with
the fragments of the raft.
[Sidenote: A WEARY PILGRIMAGE.]
The river was crossed, but the little party were without resources,
thirty-five miles from Delegete, in the midst of these untrodden
deserts. They resolved to start without delay. Mulready saw that he
would cause trouble, and desired to remain behind, even alone, and wait
for aid from Delegete. But Glenarvan refused. He could not reach the
town before three days. If the Duncan had left Melbourne several days
before, what mattered a delay of a few hours?
"No, my friend," said he; "I will not abandon any one. We will make a
litter, and take turns in carrying you."
The litter was made of branches covered with leaves, and upon this
Mulready was placed. Glenarvan wished to be the first to bear the
sailor, and, seizing one end of the litter and Wilson the other, they
started.
What a sad sight! and how disastrously this journey, so well begun,
had ended! They were no longer going in search of Captain Grant.
This continent--where he was not, nor had ever been--threatened to
be fatal to those who were seeking traces of him, and perhaps new
discouragements still awaited them.
The first day passed silently and painfully. Every ten minutes they
took turns in carrying the litter. All the sailor's companions
uncomplainingly imposed upon themselves this duty, which was made still
more arduous by the great heat.
At evening, after accomplishing only five miles, they encamped under
a group of gum-trees. The rest of the provisions that had escaped the
shipwreck furnished the evening meal. They must hereafter rely on the
major's rifle; but he found no opportunity to fire a single shot.
Fortunately, Robert found a nest of bustards, containing a dozen large
eggs, which Olbinett cooked in the hot ashes. In addition to these
embarrassments, their way became very difficult. The sandy plains were
bristling with thorny plants that tore their garments and lacerated
their limbs. The courageous ladies, however, did not complain, but
valiantly advanced, setting the example, and encouraging each other by
a word or a look.
On the third day Mulready traveled part of the way on foot. His wound
had entirely healed. The town of Delegete was only ten miles distant,
and at evening they encamped on the very frontiers of New South Wales.
A fine and penetrating rain had been falling for several hours, and
all shelter would have failed, if Captain Mangles had not fortunately
discovered a ruined and abandoned sawyer's hut. They were obliged to
content themselves with this miserable hovel of branches and thatch.
Wilson attempted to kindle a fire to prepare the food, and accordingly
collected some dead wood that strewed the ground. But when he attempted
to light the fuel he did not succeed; the great quantity of aluminous
material that it contained prevented combustion. It was, therefore,
necessary to dispense with fire and food, and sleep in wet garments,
while the birds, hidden in the lofty branches, seemed to mock these
unfortunate travelers.
However, Glenarvan and his friends were approaching the end of their
sufferings; and it was time. The two ladies exerted themselves
heroically, but their strength was failing every hour. They dragged
themselves along, they no longer walked.
The next day they started at daybreak, and at eleven o'clock Delegete
came in sight, fifty miles from Twofold Bay. Here means of conveyance
were quickly obtained. Feeling himself so near the coast, hope returned
to Glenarvan's heart; perhaps there had been some slight delay, and he
would arrive before the Duncan! In twenty-four hours he would reach the
bay!
At noon, after a comforting repast, all the travelers took their seats
in a mail-coach, and left Delegete at the full speed of five strong
horses. The postilions, stimulated by the promise of a large reward,
drove them along at a rapid rate, over a well-kept road. No time was
lost in changing horses, and it seemed as if Glenarvan had inspired
all with his own intense eagerness.
[Illustration: The two ladies exerted themselves heroically, but their
strength was failing every hour. They dragged themselves along, they no
longer walked.]
All day and all night they traveled with the same swiftness, and at
sunrise the next morning a low murmur announced the proximity of the
Indian Ocean. It was necessary, however, to pass around the bay to gain
that part of the coast where Tom Austin was to meet the travelers.
When the sea appeared, all eyes quickly surveyed the wide expanse. Was
the Duncan there, by a miracle of Providence, as she had been discerned
before by some of them on the Argentine coast? Nothing was seen; sky
and water mingled in an unbroken horizon; not a sail brightened the
vast extent of ocean.
One hope still remained. Perhaps Tom Austin had thought it best to cast
anchor in Twofold Bay, as the sea was rough and a vessel could not be
moored in safety near such shores.
"To Eden!" said Glenarvan.
The mail-coach at once took the road to the right, which ran along the
edge of the bay, and proceeded towards the little town of Eden, only
five miles distant. The postilions stopped not far from the light that
guarded the entrance to the harbor. Several ships were anchored in the
roadstead, but none displayed the flag of Malcolm Castle.
Glenarvan, Captain Mangles, and Paganel alighted immediately, and
hastened to the custom-house. Here they questioned the employees, and
consulted the latest arrivals. No vessel had entered the bay for a week.
"She may not have started!" cried Glenarvan, who would not despair.
"Perhaps we have arrived before her!"
Captain Mangles shook his head. He knew Tom Austin; his mate would
never have delayed so long to execute an order.
"I will know what this means," said Glenarvan. "Certainty is better
than doubt."
[Sidenote: THE LAST HOPE.]
Fifteen minutes later a telegram was sent to the ship-brokers of
Melbourne, and the travelers repaired to the Victoria Hotel. Not long
after an answer was delivered to Lord Glenarvan. It read as follows:
"Lord Glenarvan,
Eden, Twofold Bay.
"Duncan started on the 18th instant for some unknown destination."
The dispatch fell from Glenarvan's hands. There was no more doubt! The
honest Scotch yacht, in Ben Joyce's hands, had become a pirate-vessel!
Thus ended their search in Australia, begun under such favorable
auspices. The traces of Captain Grant and his shipwrecked sailors
seemed irrecoverably lost. This failure had cost the lives of an entire
crew. Lord Glenarvan was crushed by the blow, and this courageous
searcher, whom the leagued elements had failed to deter, was now
baffled by the malice of men.