A Dutch Ship comes in Sight--Paul’s Treachery--The Captain lands.
Three years passed peacefully and happily, undisturbed even by the
wretched Papoos. Paul seemed to have at last given up his mad notion of
endeavouring to reach Java and return to civilization.
One day it struck me to ask Zolca about the carven stone head, and he
told me that it was done by a Quadruco in the reign of his grandfather;
that this man was very clever at the work, and had done many heads, and
also made figures out of mud. Some of these he showed me, and I was much
struck with them, also with the thought of this savage genius living and
dying unknown amongst his countrymen; whereas, had he been in Europe, he
might have been taught to be a great sculptor.
I had now a baby son, but Paul had no children, for which I was sorry,
as it might have rendered him quite contented with his lot. For myself I
desired no change; if at times I felt home-sick, it was but a passing
feeling, and I soon forgot it in the caresses of Azolta and the prattle
of our babe.
One day Zolca proposed to me a long excursion to the northward. There
was a river there which he had visited as a boy, but which he had never
been to since. We went with a small party, well armed, for it was very
likely that we would fall in with the Papoos. Paul preferred remaining
at home, and as I at last began to trust him, I saw no objection to the
trip.
It was three days’ journey to the river, which much resembled the one we
lived on, only the banks were not so fertile. It ran into a bay similar
to ours, except that the entrance was blocked by a reef apparently
running right across, for a line of breakers stretched from headland to
headland. Game was plentiful in the valley of this river, and we spent a
day there hunting.
In the afternoon I was down on one of the headlands, noticing how much
the formation of the bay resembled our own, when, happening to look
towards the north, I was astonished to see a full-rigged ship in the
distance. Hastily calling Zolca I drew his attention to it, explaining
that these were the enemies to be feared far more than the pirates. The
wind was light, and she was coming on under easy sail, apparently
examining the coast-line as closely as she dared. The tide had risen
considerably, and the line of breakers had nearly disappeared, so that
the entrance to the bay looked smooth and inviting.
I had been extremely puzzled what to do, but had now made up my mind and
communicated my idea to Zolca. By my advice we removed all our clothing
and made ourselves as like the Papoos as possible; then, retaining all
our weapons, we patrolled the headland in full view of the ship. My
stratagem succeeded. When opposite the bay she hove to and lowered a
boat, evidently with the intention of examining the bay and surrounding
country. My instructions were to make a hostile demonstration, but to
avoid bloodshed; fire arrows over their heads and around them, but on
no account to hit anybody.
The boat came swiftly in, and I noticed the admiration in Zolca’s eyes,
who had only seen the clumsy rowing of the pirates. Once inside the bay
we commenced our mimic warfare. The crew lay on their oars, and the
officer in charge stood up and endeavoured by signs to make us
understand that he wished to land peacefully. Of this we took no heed,
but shot our arrows all around the boat. I could see that the men were
getting uneasy, and at last the officer lost patience, and drawing a
long-barrelled pistol fired at us. I had warned the others not to show
any fear if this should happen; and we only redoubled our gestures of
defiance, making as if we would rush into the water, on which crew
precipitately backed out. The officer then tried to land in other
places, but we followed the boat round until at last he gave it up and
returned to the ship. Apparently his report of us and the country was so
unfavourable that she hoisted all sail, and, keeping well out from the
coast, went on down south before a fair wind, and I had every
anticipation that she would pass the mouth of our bay during the dark
hours of the night.
My feelings were very strange at thus frightening my countrymen off the
coast, when a few years back I would have hailed them with tears of joy;
but the change in Paul had so affected me that I could not believe that
they would keep faith, even if we allowed them to land and make friends.
I was rarely glad, however, that we had succeeded in disgusting them
with the country without shedding blood, and still more pleased when, on
reaching home, we found that the ship had not been sighted, so that she
must have passed in the night.
Still she was a looming danger. She had gone south, and would possibly
come back again. Paul said little, and displayed no great interest when
he heard of the vessel.
I have said that in this country the seasons were wet and dry, rather
than hot and cold. The wet season was now approaching, and squalls from
the north-west were frequent. The buildings of the Quadrucos were built
on rising ground, they having had some bitter experiences of former
floods in the river; but for all that I pointed out to Zolca ancient
flood-marks, or what I took to be such, above the site of their present
habitation. He only laughed and said that no such flood had occurred as
far as their traditions went back.
Strict orders had been issued that, in the event of the strange ship
showing from the south, everyone was to remain out of sight. The canoes
were removed to a secluded cove, and all marks of occupation effaced
from the seaward view. I even proposed taking down Gonneville’s Cross,
which was a standing invitation for a ship to send in and examine it.
Zolca, however, would not hear of it, in fact I am sure the people would
not have allowed us to do it. He, however, suggested that we should mask
it with boughs in the event of the ship appearing.
My forebodings were too true. Early one morning the glint of a white
sail to the southward told us that the discovery-ship was on her way
back. The Cross was easily hidden behind some palm-trees which we cut
down for the purpose, and we anxiously waited for what would result.
The day was fine, the ship came on at a fair rate of speed, and in
about a couple of hours or less was abreast of the bay.
It will be remembered that between our bay and the one to the north
there was a great resemblance, and, having formerly passed our bay in
the night and not knowing of its existence, I was in great hopes that
they would take it to be the one where they had tried to land before,
and not think it worth while to examine it again. It would have all
happened just as I wished but for the treachery of my old comrade Paul.
Suddenly she changed her course and came close in to the shore.
Astonished at this manœuvre I looked round for the cause, which was not
far to find. Whilst all eyes had been fixed seaward, the traitor had
removed the screen of boughs from the Cross, and, not content with this,
had climbed the post and fastened a long streamer of red stuff to the
top.
Zolca’s eyes were like burning coals, and had the culprit been in sight
it would have fared hard with him. I saw that we must act quickly.
“Order the men back to the town,” I said. “Let Namoa see that they all
retain their arms and keep in readiness. Also,” and I looked Zolca
straight in the eyes, “order them to secure Paul, _dead or alive_!”
Our only hope now was to prevent Paul having any communication with the
landing-party. The men drew quietly back to the town, and Zolca and I
and about a dozen men awaited the coming of the boat which had been
lowered and was heading towards us.
We stood grouped on the beach; at our backs, on the crest of the rise,
towered the great Cross of De Gonneville, which a second Judas had just
contaminated. We must have presented a strange picture to the officers
who sat in the stern of the approaching boat.
She ran lightly up the beach and two sailors jumped out and held her,
one on each side, while the officers landed. I advanced a few paces to
meet them. One was a swaggering, red-faced fellow, with a long, blonde
moustache curled at the ends, the very type of men I have seen reeling
out of the taverns in Harlem. The other was grave and dignified, and to
him I naturally addressed myself.
“May I inquire, sir, your name, and that of your vessel?”
Both men started and stared in amazement, and no wonder, at hearing
themselves thus addressed by an inhabitant of Terra Australis.
“Who are you, in the name of wonder?” stammered one at last.
“I am from Holland, and was shipwrecked here many years ago. I have
adopted this country as my own, and am now one of these people. This,” I
said, motioning to Zolca to come forward, “is Prince Zolca, the chief of
this country, who bids you welcome.”
Zolca, who had been tutored by me, held out his hand and the officer I
had been addressing took it respectfully. The fellow with the red face
curled his moustache and looked on with a sneer.
“May I inquire the name of your ship?” continued the officer.
Now I knew that this question would be asked and had puzzled much over
the answer. I determined to tell the truth, for I had undergone my
undeserved punishment.
“My name is Diedrich Buys, of Harlem, I was clerk on board the
_Batavia_. Although innocent of any misdeed I was found amongst the
mutineers and marooned here by Commander Pelsart.”
“Incredible!” said the officer. “’Tis over a thousand leagues from here
to where the _Batavia_ struck on the Abrolhos.”
“It took us four years to reach here,” I said.
“Ah! I heard that two men had been put on shore. Where is your
companion?”
“He is here, but absent just now.”
“My name,” said the officer I had spoken to, “is Hoogstraaten, commander
of the _Selwaert_; this is my second officer, Herr Arendsoon.”
The gentleman indicated inclined his head haughtily, and I gave him an
equally stiff nod.
“Prince Zolca,” I said, “wishes me to ask you gentlemen to his house. I
will guarantee your safety.”
Commander Hoogstraaten bowed an assent; I heard the other whisper
something about “a trap”, but he was frowned down.
“We first went to the Cross, and I told Hoogstraaten of De Gonneville’s
visit and how we had been welcomed as friends of his. He had read of
the Norman’s voyage and was deeply interested in what I told him. We
then went forward to the scattered town of the Quadrucos. Hoogstraaten
looked with intelligent interest on the strange and novel sights, whilst
Arendsoon dawdled along, twirling his moustache and leering at any of
the pretty girls we passed; for the Quadrucos, after their usual simple,
harmless fashion, had lined the sides of the pathway to see the
strangers, although there was no rude pushing or crowding.
Arrived at the palace I invited the two officers in, and Azolta received
them as I had instructed her to do. The boy brought cups of green
cocoa-nut milk, and Zolca and I pledged our guests. While a meal was
being prepared in another room, for we had enlarged the palace, I showed
Hoogstraaten the Latin missal and sword left by De Gonneville. Zolca
despatched some men to the boat’s crew with refreshment.
During our meal I related the details of our journey to the commander,
who was anxious to get some knowledge of the country for the Company. I
could only assure him that all we had passed through was barren and
unprofitable. The natives were half-starved wretches who just managed to
live, and that was all. There was nothing whatever to induce the Company
to form settlements. Even the valley we were in was but a small patch of
fertile country surrounded by a wilderness.
Hoogstraaten, who was evidently devoted to his work, seemed much pleased
at obtaining so much reliable information of the unknown land, and when
we rose from our meal, to which the strangers had done ample justice, he
gladly acceded to my invitation for a stroll up the valley. Arendsoon,
who had greatly annoyed me by staring openly and admiringly at Azolta
during our repast, excused himself on the ground of being unused to
walking, so he stayed behind.