Hoogstraaten again--Zolca recovers--Visit to Wreck Bay--A Strange
Discovery.
Needless to say, Gunner Hessel was delighted with his success, and
undertook to teach the best of his natives the tricks of gunnery, so
that no vessel could ever enter the bay. This was good boasting, but
could be excused at such a time; moreover, stern Nature finally took it
out of all our hands, so far as this matter was concerned.
Zolca had momentarily benefited by the excitement of watching the fight,
but I prayed for the return of Hoogstraaten, who had a surgeon on board,
for a reaction set in, and the king seemed to grow weaker again.
Meantime the many busy hands had almost restored the town, and, although
it would take several years before the cocoa-nut trees grew to their
former height and beauty, nearly all other signs of invasion had
disappeared; so that when at last the welcome arrival of Hoogstraaten’s
vessels was announced, he could hardly believe that we could have done
so much in such a short time.
He was deeply grieved at the news of Zolca’s illness, and how it was
caused, and said viciously to me:
“Now, if you had let me hang that fellow with the others this would
never have happened!”
The surgeon, too, looked grave, and told me that the king would never
recover the use of his left arm. Otherwise, he would probably soon get
strong enough to go about.
Hoogstraaten was highly interested in the account of the discomfiture of
the junk, and the able manner in which Hessel had handled his guns. He
warmly praised him, and the burly fellow grinned all over his face with
pleasure, for Hoogstraaten was a man both loved and feared by his crew.
He was the man of that age and those seas, and I trust that his name as
a navigator and discoverer will live for ever.
In return he told me that they had been successful in their search for
the two casks of rix-dollars, and that he had been able to map out the
coast more accurately than his predecessors had done.
Under the care of the surgeon, Zolca grew better, and was able to walk
about with his useless arm in a sling. Hoogstraaten had delayed his
departure as long as he possibly could, in order that Zolca might have
the attendance of the surgeon. He now had to leave, and it was with the
deepest regret I parted from him. Vanstrooken had recovered, and the
little cloud between us had passed away.
Zolca, Azolta, and I stood on the beach after bidding Hoogstraaten
farewell, and watched his boat speed swiftly to his ship. Once he stood
up in the stern and waved his hat to us, then he went on board, the boat
was hoisted up, and with a favouring wind the two discovery-ships
threaded the entrance to the bay and so stood out to sea.
As they passed the headland Namoa and some of the trained men stationed
there fired the gun, in compliment to Hessel. The ships dipped their
flags and each fired a gun in reply; then they spread all canvas for the
north, and that was the last my companions ever saw of the gallant and
generous Captain Hoogstraaten. I saw him again, but under far different
circumstances.
The next few months were busy ones. Zolca fretted over the uselessness
of his arm; but his health was soon restored, and that made him more
contented with his lot.
Things began to smile once more in the valley; the girls danced and sang
as before in the calm, soft evenings, and wore flowers in their hair,
and the old peaceful life seemed to have come back again.
As I had never been along the coast to the north I proposed to Zolca to
take the largest boat we had, and with a few men sail up to the bay
where I first saw Hoogstraaten, or “Wreck Bay” as we had named it. Zolca
was tired of inactivity and gladly consented.
We started, taking some of our men with their firelocks, and a good
supply of provisions. Azolta could not accompany us on account of the
children.
Leaving the bay we found the shore to the north fringed with mangroves,
so that we could not see dry land. Creeks and openings were common
amongst these trees, and up some of them we went; but they led to
nowhere, and we always had to return. Dismal-looking places these creeks
were. Nothing could be seen on either hand but mud and ooze and the
stems of these strange trees which grow in a distorted manner from many
roots, and when the tide is low these roots are left bare.
Here I saw for the first time the crocodile, such as I had seen in
pictures of Egypt. It was like a huge lizard, and it lay on a little
patch of sand, basking in the sun. Neither Zolca nor the Indians had
ever seen this gigantic reptile before, and they did not seem to like
to approach it; for these creatures never came in to our bay, being, for
aught I know, frightened of the sharks. I whispered to the men to fire
at it, and with one accord they fired a volley at it. This roused the
brute effectually, although it did not seem to be badly wounded, or
scarcely more than tickled. It lashed out its tail and plunged into the
water. When the men saw its great length and girth and enormous jaws,
they made sure it was coming to attack the boat and, taking to the oars,
pulled away with a will. I, too, thought it would have been better to
have let the brute alone; but it did not come near us, and we saw no
more of it.
However, we did not enter any more of these dismal creeks, and coming on
to a nice open beach without any surf, we landed and rested for the
night. About the middle of the following day we reached Wreck Bay.
All signs of the unfortunate _Selwaert_ had disappeared; but the camp on
the shore where the men had been working still remained. Here we camped
for the night and slept soundly enough, all save Zolca who was always
restless now. In the middle of the night he roused me up and drew my
attention to a light on the other side of the bay.
“Papoos!” he whispered.
I did not think so, for I knew from my experience that the Papoos made
many fires when they camped. Here there was but one. I persuaded Zolca
to wait until daylight, for he proposed to steal round and fire a volley
into the camp in the darkness. By my advice he agreed to wait until it
was light enough to find out the cause of the fire.
When morning came we went round and found that the Papoos had been there
and set fire to a dry log, which had been smouldering for some days; the
wind during the night had freshened it into a flame. But this was not
all, the Papoos had been there in large numbers and a fight had taken
place. A fight and more than a fight; a feast as well--for these black
Indians are cannibals and eat one another.
Zolca and the other Quadrucos looked at the remnants of human bodies in
deep disgust, for the Quadrucos were very dainty eaters; they preferred
the flesh of fish and fowls and, above all, the vegetables that they
grew and the green cocoa-nuts. But these wretched Papoos were, I knew,
often starving, although those that Paul and I lived amongst near the
Abrolhos were not cannibals.
Suddenly Zolca started and drew my attention to a dried and shrivelled
head, lying a short distance away. It was the head of a Mongol. One,
perhaps two, of the pirates had escaped and made their way overland to
this bay, where they had remained watching for another junk to come
along, and meanwhile living on the fish with which the bay swarmed.
Here, then, they had lingered until surprised and slaughtered by the
Papoos.
“This is a bay of evil omen,” said Zolca; “let us go home.”
We were soon skirting the mangroves once more and speedily reached our
own bay early the next morning.
The wet season was now approaching and by the following autumn, which in
Terra Australis is exactly opposite to ours, being in April and May, we
anticipated having our crops, of one sort or another, in good order
again.
Zolca was growing more resigned to his lot, and Azolta recovered some of
her wonted spirits, so that life promised to flow on in the same even
tide as before.