The Kangaroo Hunters; Or, Adventures in the Bush

CHAPTER XV

The Tea-Shrub. – Another Canoe. – A Skirmish with the Natives. – Wounded Heroes. – An Attempt at Voyaging. – A Field of Battle. – The Widowed Jin. – Wilkins's Sorrows. – Baldabella in Society. – The Voyage resumed

"When are we to dine – or sup, rather – commander?" said Hugh; "I am so famished, that I could eat one of those noisy cockatoos half-cooked, and Margaret looks very pale and weary."

"We must try to reach one of those green hills before us," said Arthur; "we shall there be pretty certain to meet with some cave or hollow, where we can at least, stow our luggage; and then our cares and our sleep will be lighter; and as we go along, we will plunder some nests, that Margaret may have eggs for her supper."

They took as many eggs and young birds as they required, and went on till they found, among the hills, a hollow, capacious enough for a night's lodging, and here they made a fire to cook the birds and to boil the tea in a large mussel-shell. Ruth bemoaned again her awkwardness in breaking the tea-cups; for now they had to sip the infusion of leaves from cockle-shells. Wilkins declined the luxury; but the rest enjoyed it, and declared that it not only had the flavor of tea, but even of tea with sugar, which was an inestimable advantage.

"The plant is certainly saccharine," pronounced Mr. Mayburn.

"If it had only been lacteal too," said Hugh, "we might have had a perfect cup of tea; but, papa, don't you think it has a little of the aroma of the camomile tea with which nurse used to vex us after the Christmas feasts?"

"It is certainly not the genuine tea," answered Mr. Mayburn, "the peculiar Théa of China; but, doubtless, custom, would reconcile us to its peculiar flavor. We are surrounded with blessings, my children; and, above all, have reason to be thankful for this sweet tranquillity."

But, just as he spoke, a distant coo-ee from the woods proclaimed that they were not out of the reach of the usual cares of life; and they hastily extinguished the fire and retired into the rocky shelter, trusting that the darkness would prevent any discovery.

As soon as the daylight permitted him, Jack commenced to make the canoes, which the dangerous vicinity of the natives rendered immediately necessary. He roused his young masters, and Hugh and Gerald readily agreed to assist him; while Arthur made his way through the marsh to the side of the river, to select a convenient place for crossing it.

But he could see no possibility of landing on the opposite side, which was guarded by perpendicular cliffs; and with much uneasiness he proceeded up the river in hopes of seeing an opening, to which they might venture to cross. But after walking some distance, he thought it best to return to the family, to propose that they should take a hasty breakfast, and then move at once higher up the river, with watchfulness and caution, till they found the south banks more favorable for their attempt. There was no time to prepare tea, to the disappointment of the women: cold pheasant and cockatoo formed the breakfast. Then every one shouldered his burden, and the half-finished canoe was carried off, to be completed under more favorable circumstances.

They had walked without interruption for about two miles, when Margaret observed to her brother Arthur, that an opening in the mangrove belt, that ran along the banks of the river, would allow them to pass through, and afford them a safer and more advantageous track than their present exposed road. They could then select at once a shallow ford, or a flat strand, on the opposite banks, to facilitate their crossing.

"Let us hasten over the swamp," said she, "and secure this important advantage. Dear papa is in continual alarm on these open plains, and I am quite losing my usual courage."

But as they drew near the opening to the water, Arthur, always thoughtful, felt a distrust of this singular interruption of the close entangled belt of the river. "See here, Margaret," said he. "Beneath the roots of this mangrove you have a perfect leafy arbor, with walls of brilliant and fragrant creepers. In this pleasant bower I propose that we should leave you and your maidens, my father, and all our property, while I lead my brave little band forward to reconnoitre before we proceed farther."

The tears stood in the eyes of the affectionate sister as she submitted to this prudent arrangement, and saw her dearly-loved brothers and their faithful attendants prepare to set out on this service of danger.

"You can keep Ruth tied to one of these root columns," said Gerald, "and gag her if she opens her mouth for a scream." Then making a grimace at the trembling girl, the laughing youth followed his friends.

"Gerald is not in earnest, my poor girl," said Mr. Mayburn; "but it is nevertheless important – nay, it is even imperative – that you should preserve absolute silence and immobility."

"That is, Ruth," said Margaret, interpreting the order, "you must sit quite still and hold your tongue, whatever may happen."

The little band marched on till they came to the opening of the road, and they now saw that the trees had been burned down, and the space purposely cleared. This was a startling sight, and before they could determine whether they should retreat or go forward, two natives appeared, approaching from the river-side, who no sooner set eyes on the formidable strangers, than they turned back hastily, and fled out of sight.

"Let us be prepared for defence," said Arthur; "but, if possible, we will meet them amicably. We will stand abreast in a line, and look as bold as we can."

Loud yells were now heard, and soon a number of men confronted the small band, armed, as usual, with spears and throwing-sticks. They were apparently much excited, though not painted for war. Arthur held out a green bough, and made friendly signs to them, continuing slowly to approach with his companions. For a minute or two the savages seemed struck dumb and motionless with astonishment; then at once, they resumed their yells, leaping and whirling their spears in a threatening manner.

Still undeterred in their wish for peace, the bold youths walked forward till a spear flew amongst them and wounded Wilkins in the shoulder; who then rushed forward, uttering a loud execration, and, with a huge club he carried, struck the man who had thrown the spear senseless to the ground. With frightful cries the natives flung more spears, while two of them seized Wilkins; but he shook them off, as if they had been infants, and a volley of arrows from his friends directed the attention of the assailants from him; for every arrow had done execution. Wilkins then drew back into the ranks and cried out, "The rifle, sir! the rifle I say, or we're all dead men!"

There could indeed be no hesitation now, and Arthur fired one of his barrels, intending the charge to pass over the heads of the enemy; but one tall savage, who was leaping at the moment, received the shot in his cheek and head, and fell back into the arms of his companions, who bore him off with dismal lamentations, and the rest followed hastily, carrying away the senseless body of the man struck down by Wilkins.

They saw the savages force their way among the mangroves higher up the river, and flee to the hills at the north; and, confident that they were at present in safety, Arthur anxiously reviewed his forces. Wilkins looked very pale, and the spear was still sticking in his shoulder. Hugh was stretching out a bloody hand, grazed somewhat severely, while Gerald was waving triumphantly a large sombrero hat, woven of rushes by Margaret, and which now bore the noble crest of a spear which had pierced, and carried it from his head, without injuring him.

"Sure, and won't the Lady Margaret bestow her glove on me," cried the wild boy, "when she sees the honors I have brought away upon my knightly helmet?"

"It's been a close shave, young fellow," grumbled Wilkins, as he succeeded with a groan, in drawing out the spear, which was followed by such a flow of blood, that Arthur thought it expedient to send the two boys with him to Margaret, that his wound might be dressed; while Jack and he hastily surveyed the field for which the party had fought and bled.

A wide cleared space, sloping gradually to the river, was covered with various articles hastily abandoned. Clubs, boomerangs, heaps of wild oats, with shells of the fresh-water mussel, and bones of fish. Large sheets of bark were placed round the spot, lined with grass, and apparently used as beds. On these Jack cast a longing eye and said, "Bark is cheap enough for them that have arms and knives, Mr. Arthur, and these come quite convenient for our boats just now; and no harm at all, I think."

"Well, Jack," answered Arthur, "I think my father's scruples would not oppose such an appropriation. But can we cross at once? There seems a tolerable landing-place nearly opposite."

"We must get the canoes ready for launching as fast as we can," replied Jack; "for we cannot do better than cross, to get out of the way of those fellows, who will be sure to come back for their things. I'll just borrow this handy axe a bit: we can leave it behind us when we go."

Jack did not lose time; two of the bark beds were nearly transformed into canoes by the time that Arthur had gone to the mangrove bower and brought up all the party, with the unfinished canoe and the luggage.

Wilkins had his arm in a sling; but, though he certainly was suffering much, he made light of his wound, and Hugh had his hand bound up.

"This is a bad job, Mr. Arthur, for two to be laid off work when we're so sharp set," said Wilkins. "I say, master, ye'll be forced to lend a hand," addressing Mr. Mayburn.

"My good man," replied he, "I am willing to undertake any labor suited to my capacity; but I fear that I am but an indifferent mechanic."

Hugh and Gerald laughed heartily at the idea of papa with a hammer or an axe in his hand.

"Nay, nay, master," continued Wilkins, "ye'll turn out a poor hand wi' yer tools, I reckon; but we'll learn ye to paddle these floats. I'se be fit for a bit work, 'cause, ye see, I've gettin my right arm; but that poor lad's quite laid off wi' his right hand torn. Gather up some of them bits of bark to make paddles, Master Gerald."

"But no spears or weapons, Gerald," added Mr. Mayburn. "We must not carry off the property of these men, however inimical they are to us."

"Why, begging yer pardon, master," replied Wilkins; "there's them there spears as was stuck into us, we'se surelie keep. Ye couldn't expect on us to send them things as rove our flesh off our bones back to 'em wi' our compliments and we were obliged to 'em."

"That would certainly be an excess of honesty," said Arthur; "and I think with you, Wilkins, that we are entitled to the three spears that injured us. For oars and paddles we have abundance of materials; I only grieve that we have so few hands; but those are able and willing to work; so let us hasten to get ready for the water."

Two hours elapsed, however, before the three sound workmen were able to get all ready for the launch. In the mean time Wilkins and Hugh had searched for the nests of the water-fowl, and taken a supply of young birds, which the women had roasted for present and future provisions.

Finally, three bark canoes were launched, each containing three persons, and the river was crossed in safety. Finding they could manage their little barks satisfactorily, they then agreed to row up the river as long as it was practicable, which would, at all events, be less laborious than walking with heavy burdens.

Without any alarms, except from seeing the smoke of distant fires on the shore they had left, they had passed through beautiful and diversified scenery for many miles, before the rapid close of the day warned them to land; and under an overhanging cliff on the south bank of the river, they drew their canoes on shore, and encamped for the night.

Satisfied with their pleasant and expeditious mode of travelling, they resumed their route next morning, and with the necessary interruptions of landing for supplies of the plentiful food that surrounded them, and for needful rest, they continued for many days to voyage on the same broad river; and though they occasionally saw smoke rising on the north side, they never met with any of the natives.

But at length this desirable tranquillity was disturbed; for one day they were alarmed by sounds which they recognized as the angry yells of the savages in their fury, and they knew some fearful contention was taking place. The sounds proceeded from the south shore, and the river being at least two hundred yards broad at this part, they rowed to the north bank, in order to place a wide barrier between themselves and the contending savages.

Loud and louder grew the yells and cries when they drew near the scene of action, and curiosity induced them to rest on their oars, though they could not see the combat; but gradually the sounds died away, and it was plain the contending parties had shifted their field of battle.

After all had been quiet for some time, the boys begged earnestly that they might be allowed to land and view the scene from whence these discordant cries arose; and, at last, leaving Jack, Hugh, and Mr. Mayburn in charge of the canoes, Arthur with Gerald and Wilkins stepped on shore, and making their way through the jungle, came on a widely-spread, woody country, and saw, at no great distance, the scattered spears and clubs, which indicated that they were really upon the field of battle.

Cautiously drawing near, they were shocked to meet with the bodies of native men, transfixed by spears or destroyed by clubs. They gazed with deep distress upon this sad sight, and were preparing to return, when they were startled by hearing a low sobbing sound, followed by a shrill faint cry, and searching round among the low bushes, they found a native woman mourning over the body of one of the slain, while clinging to her was a child about four years old. They approached hastily; but no sooner did the woman see them, than she caught up her child, and would have fled, but Wilkins caught her arm, and pointing to the dead body, spoke a few words to her in a jargon he had acquired during his residence in the colony, which she seemed to understand, for she replied by some words in a low, musical voice.

"It's the poor fellow's jin, ye see," said he.

"His jin!" said Gerald, laughing. "What is a jin, Wilkins?"

"Why, all one as we should say his wife," replied Wilkins; "and there's nought to laugh at, Master Gerald, for she seems, poor body! like to die hersel'. I'se a bad hand at talking in their way; ye see its mair like a bird chirruping nor our folks rough talk. My big tongue cannot frame to sing out like a blackbird. Now there was Peter – "

The woman uttered a scream of terror as Wilkins pronounced the name, and looking wildly round, she clasped the child, repeating distinctly, in accents of fear, "Peter! Peter!"

"She knows the rogue, I'll be bound!" exclaimed Wilkins, endeavoring by words and signs to obtain some information from her.

The woman pointed to the bleeding body at her feet, made a sign of stabbing, and again uttered in a vindictive tone, "Peter!" And on examining the wounds of the corpse, Wilkins pointed out to Arthur that they were not inflicted by the spear; for the man had been evidently stabbed to the heart by a sharp long-bladed weapon.

"That's been Peter's knife, I'd swear," said he, "and the sooner we take off, the better, for he's an ugly neighbor; – poor body! she may well have a scared look!"

As they turned away, the woman, it appeared, had read pity in their eyes, for she put her child into the hands of Arthur, and pointing towards the west, again murmured the name of Peter, and signified that he would return to murder her child and herself. Then lying down by the body of her husband, she closed her eyes, indicating that she must die there.

"What are we to do, Mr. Arthur?" said Wilkins, with tears on his rough cheeks; "my heart just warks for her. But ye see – maybe as how master and miss wouldn't be for havin' such an a half dementet, ondecent body amang 'em. What are we to do? Will ye just say? Sure as we're here, if we leave her, that rascal will kill her; for ye see this dead fellow, he's a big 'un, and likely he'd been again Peter, for he'd be like a head amang 'em."

"Oh, let us take both the woman and her child," said Gerald. "I will run forward to carry the child to Margaret and bring back some clothes for the unhappy mourner;" and without waiting for any sanction to his proceedings, he set off to the canoes with his prize. The alarmed woman started up, and looked anxiously after her child; but Wilkins made her understand she should also follow it, and she appeared satisfied. It was not long before O'Brien returned, accompanied by Jenny, who brought a loose garment for the astonished woman, on whose scanty toilet the neat old woman looked with unqualified disapprobation, as she assisted in arraying her more consistently with civilized customs; or, as she termed it, "made her decent."

Somewhat uncertain of the prudence of making this addition to their party, Arthur led the way to the boats, determined to consult his father and Margaret before the matter was determined. When the poor widow saw her child, dressed in a temporary costume of silk handkerchiefs, and holding Margaret's hand, in great contentment, her eyes glistened with pleasure, and going up to Mr. Mayburn and Margaret, she threw herself down on the strand, with her face to the ground, in an attitude of submission to her protectors.

"Poor creature," said Mr. Mayburn; "can we not restore her to her people, Wilkins? You know something of her language – inquire her wishes."

"I can partly make out what she says, master," answered he; "but I frame badly in hitting on them singsong queer words. I take it, all her friends have been killed right away, and she wants to stay wi' us."

"She's not a fit body to be company to Miss Marget," said nurse. "You're like to see that yourself, Wilkins."

"And if I did see that, Mrs. Jenny," answered Wilkins, in a sharp tone, "and I can't say I did see 't, it's wiser heads nor yours and mine as ought to settle that. They say God made us all akin, and it's, maybe, true; but there's a strange deal of difference among us, nowadays, I consate. Now, I'd not like to say that monkey-like, dark-avised poor creater were born sister to my bonnie Susan Raine, as I ought to have wed, Mrs. Jenny, if I hadn't turned out a graceless."

"It is strange, Wilkins," said Margaret, "that there was a fine, well-behaved young woman, named Susan Raine, came over with us in the Amoor. She was with one of the emigrant families that Mr. Deverell brought over from England."

"It's now better nor two years sin' I got a letter wrote to her, Miss," said Wilkins, greatly moved; "but, like me, ye see, she's no scholar, and I heared nought from her, and I judged she'd wed another. Then I cared nought what came on me; and I consorted wi' Black Peter, and such chaps, and took any job of work to get away from yon gallows hole, when I found as how she'd not look at me. What like was she ye talked on, Miss?"

"She was a fair, blue-eyed woman," answered Margaret, "with yellow hair, and a bright color; and she spoke with a north-country accent."

"God forgive me all my sins, and bring me to that lass," said Wilkins, "for I'se clear on 't, it was just my Sue. Mind ye tie me up, Mr. Arthur, if that bad fellow, Black Peter, comes nigh us; I ken he'll want to nab me, and make a rogue on me again."

"You must ask God to give you strength to resist the temptations of such a wretch," said Mr. Mayburn, "and your prayers will be heard. A great and good man has said of prayer, that it is

 
'A stream, which from the fountain of the heart
Issuing, however feebly, nowhere flows
Without access of unexpected strength.'"
 

"Ay, it seems a grand hymn," answered Wilkins; "but I mind short prayers best, and I'se try, master, to stick to 'em; for ye ken I'se but a soft good-to-nought. But it may please God to make summut out on me yet; and wi' my own will, I'se niver leave ye."

The question of admitting the unfortunate woman among them was soon decided. She crouched down in the stern of one of the canoes, holding the child on her lap; and the river being fortunately very smooth, they were enabled, though much crowded, to row off with the additional weight, being anxious to leave the spot before the natives should return to collect their spears. Besides, from the woman's words and signs they comprehended that the victorious combatants would come back to take her life and that of her child.