The Kangaroo Hunters; Or, Adventures in the Bush

CHAPTER XXIII

A Bark Sledge. – The Friendly Tribe. – The Wild Melon. – A Nocturnal Alarm. – The Wombats. – The Bivouac on the Heath. – The Savages again. – Away to the South

The women had prepared breakfast, and Arthur was becoming impatient, before Jack and the two young boys appeared, dragging after them a large sheet of bark, to which they had attached ropes.

"It was Jack's thought!" exclaimed Gerald. "Is it not a capital plan? – the baggage-wagon! Off with your knapsack, Arty; Jenny, bring your pots and pans. Every thing must be tied on our sledge, and we will draw it in turns – two men to form a team."

"It will be a great relief, certainly," said Arthur, "so long as the plains continue tolerably clear and level; but, I fear, over the matted brush or the rugged mountain we shall find it useless."

"Why then, Mr. Arthur," said Jack, "it will only be taking up our loads a bit, and leaving the sledge. We can soon cut another sheet when the road gets smoother."

The sledge answered admirably, and, relieved from their burdens, they went on for several days, over well-watered and well-wooded plains, without interruption, and without delay, except when the disengaged youths lingered behind to shoot a few pheasants or cockatoos, that the bread might not be too soon exhausted. In a week after they had left the cave, they saw kangaroos again, and even the sledge was abandoned, that all might join in the chase. After a long hunt, they succeeded in killing one; and the weather being now less sultry, they were able to preserve the meat for two days. The skin was cleaned and dried, and then converted into bags for the biscuit, for showers of rain still fell occasionally, and they had been compelled to take off their cloaks to protect their valuable food.

One evening, an unwelcome return of the heavy rain induced them to look anxiously round for some shelter, and turning round a clump of tall bushes, they came suddenly on a cluster of scattered huts, formed of green boughs and open in front. Beneath these canopies several women, wearing cloaks of fur, were employed in pounding grain or nuts between two stones, while they sung some song in a low, musical tone, and in perfect harmony.

Outside the huts stood several tall men. They had a single loose garment of fur cast round them, but the bust was wholly uncovered, and marked by many raised cicatrices. They were engaged in making arrows or spears, and never raised their heads from their employment; but, with the usual dignified indifference of the savage, did not appear to notice the approach of the strangers, though probably they had never before seen the white man. Even the women continued their work and their song; and it was only when Baldabella, who had been introduced by her protectors, went forward, holding her child, to ask the women to give some good white people shelter from the rain in their huts, that the men turned to listen, and the women suspended their labor. The head of the family, pointing out an empty hut, spoke to Baldabella, and said, as she interpreted his words, "That very good for white man; for black man; plenty rain make much cold."

Glad of the refuge, while Baldabella remained to talk to the women of the tribe, the rest took possession of the slight hut, and prepared their supper of the remains of the kangaroo, of which they invited their friendly hosts to partake. The natives now assembled round them with some curiosity, tasted the seethed kangaroo, and seemed to relish it; rejected the roasted potatoes with disgust, but greedily enjoyed the biscuit, especially the jumbles, as the boys called them, which were flavored with the juice of the figs.

Then the women in return for this hospitality, brought to them some pods, which Arthur recognized to be the fruit of the Acacia stenophylla, the seeds, or nuts, resembling in flavor the cachou-nut. They brought also a small melon, or cucumber, now ripe and sweet, with which the plains that the travellers had crossed this day had been covered; but they had not ventured to eat it till now, when they saw how the natives enjoyed it.

"It certainly belongs to one of the most useful orders of plants considered as the food of man," said Mr. Mayburn; "and, as far as I can determine from recollection, I believe it to be the Cucumis pubescens. This is truly a country of rich and abundant resources; wanting but the light of civilization and religion to render it a paradise."

"Surely, papa," said Margaret, "our countrymen acted unwisely when they suffered the first steps into these lovely and untrodden wilds to be made by the vilest of criminals. Alas! alas! what must the ignorant natives think of such Christian missionaries!"

"It was an error, Margaret," answered her father, "wide in its mischief, fatal in its results; and generations must pass away before the error can be rectified. But a purer and holier influence is at work; and, in his own good time, God will assuredly enlighten the people, through the efforts of his faithful servants. Would that I were able to take my share in the great work! but, alas! I am but the barren fig-tree, and continually I hear that awful sentence ringing in my ear, 'Cut it down; why cumbereth it the ground?'"

The earnest father then called on his family to kneel in prayer, while the natives stood round in silent wonder, especially when they remarked the devout demeanor of Baldabella, and heard the little child murmuring in English the responses, in imitation of her kind teachers. After prayers the women seemed to be earnestly questioning Baldabella; and Margaret was pleased to hear the woman speak long and earnestly to the questioners, for she was convinced that Baldabella was truly a Christian in faith, so far as her simple mind could comprehend the faith.

Though they considered it prudent to keep a watch, the sleep of the family was not disturbed by any fears, for these natives seemed quiet and inoffensive; and through Baldabella they learnt that they had ever shunned the restless and destructive tribes to the north, and a still more dangerous people, whom they spoke of with terror, as the tribes of the "Great River," to the south. But, the interpreter added, they did not like the white people who came to kill the menuah, as they named the kangaroo; and the emu, and to carry off their weapons. But they were satisfied that these white strangers were peaceful like themselves, and they wished them well, and would show them the way through the mountains.

The weary travellers gratefully accepted this offer, for the prospect of having to ascend, without guidance, a line of mountains which cut off their progress to the south, and of being compelled to resume their heavy burdens, was alarming. Early in the morning they sought the women, to present them with some biscuit and with a pair of fowls, of which Baldabella undertook to explain the great usefulness, and the domestic habits and proper mode of feeding.

Then they once more set out, guided by the chief among the natives; and having skirted the mountains for three or four miles to the east, found a narrow gorge, through which a shallow rill ran towards the south, along the flowery margin of which they passed till they came upon another wide plain, less wooded and fertile than that which they had left, but grown over with the Cucumis laden with fruit. This plain was perforated with dangerous holes, which their guide told them were the dens of a large animal, very fierce, which he called the Wombat, and which the boys were filled with a great desire to encounter and vanquish.

Once on the plains, the native pointed out the direction which they were to follow, greatly to the east of south. He shook his head when they intimated their wish to proceed due south, and, according to Baldabella, declared there was "no water" – a most important objection to the route. Arthur gave the man one of the table-knives, much to the discontent of Jenny and the great delight of the receiver; and the gratified native stood watching them for some time, and then slowly returned to his people.

"Now for the wombats!" exclaimed Gerald, looking anxiously down into one of the dens of these unknown animals. But all was still and dark; and Arthur begged that there might be no delay, as, in all probability, the animals could only be drawn from their retreats by dogs, or be surprised by long watching, and time was now too precious to be spent on such an uncertain pursuit. Continuing, therefore, to follow the course of the slender rivulet, which, however, soon became but a chain of pools, they travelled for several miles, eating, as they went on, the juicy melons, as they called the Cucumis, till the sight of a smoke in the direction of the pools induced them reluctantly to forsake even this small supply of water, and to diverge directly to the south, till they should have passed the danger of encountering another tribe, who might prove less friendly than their late hosts.

The sudden fall of night compelled them to rest at a spot where no water was to be discovered, and, too late, they regretted that they had not brought a supply from the pools. Reluctantly they made their only meal of the day on bread; fortunately they were able to add melons; still the privation was felt; they were unsatisfied and much depressed, till calmed by the blessed influence of prayer. Then all anxiety was hushed by a sound sleep on the wide, treeless plain.

They had slept some hours, when Arthur was awaked by a startling cry, and, springing up in alarm, he seized his gun, and called hastily to Jack to follow him. The moon was shining brightly, and they were enabled to see some moving objects at no great distance, towards which they quickly directed their steps, and, on drawing near, they heard the voice of O'Brien crying out, "Arthur! Arthur! come and kill these frightful beasts! I shall be worried!"

They now saw the head of O'Brien, who, supported only by his hands, had sunk into a hole or den, and was surrounded by a troop of hideous large animals, with the form of a bear and the nose of a badger. They were actually running over the boy, and apparently very uneasy at his intrusion. Jack's spear soon despatched one of the animals; the rest fled to their dens at the sight of more invaders of their homes; and O'Brien was dragged from the hole he had accidentally taken possession of, and scolded by Arthur for his imprudence. It appeared that he had, while lying awake, seen one of the wombats roaming about in search of food, and while pursuing it with his spear he had fallen into the den, and by his cries raised the whole community of these social and harmless beasts, which, powerful and numerous as they were, had attempted no injury against the rude invader.

The wombat Jack had killed was about the size of a sheep; they divested it of its smooth thick fur skin, which was hung up to dry immediately. In the morning they had an opportunity of examining the curious, clumsy animals, which were still busily feeding. Wilkins declared their flesh to be delicate and excellent food; but, without water, no one felt any appetite for meat.

"Doubtless," said Mr. Mayburn, "this creature is the Phascolomys ursinus, partaking of the form of the bear and the hog; but, like the great majority of Australian animals, marsupial."

"He is an ugly fellow," said Hugh, "with his huge body and short legs; but his skin is capital; we will clean it to make a mattrass for papa, and we must have another skin for Margaret. After all, Jenny, a wombat-steak will be more juicy than this dreadful dry, husky biscuit; and I suppose we must try to eat, or we shall never have strength to get out of this desert."

The steaks were really excellent with sliced melon, if the travellers could have relished food without water; and after breakfast they set out, again eagerly watching for signs of water; but no one feeling sufficient energy to execute another wombat before they departed. They continued to struggle on over a loose sandy soil, covered with a bush resembling the heath, so dear to the northern people of Great Britain; the very sight of which cheered the thirsty wanderers in the dry desert; and they talked of the moors of home till their steps grew lighter. But the toil of dragging the light sledge over or through the bushes became hard labor; and at length Mr. Mayburn, exhausted with thirst, was so overcome that two of the young men had to support him, as they slowly moved on to escape from this desert.

"Keep up your heart, master," said the attached Wilkins; "and Jenny, woman, be getting yer cans ready; we'se have a sup of rain afore long, depend on't. Now some of ye light-heeled young uns, run on, and seek out a shelter for t' master."

The sky was dark, the thunder rumbled at a distance, and the young people looked round in happy anxiety for some shelter; but in vain, – not even a tree was to be seen; and at last they were obliged to content themselves with a little cleared spot, backed by a low brush-covered hill, and surrounded by the tea-shrub mingled with the graceful heath. There they hollowed out a sort of recess in the soft sandy hill-side, before which they hung the skin of the wombat, that Mr. Mayburn and Margaret, at least, might be sheltered. By this time the rain had begun to fall in torrents, and every vessel they had brought away was placed to catch the precious drops.

Then the boys made forms as they called them, beneath the brushwood, into which they crept, to escape, as far as they could, the deluge of rain. But ever and anon a hand was stretched out to obtain a draught of the long-pined-for water; and though they declared it tasted warm, they felt so refreshed that there succeeded a great appetite for wombat-steak, which could not, however, be gratified; for to attempt to make a fire was hopeless.

"What charming dormitories we have!" said Gerald. "The rain dripping through these narrow-leaved shrubs and dabbling your face all night long, will be so comfortable. I don't think a wombat's den would be such a bad thing to-night. Ruth, how do the cocks and hens like this weather?"

"I keeps 'em covered an' under my cloak, Master Gerald," answered she; "but, bonnie things, they tremmel and cower all of a heap. You see, birds and such-like, are all for sunshine."

"And sunshine enough they've had here, Ruth," replied he; "and now we must not be unthankful for the rain we wanted much. Pleasant dreams to you all, my friends!" called out the lively boy, as he dived under the bushes, to scratch himself out a den, as he said. But the rain and the thunder prevented much sleep, and at the first gleam of light, the boys issued from their comfortless dens, with some dry twigs which had formed their beds, and with which they proposed, though the rain was still falling, to make a fire to cook some meat. But before they could accomplish their plan, they were disturbed by a trampling among the bushes, and the sound of human voices.

"The savages! the savages!" whispered Hugh; "I think I can distinguish the voice of Black Peter."

"Scatter the twigs," said Arthur; "put the water-vessels underneath the bushes. Draw these skins into your form, Margaret, and crouch out of sight. Now! now! to cover, all of you!"

They had scarcely given the place the appearance of being unvisited, and drawn themselves securely under the scrub, when the voices were so close to them that they could distinguish, though they could not understand the words. Only Black Peter, who pronounced the language slowly, was sufficiently distinct for them to make out the words signifying "mountains" and "plenty of water."

The party passed close to them, but without pausing, and when the steps and voices sounded sufficiently distant, Arthur looked out, and saw the same men who had besieged them in their mountain retreat, still headed by Peter. All the men were outrageously painted white and red, though they were partially covered with opossum cloaks to shelter them from the rain. Arthur observed that they moved on towards the east, where, at a great distance, appeared a dark line, which he concluded was the mountain-range Peter had alluded to.

One after another the alarmed family appeared from their hiding-places; Baldabella was eagerly questioned about their discourse, and she replied that she had heard Peter say, "White men go to mountain, find much water. Peter go to mountain, find plenty water, plenty white fellow, plenty gun, knife. Kill white man, kill bad fellow Wilkins."

"She's reet! I'll uphold her," said Wilkins. "Depend on 't Peter's heared of some bush-rangers out ower yonder, and he'll want to join 'em. We'se have to keep clear of their track, master. Just look round ye, what chance should we have again a lot of them desp'rate rogues, wi' guns in their hands, and blood in their hearts; and when they're fairly set on, them blacks is as bad; they reckon nought of a dozen lives to get haud on a gun."

"Whither shall we flee?" cried Mr. Mayburn, in a distracted tone. "Speak, Margaret – Arthur – and you, my good man, who, steeped in evil, had yet strength given you to turn away from it, guide and save us! Alas! it is but too true; man, civilized or savage, preserves his innate and original depravity. 'There is none good; no, not one.' Men have spoken of the simple and pure life of the desert; we see what it is in truth."

"Yes, dear papa," said Margaret, "we must bid adieu to the fallacious dreams of poetry, the romance of that golden age when men were virtuous because they were ignorant. These are men to whom the temptations of the world are unknown; men who have never looked on the brilliant decorations of vice; yet they are harsh, cruel, selfish, and faithless. Is this truly human nature, papa?"

"I fear, my child, it is too truly human nature," answered Mr. Mayburn, – "fallen, degraded, unredeemed human nature. Well does a great and wise writer on the natural depravity of man picture the ignorant savage as 'a compound of pride and indolence, and selfishness, and cunning and cruelty; full of a revenge which nothing could satiate, of a ferocity which nothing could soften; strangers to the most amiable sensibilities of nature.' Then what weight of sin must rest on the souls of those who, having been taught the way of truth themselves, take advantage of the frailty of humanity to lead these heathens into the gulf of crime. Woe to those men 'who know the best, and yet the worst pursue.'"

While they watched the gradual disappearance of their enemies, the rain ceased, and Jenny summoned the party to the enjoyment of tea to their dry biscuit, before they resumed their journey, the prospect of which was still unpromising.

"We must now, defying all the threatened deserts, go on towards the south," said Arthur, "and evade, if we possibly can, our implacable and inveterate pursuers. The temptation to cross the eastern mountains is great, but I fear, Wilkins, we should hardly be safe, even in the rear of such dangerous company."

"Nay, nay! Mr. Arthur, keep out of their way," said Wilkins. "Ye heared what Baldabella said about their going to rondessvowse ower yonder wi' them roguish bush-rangers; and I see no sense in running into t' thick on 'em."

"Certainly not, Wilkins," answered Arthur. "Then we will decide on a route due south. So, forward, my brave men, and let us carefully carry away the water we have preserved, for I fear much we have not yet passed the wilderness."

CHAPTER XXIV

The Dry Wilderness. – Despair. – The Coming-down of the Waters. – The Discomfited Savages. – Hunger and Thirst. – The Footsteps in the Mud. – A Pond. – The Talegalla and its Nest. – The Valley of Promise. – The River to the South

It was indeed on a wilderness they now entered, where low entangled brushwood spread as far as the eye could extend, unvaried by the appearance of a single tree rising above it; and as they toiled through or over this perplexing ground, carrying the bark sledge, which it was impossible to draw over the bush, they were often deceived by the sight of a line of tall reeds, the border of the bed of some river, now wholly dry, or merely muddy with the rain of the previous day. They saw no animals, except two or three emus, which swiftly fled from pursuit; and they were too eager to escape from the dry desert to waste time in the chase. For two days, successive morning suns showed them the same trackless and unwatered heaths spread before them; then the water was exhausted, and they turned away with loathing from the dry bread and potatoes.

Slowly and languidly they dragged on their weary way, still watching and hoping in vain. Another day of suffering dawned on them; and now the scorching air, the dry food, the fatigue, and the consuming thirst overcame them one after another, and before evening Mr. Mayburn said, "Let us lie down here, Arthur. God has chosen, in His wisdom, to put this termination to our efforts. Nature is exhausted; let us lie down and prepare for death."

"Not so, my dear father," answered Arthur. "God wills that we should be active, and strive to surmount difficulties, or He would not have bestowed on us the bounteous gifts of thought and action. Margaret, I know your faith and resolution; encourage my father."

"You look to me in vain, my dear brother," said Margaret. "I am unable to think or to move. Save our beloved father, and leave me beneath these bushes to die. I feel that death must be near at hand."

"I beseech you to rally your energy, my darling Meggie," said her brother, in a broken voice. "Surely, after the rain that fell yesterday, we must soon find some pools. We must not be so weak as to remain here, with our pursuers so near to us, and drought and death around us. Let us try at least to cross this muddy and deceitful gorge, and be thankful; for remember, my dear sister, if this had been now a foaming river, we should have been unable to ford it, and must have been lost in this desert."

Margaret was too weak to reply, and Arthur, lifting her with difficulty in his enfeebled arms, descended the banks, and crossed the wide bed of a river which was scarcely moist enough to leave the traces of his footsteps. Wilkins and Jack supported Mr. Mayburn across, and the rest languidly followed. They crawled slowly up the rocky banks of the opposite side, which were covered with thick scrubby bushes; and then beneath a spreading acacia, they sat down to rest a few moments, and endeavored to nerve themselves to endurance and exertion.

"Surely, Wilkins," said Arthur, "that lofty line of mountains which we can still see at the east, though so distant, ought to supply springs and streams to these plains, and there must be water at no great distance. You and I are pretty stout; can we not leave these feeble folks here, and go on to search for some relief for them?"

"Look yonder, Mr. Arthur," answered Wilkins, "just atween us and them mountains, and say if we ought to leave 'em behind us."

Arthur beheld with dismay, at about a mile's distance, a dark mass moving over the bare plain. He saw that the savages were returning, and even his firm heart failed, for here was no shelter – no hope of escape. He remained struck dumb for a minute; then he whispered to his brothers the dreadful fact, adding, "They must be nearer than they appear to be, for I surely hear them as well as see them. Certainly, some sound breaks the stillness of this solitary desert. It must be the murmur of many voices."

"It seems to me like men felling wood," said Jack.

"It is more like the blessed sound of water," said O'Brien, springing up.

Still the mass of figures, though now more defined and plainly recognized to be the savage host, approached slowly; and they could not produce the strange rumor, which momentarily grew louder, crackling, tearing, roaring, like the mighty elephant, forcing its way through the thicket. All the party now heard in trembling fear this unaccountable phenomenon, and the weeping women knelt down to pray for aid amidst accumulated distresses.

"Father," murmured the almost unconscious Margaret, "I smell water. Oh, give me some, or I die."

"It is water!" shouted O'Brien "I said it was water. It is the river coming down. Come on, Hugh, let us meet it;" and he leaped down into the bed of the stream.

"Stop the lad!" cried Wilkins, following and dragging him up the bank again. "We'se ha'e water enough, and more nor we want soon. Look ye! look ye!" and they saw a slender thread of water come crawling over the bed like a silver snake.

"Sharp! sharp! hand us a bucket!" called Wilkins; and, provided with a bucket, he descended and quickly procured a small quantity of water to relieve the worst sufferers; but before a second supply could be obtained, he was compelled to retreat in haste, and an amazing spectacle burst on the eyes of the beholders. A mighty tower of water was seen to approach, rushing, pouring, foaming; casting up from it trunks of trees, drenched garlands of creeping plants, and showers of pebbles. In an incredibly short space of time the resistless torrent had filled the deep gorge, and was splashing over the rocky banks.

Gradually the torrent subsided into a smooth, deep, and flowing river, from which the pining sufferers obtained the refreshment they had so long sought, and then, with bended knees, offered up a thanksgiving to that Great Power who had by this providential event rescued them from a painful death, and interposed an insurmountable barrier between them and their vindictive enemies, who, having now approached near enough to be aware of this unexpected obstacle, saw, with evident wrath, their prize snatched from their grasp. At the command of their implacable and well-known chief, Peter, some of the most skilful threw their spears; but the river was not less than fifty yards across, besides which, the strong east wind drifted away the weapons from their intended aim; and the invigorated and uninjured family lost no time in leaving the dangerous spot, and were soon beyond sight of the stubborn natives, and the malicious bush-ranger.

"It is plain they have no means of crossing the river," said Arthur; "but, Wilkins, what can have induced them to return from the mountains?"

"I reckon they'll have somehow missed their comrades as was to be," answered Wilkins. "Maybe they'd an inkling as how we were behind 'em and not afore 'em; and they'd niver reckon on t' water coming down; and not a soul among 'em can swim, barring Peter, and he knew better nor trust hisself among us alone. We've stopped 'em a bit now, master."

"Not we, Wilkins, but God," said Mr. Mayburn. "It was 'the Lord that brought again the waters upon them,' and saved us. To His name be the glory."

"We have still before us a long struggle through these sterile wilds," said Arthur; "but this deliverance must give us renewed courage for labor and privation. Now we may afford to eat our supper, and take our rest without fear."

The strongest of the party, before they left the river, had filled all the vessels with water, and brought them off, and very soon, almost within hearing of the noisy savages, they made a fire, and enjoyed again the luxury of tea to their potatoes, before weary nature sought repose. But as soon as it was light, they set out, after again having tea to fit them for another day of toil. The march was resumed with renewed health and spirits, but still the monotony of the matted rough desert, which rarely afforded a clear spot for them to draw the sledge, fatigued and depressed them before the day was over. And when they rested for the evening, and Jenny produced the scanty remainder of potatoes, and the still smaller portion of grain, dismay sat on every countenance, and Jack was the first to demand that Ruth's basket might be lightened, and the contents given up to satisfy the hungry and healthy appetite of the public in general.

It was found on inspection that besides three full-grown fowls, the girl was still carrying six good-sized chickens, the rest of the brood having perished, from accident or scanty food. Immediately, as a matter of expediency to save the oats, to lessen the burden they had to carry, and to feed the hungry, sentence was passed that two chickens should be executed each day, and it was hoped, before all were eaten, some region of more plenty might be attained.

With great reluctance, and floods of tears, Ruth relinquished her pets, and at the end of the three days, only the old fowls were left, and every potato, grain, and drop of water was gone. Then, indeed, they realized the misery of famine; strength and cheerfulness left them, and they tottered reluctantly forward, slowly and in mournful silence.

Sometimes an emu was seen at a distance, but none had energy or strength to chase it, and Arthur, whose mental vigor supported him, when all were sinking round him, tried in vain to rouse them from their apathy.

"Let us struggle on a little longer," he said. "Once more I see a tall line of reeds, and by God's mercy, we may not be disappointed this time. Come, Jack, you and I will make a forced march in search of succor for those who are weaker than ourselves; and if we succeed we will return to refresh and bring them forward."

With buckets slung over their shoulders, and leaning on their long spears, the two young men strained every nerve to reach the reeds like those which had so frequently disappointed them, and, cutting or forcing their way through the tall canes, they came again on the bed of a river – moist and muddy, indeed, but not a pool of water was to be seen.

"Let us ascend higher; we may find a little," said Arthur. "But, surely, Jack, here are footsteps on the soft earth. Some one has been here before us."

"Sure enough there has," replied Jack. "Men have been here; booted chaps, too; none of the savages; anyhow, not them that we reckon savages, but like enough, they'll be little better. Ay, their track runs upward; what say ye, Mr. Arthur, are we to follow it?"