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The Adventures of Louis de Rougemont

by Louis de Rougemont · English · Gutenberg #1194 · 589,153 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: The Adventures of Louis de Rougemont

Author: Louis de Rougemont


        
Release date: February 1, 1998 [eBook #1194]
                Most recently updated: April 17, 2007

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1194

Credits: Transcribed from the 1899 George Newnes edition by David Price


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF LOUIS DE ROUGEMONT ***





Transcribed from the 1899 George Newnes edition by David Price, email
ccx074@pglaf.org





THE ADVENTURES OF
LOUIS DE ROUGEMONT
As Told by Himself


With Forty-six Illustrations

London
George Newnes, Limited
Southampton Street, Strand
1899

[_All rights reserved_]

Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO.
At the Ballantyne Press




DEDICATION


_To my Devoted Wife_,

YAMBA,

_The Noblest Work of the Creator_,
A GOOD WOMAN,

_And to her People_, _my True and Streadfast Friends_,
_who never wavered in their confidence or_
_attachment_, _and to whom I owe the_
_Preservation of my Life_,

THIS WORK

_Is gratefully Dedicated_




CHAPTER I


Early life--Leaving home--I meet Jensen--I go pearling--Daily
routine--Submarine beauties--A fortune in pearls--Seized by an
octopus--Shark-killing extraordinary--Trading with the natives--Impending
trouble--Preparing for the attack--Baffling the savages.

I was born in or near Paris, in the year 1844.  My father was a fairly
prosperous man of business--a general merchant, to be precise, who dealt
largely in shoes; but when I was about ten years old, my mother, in
consequence of certain domestic differences, took me to live with her at
Montreux, and other places in Switzerland, where I was educated.  I
visited many of the towns near Montreux, including Lausanne, Geneva,
Neufchatel, &c.  The whole of the time I was at school I mixed
extensively with English boys on account of their language and sports,
both of which attracted me.

Boys soon begin to display their bent, and mine, curiously enough, was in
the direction of geology.  I was constantly bringing home pieces of stone
and minerals picked up in the streets and on the mountains, and asking
questions about their origin and history.  My dear mother encouraged me
in this, and later on I frequently went to Freiburg, in the Black Forest,
to get a practical insight into smelting.  When I was about nineteen,
however, a message arrived from my father, directing me to return to
France and report myself as a conscript; but against this my mother
resolutely set her face.  I fancy my father wanted me to take up the army
as a career, but in deference to my mother's wishes I remained with her
in Switzerland for some time longer.  She and I had many talks about my
future, and she at length advised me to take a trip to the East, and see
what the experience of travel would do for me.  Neither of us had any
definite project in view, but at length my mother gave me about 7000
francs and I set out for Cairo, intending eventually to visit and make
myself acquainted with the French possessions in the Far East.  My idea
was to visit such places as Tonkin, Cochin-China, Madagascar, Mauritius,
Seychelles, &c.  My mother was of the opinion that if I saw a bit of the
world in this way I would be more inclined to settle down at home with
her at the end of my wanderings.  The primary cause of my going away was
a little love episode.  Whilst at Montreux I fell in love with a charming
young lady at a boarding-school near my home.  She was the daughter of
some high personage in the court of Russia--but exactly what position he
held I cannot say.  My mother was quite charmed with the young lady and
viewed our attachment with delight.  But when my father heard of the
matter he raised a decided objection to it, and ordered me to return to
France and join the army.  He had, as I have previously intimated, made
his own plans for my future, even to the point of deciding upon a future
wife for me, as is customary in France; but I resolutely declined to
conform to his wishes in this respect, and my mother quite sided with me.
I never quite knew how he got to hear of my love affair, but I conclude
that my mother must have mentioned it to him.  I only stayed a few days
in the wonderful metropolis of Egypt; its noises, its cosmopolitanism,
its crowds--these, and many other considerations, drove me from the city,
and I set out for Singapore.

I had not been many days in that place when, chancing to make inquiries
at a store kept by a Mr. Shakespeare, I was casually introduced to a
Dutch pearl-fisher named Peter Jensen.  Although I describe him as a
Dutch pearler I am somewhat uncertain as to his exact nationality.  I am
under the impression that he told me he came from Copenhagen, but in
those days the phrase "Dutchman" had a very wide application.  If a man
hailed from Holland, Sweden, Norway, or any neighbouring country, he was
always referred to as a Dutchman.  This was in 1863.  We grew quite
friendly, Jensen and I, and he told me he had a small forty-ton schooner
at Batavia, in which sturdy little craft he used to go on his pearling
expeditions.

"I am now," he said, "about to organise a trip to some untouched pearling
grounds off the south of New Guinea, but have not sufficient capital to
defray the preliminary expenses."

This hint I took, and I offered to join him.  He once agreed, and we
commenced our preparations without delay--in Batavia.  Now when a pearler
engaged a crew of native divers there in those days, he had to deposit
beforehand with the Dutch Government a certain sum for each man entering
his service, this money being a guarantee that the man would get his
wages.  Well, I placed all the money that I had with me at Captain
Jensen's disposal, provided he gave me a share in the venture we were
about to undertake.  "We will not," he said to me in Singapore, "draw up
an agreement here, but will do so at Batavia," and forthwith we set sail
for that place.  Before leaving Singapore, however, Jensen bought some
nautical instruments he could not get at Batavia--including compasses,
quadrant, chronometer, &c.  Strange to say, he did not tell me that his
ship was named the _Veielland_ until we had arrived at Batavia.  Here the
contract was duly drawn up, and the vessel fitted out for the voyage.  I
fancy this was the first time Jensen had embarked on a pearling
expedition on a craft of the size of the _Veielland_, his previous trips
having been undertaken on much smaller vessels, say of about ten tons.
Although the fitting out of the ship was left entirely in his hands, I
insisted upon having a supply of certain stores for myself put
aboard--things he would never have thought about.  These included such
luxuries as tinned and compressed vegetables, condensed milk, &c.  Jensen
did not even think of ship's biscuits until I called his attention to the
oversight.  He demurred at first about buying them, but I told him I
would not go until we had the biscuits aboard.  Jensen was a very bluff,
enigmatic sort of fellow, as I afterwards found out.  He was of a sullen,
morose nature, and I could never get much out of him about his past.  He
would not speak about himself under any circumstances, and at no time of
our acquaintance was he any sort of a sociable companion.  He was very
hard upon the sailors under him, and was much addicted to the use of
strong language.  I admit that I was an absolute "muff" in those days,
and Jensen was quick to grasp the fact.  He was very fond of schnapps,
whilst I hated the smell of the stuff.  Moreover, he was a great smoker,
and here again our tastes differed.

Our preparations in Batavia complete, we next went over to the islands of
the Dutch Archipelago, and engaged forty experienced Malay divers to
accompany us.  Jensen was very particular in selecting the men, each
being required to demonstrate his capabilities before us.  The way he
tested them prior to actually engaging them was to make each dive after a
bright tin object thrown into so many fathoms of water.  Altogether he
spent several weeks choosing his crew.  He had engaged a couple of Malays
at Batavia to help in the work of navigating the ship, but besides being
sailors these men were also good divers.  The majority of the other
Malays were only useful as divers, and took no part in the working of the
ship.  A native _serang_, or "boss," was appointed as chief, or foreman,
over the Malays, and he was permitted to take with him his wife and her
maid.  This "serang" had to be a first-class diver himself, and had also
to be acquainted with the manoeuvring of a small boat.  He was also
required to have a smattering of navigation generally.  Above all, he had
to be able to assert authority over the other divers; and in all these
respects our serang was thoroughly proficient.

I may here explain that shortly after leaving Batavia the captain had the
ship repainted a greyish-white colour all over.  I never troubled to look
for her name, but one day I saw Jensen painting the word _Veielland_ on
her.  There was a totally different name on the lifeboat, but I cannot
remember it.  What Jensen's motive was in sailing the ship under another
name I never understood; certainly it was a very suspicious circumstance.
Perhaps the ship as originally named had a bad name, and if such were the
case--mind you, I don't say that it had--the Malays could never have been
induced to go aboard.  Once out at sea, however, they would be absolutely
at the mercy of the captain, and he could treat them just as he pleased.
The first thing they did before coming aboard was to look at the name for
themselves.  No doubt they knew the reputation of every pearler.  Jensen
did on one occasion exercise his authority to the extent of transferring
some of his own Malay divers to another ship when we were out at sea.

At last everything was ready, and when we sailed for the pearling
grounds, our crew numbered forty-four all told, not including a fine dog
that belonged to the captain.  This dog, which played so important--nay,
so vitally important--a part in my strange afterlife, was given to Jensen
at Batavia by a Captain Cadell, a well-known Australian seaman, who had
gained some notoriety by navigating the Murray River for the first time.
Cadell, who was a great friend of Jensen, was himself a pearler.  But he
met with a sad end.  He was in a pearling expedition in the neighbourhood
of Thursday Island, and among his crew were some of the very Australian
Blacks who in after years proved so friendly to me.  Cadell treated these
men very badly, keeping them at work long after the time for their return
home had expired, and one day they mutinied and murdered him whilst he
was asleep.  The black fellow who called himself "Captain Jack Davies,"
of whom I shall have more to say hereafter, was amongst the crew at the
time.  I obtained this information in Sydney from Captain Tucker, a well-
known Torres Straits pearler.  Bruno, Jensen's dog, was something of a
greyhound in build, only that his hind-quarters were heavier.

As you may suppose, my knowledge of seamanship was very limited indeed,
but Jensen interested himself in me, so that I soon began to pick up a
good deal of useful knowledge.  He taught me how to take the sun, I using
his old instruments; but I could never grasp the taking of the lunars.  On
our voyage out I had no duties to perform on board, but I found much to
interest myself in the beautiful tropical islands among which we threaded
our way; and I took quite a childish delight in everything I saw.  It was
really a grand time for me.  I constantly wrote home to my mother, the
last letter I forwarded to her being from Koopang.  Occasionally we
landed on one of the islands to buy fresh provisions, in the shape of
fowls, pigs, fruit, &c.  We then set sail for the coast of New Guinea.
The voyage thence was accomplished without the slightest hitch, the
divers spending most of their time in singing and playing like little
children,--all in the best of good spirits.  Their favourite form of
amusement was to sit round a large fire, either telling stories of the
girls they had left behind, or singing love melodies.  When the weather
was at all cold, they would make a fire in a rather shallow tub, the
sides of which were lined with a layer of sand.  They were a wonderfully
light-hearted lot of fellows, and I greatly enjoyed listening to their
chants and yarns.  I was more often with them than in Jensen's company,
and it did not take me long to pick up bits of their language.

The _Veielland_ only drew between seven feet and eight feet of water, so
that we were able to venture very close in-shore whenever it was
necessary.  At length, about a month after starting, we reached a likely
spot where the captain thought that the precious shells might be found;
here we anchored, and the divers quickly got to work.  I ought to have
mentioned that we carried a large whale-boat, and about half-a-dozen
frail little "shell" boats for the use of the divers.

The comings and goings of the various pearling expeditions were of course
regulated by the weather and the state of the tide.  The captain himself
went out first of all in the whale-boat, and from it prospected for
shells at the bottom of the crystal sea.  The water was marvellously
transparent, and leaning over the side of the boat, Jensen peered eagerly
into his sea-telescope, which is simply a metal cylinder with a lens of
ordinary glass at the bottom.  Some of the sea-telescopes would even be
without this lens, being simply a metal cylinder open at both ends.
Although they did not bring the objects looked at nearer the vision, yet
they enabled the prospector to see below the ruffled surface of the
water.

The big whale-boat was followed at a respectful distance by the flotilla
of smaller boats, each containing from four to six Malays.  When Jensen
discerned a likely spot through his peculiar telescope, he gave the
signal for a halt, and before you could realise what was going to happen,
the native divers had tumbled out of their boats, and were _swimming_ in
a weird way down to the bottom of the translucent sea.  As a rule, one
man was left in each little boat to follow the movements of the divers as
they returned to the surface.  Not only did these divers wear no
mechanical "dress," but they used no stimulants or palliatives of any
kind to aid them in their work.  All they carried was a small
sheath-knife hung from the waist by a piece of string.  The water for the
most part was only two or three fathoms deep, but sometimes it would be
as much as eight fathoms,--which was the greatest depth to which the men
cared to go.  When he reached the bottom, the diver would grope about for
shells, and generally return to the surface with a couple, held in his
left hand and hugged against his breast; the right hand was kept free and
directed his movements in swimming.  Each diver seldom remained under
water more than one minute, and on coming to the surface he would take a
"spell" of perhaps a quarter of an hour before going down again.

As fast as each man brought his shells into the boat, they were put into
a separate little pile, which was respected absolutely, and always
recognised as belonging to its owner.  The bed of the sea at these
pearling grounds is usually coral, with innumerable holes of different
depths and sizes dotted all over it.  It was in these recesses that the
best shells were mostly found.

The marine vegetation down in these seas was always of extreme beauty;
there were stately "trees" that waved backwards and forwards, as though
under the influence of a gentle breeze; there were high, luxuriant
grasses, and innumerable plants of endless variety and colour.  The coral
rocks, too, were of gorgeous hues--yellow, blue, red, and white; but a
peculiar thing was that the moment you brought a piece of this rock up to
the surface, the lovely colour it possessed whilst in the water gradually
faded away.  Some of the coral I saw had curious little shoots hanging
from its numerous projections bearing a striking resemblance to
bluebells.

The illusion of a submarine forest was further heightened by the droves
of gaily-coloured fish that flitted in and out among the branches.
Perhaps the most beautiful of all were the little dolphins.  The diving
expeditions went away from the ship with the ebb tide, and returned with
the flow.  Sometimes their search would take them long distances away,
and on one occasion they were working fully ten miles from the
_Veielland_.  When the water suddenly became rough, rendering the divers
unable to paddle their own little skiffs back to the ship, they made
their way to the whale-boat, clambered aboard, and returned in her,
trailing their own craft at the stern.  The boats, however, were not
always brought back to the ship at night; as a rule they were buoyed near
the pearling beds, whilst the divers returned to their quarters aboard.  I
might here explain that the sleeping accommodation for the Malays was
both ample and comfortable.  A large room in which the casks of fresh
water were stored was set apart for their use.  These casks were turned
on end and a deck of planks placed over them, on which the Malays laid
their sleeping mats and little wooden pillows.  They ranged themselves
twenty a side.  But you may be asking, what was _I_ doing during these
pearling expeditions?  Well, I was intrusted with the important duty of
receiving the shells from the men, and crediting each with the number he
delivered.  Thus I was nearly always left alone on the ship--save for the
dog; because even the two Malay women frequently went out diving, and
they were credited for work done precisely as the men were.

If I had no shells to open whilst the divers were absent, I filled in my
time by sewing sails, which Jensen himself would cut to the required
shape--and reading, &c.  My library consisted of only five books--a copy
of the Bible, and a four-volume medical work in English by Bell, which I
had purchased at Singapore.  I made quite a study of the contents of this
work, and acquired much valuable information, which I was able to put to
good use in after years, more particularly during my sojourn amongst the
Blacks.  Bruno generally sat by my side on deck when I was alone,--in
fact he was nearly always with me.  He took to me more than to Jensen
from the first.  Jensen rarely tried to bully me, though of course I was
now very much in his power, as he emphatically illustrated one day.  A
Malay diver had very much annoyed him, and in his fury he picked up a
heavy broom with a stick fully four feet long, and felled the poor fellow
senseless to the deck with it.  I was shocked at such awful brutality,
and ventured to protest against it.  "Captain," I said, "don't do
anything like that again whilst I am aboard."  Turning round in a great
passion he ordered me to keep my own counsel, otherwise he would have me
put in irons.  But for all that Jensen never again let his temper get the
better of him to such an extent in my presence.  He was always very gruff
in his manner, and looked upon me as the "darndest fool he had ever met."

These divers, by the way, never seemed to trouble about the value of the
treasure they were constantly bringing to the surface.  They thought
themselves well paid if they were given plenty of rice and fish, turtles'
eggs and fowls, in addition to such luxuries as spices, coffee, and
"Brummagem" jewellery, of a kind which is too well known to need
description.  At the same time it must be admitted that in addition to
their wages, which were paid them when they were discharged from the
ship, the Malays had practically no opportunity of being dishonest, even
though they might have been inclined that way.  They never came into
actual contact with the pearls; they were rewarded according to the
number of shells brought to the surface, and not the value of the pearls
they might contain.  All the shells were opened by me.  A healthy spirit
of rivalry was maintained among the divers, and the man who had the best
record of shells each week was rewarded with an extra allowance of rum or
tobacco; a choice of some article of jewellery, or anything else he
fancied from among the stock we had on board.  A bottle of chutney or
pickles was considered a specially valuable delicacy.  No money was ever
given to the divers as wages whilst at sea, remuneration in kind being
always given instead.  Each expedition would be absent perhaps six hours,
and on its return each diver generally had between twenty and forty
shells to hand over to me.  These I arranged in long rows on the deck,
and allowed them to remain there all night.  Next day I cleaned them by
scraping off the coral from the shells, and then opened them with an
ordinary dinner-knife.  Of course, every oyster did not produce a pearl;
in fact, I have opened as many as a hundred consecutive shells without
finding a single pearl.  The gems are hidden away in the fleshy part of
the oyster, and have to be removed by pressure of the thumb.  The empty
shells are then thrown in a heap on one side, and afterwards carefully
stowed away in the hold, as they constitute a valuable cargo in
themselves, being worth--at that time, at any rate (1864)--from 200 to
250 pounds, and even 350 pounds a ton.  All the pearls I found I placed
in a walnut jewel-case, measuring about fourteen inches by eight inches
by six inches.  The value of the treasure increased day by day, until it
amounted to many thousands of pounds; but of this more hereafter.  I did
not know much of the value of pearls then--how could I, having had no
previous experience?

Captain Jensen, however, assured me at the end of the season that we had
something like 50,000 pounds worth of pearls aboard, to say nothing about
the value of the shells, of which we had about thirty tons.  It must be
clearly understood that this is Captain Jensen's estimate--I am utterly
unable to give one.  The oysters themselves we found very poor eating,
and no one on board cared about them.  Some of the shells contained one
pearl, others two, three, and even four.  One magnificent specimen I came
across produced no fewer than a dozen fine pearls, but that of course was
very exceptional.  The largest gem I ever found was shaped just like a
big cube, more than an inch square.  It was, however, comparatively
worthless.  Actually the finest specimen that passed through my hands was
about the size of a pigeon's egg, and of exquisite colour and shape.  Some
of the pearls were of a beautiful rose colour, others yellow; but most
were pure white.

The greatest enemy the divers had to fear in those waters was the dreaded
octopus, whose presence occasioned far greater panic than the appearance
of a mere shark.

These loathsome monsters--call them squids, or devil-fish, or what you
will--would sometimes come and throw their horrible tentacles over the
side of the frail craft from which the divers were working, and actually
fasten on to the men themselves, dragging them out into the water.  At
other times octopuses have been known to attack the divers down below,
and hold them relentlessly under water until life was extinct.  One of
our own men had a terribly narrow escape from one of these fearful
creatures.  I must explain, however, that occasionally when the divers
returned from pearl-fishing, they used to rope all their little skiffs
together and let them lie astern of the schooner.  Well, one night the
wind rose and rain fell heavily, with the result that next morning all
the little boats were found more or less water-logged.  Some of the
Malays were told off to go and bale them out.  Whilst they were at work
one of the men saw a mysterious-looking black object in the sea, which so
attracted his curiosity that he dived overboard to find out what it was.
He had barely reached the water, however, when an immense octopus rose
into view, and at once made for the terrified man, who instantly saw his
danger, and with great presence of mind promptly turned and scrambled
back into the boat.

The terrible creature was after him, however, and to the horror of the
onlookers it extended its great flexible tentacles, enveloped the entire
boat, man and all, and then dragged the whole down into the clear depths.
The diver's horrified comrades rushed to his assistance, and an attempt
was made to kill the octopus with a harpoon, but without success.  Several
of his more resourceful companions then dived into the water with a big
net made of stout twine, which they took right underneath the octopus,
entangling the creature and its still living prey.  The next step was to
drag up both man and octopus into the whale-boat, and this done, the
unfortunate Malay was at length seized by his legs, and dragged by sheer
force out of the frightful embrace, more dead than alive, as you may
suppose.  However, we soon revived him by putting him into a very hot
bath, the water being at such a temperature as actually to blister his
skin.  It is most remarkable that the man was not altogether drowned, as
he had been held under water by the tentacles of the octopus for rather
more than two minutes.  But, like all the Malays of our party, this man
carried a knife, which he used to very good purpose on the monster's body
when first it dragged him under the water.  These repeated stabs caused
the creature to keep rolling about on the surface, and the unhappy man
was in this way enabled to get an occasional breath of air; otherwise he
must infallibly have been drowned.  It was a horrible-looking creature,
with a slimy body, and a hideous cavity of a mouth.  It is the tentacles
of the creature that are so dreaded, on account of the immense sucking
power which they possess.

After this incident the divers always took a tomahawk with them on their
expeditions, in order to lop off the tentacles of any octopus that might
try to attack them in the boats.  And, by the way, we saw many
extraordinary creatures during our cruise.  I myself had a serious fright
one day whilst indulging in a swim.

We had anchored in about five fathoms, and as I was proceeding leisurely
away from the vessel at a slow breast stroke, a monstrous fish, fully
twenty feet long, with an enormous hairy head and fierce, fantastic
moustaches, suddenly reared up out of the water, high into the air.  I
must say that the sight absolutely unmanned me for the moment, and when
this extraordinary creature opened his enormous mouth in my direction, I
gave myself up for lost.  It did not molest me, however, and I got back
to the ship safely, but it was some little time before I recovered from
the terrible fright.

Occasionally too we were troubled with sharks, but the Malays did not
appear to be very much afraid of them.  Their great dread was the ground
shark, which lay motionless at the bottom of the sea, and gave no
indication of his presence.  The result was that occasionally the divers
would sink down to their work quite unknowingly almost by the side of one
of these fearful creatures, and in such cases the diver rarely escaped
without injury of some kind.  With regard to the ordinary shark, however,
our divers actually sought them.  Their method of capturing them was
almost incredible in its simplicity and daring.  Three or four of our
divers would go out in a boat and allow themselves to drift into a big
school of sharks.  Then one man, possessed of more nerve than the rest,
would bend over the side and smartly prick the first one he came across
with a spear taken out for the purpose.  The moment he had succeeded in
this the other occupants of the boat would commence yelling and howling
at the top of their voices, at the same time beating the water with their
paddles, in order to frighten away the sharks.  This invariably
succeeded, but, amazing to relate, the shark that had been pricked always
came back alone a few minutes later to see what it was that had pricked
him.  Care has to be taken not to inflict a very severe wound, because
the moment the other sharks taste the blood of a wounded companion, they
will immediately turn upon him and eat him.  When the inquisitive shark
is seen coming in the direction of the boat, the Malay who has accosted
him in this way quietly jumps overboard, armed only with his small knife
and a short stick of hard wood, exactly like a butcher's skewer, about
five inches in length, and pointed at each end.

The man floats stationary on the surface of the sea, and, naturally, the
shark makes for him.  As the creature rolls over to bite, the wily Malay
glides out of his way with a few deft strokes of the left hand, whilst
with the right he deliberately plants the pointed skewer in an upright
position between the open jaws of the expectant monster.  The result is
simple, but surprising.  The shark is, of course, unable to close its
mouth, and the water just rushes down his throat and chokes him, in
consequence of the gills being forced back so tightly as to prevent the
escape of water through them in the natural way.  Needless to remark, it
requires the greatest possible coolness and nerve to kill a shark in this
way, but the Malays look upon it as a favourite recreation and an
exciting sport.  When the monster is dead its slayer dexterously climbs
on to its back, and then, digging his knife into the shark's head to
serve as a support and means of balance, the conqueror is towed back to
the ship astride his victim by means of a rope hauled by his companions
in their boats.

After many adventures and much luck in the way of getting pearls, our
food and water supply began to give out.  This induced Captain Jensen to
make for the New Guinea main in order to replenish his stores.  We soon
reached a likely spot on the coast, and obtained all that we wanted from
the natives by means of barter.

We gave them tomahawks, knives, hoop-iron, beads, turtles, and bright-
coloured cloth.  Indeed, so friendly did our intercourse become that
parties of our divers often went ashore and joined the Papuans in their
sports and games.  On one of these occasions I came across a curious
animal that bore a striking resemblance to a kangaroo, and yet was not
more than two feet high.  It could climb trees like an opossum and was of
the marsupial family.  The pigeons, too, which were very plentiful in
these parts, were as large as a big fowl.  The headman, or chief, took
quite an interest in me, and never seemed tired of conversing with me,
and pointing out the beauties of the country.  He even showed me a
certain boundary which he advised us not to pass, as the natives beyond
were not under his control.  One day, however, a party of our Malays,
accompanied by myself, imprudently ventured into the forbidden country,
and soon came to a native village, at which we halted.  The people here
were suspicious of us from the first, and when one of my men indiscreetly
offended a native, half the village rose against us, and we had to beat a
retreat.  We were making the best of our way to the coast again, when the
friendly chief came and met us.  He interceded with the indignant
tribesmen on our behalf, and succeeded in pacifying them.  On reaching
the ship, which was anchored within a mile of the coast, Jensen
complained to me ominously that he was getting fairly swamped with
natives, who persisted in coming on board with fruit and vegetables for
barter.  He said he was getting quite nervous about the crowds that
swarmed over the vessel, the natives going up and down as though they had
a perfect right to do so.

"I don't like it," said the captain, "and shall have to put my foot
down."

Next morning, when the usual batch of native canoes came alongside, we
declined to allow a single man on board.  While we were explaining this
to them, our friend the chief himself arrived, accompanied by
half-a-dozen notables, most of whom I knew, together with the now
friendly dignitary whose wrath we had aroused the previous day.  They
were all full of dignity and anticipation.  Captain Jensen, however, was
obdurate, and refused permission to any one to come aboard.  That was
enough for the chiefs.  They went away in high dudgeon, followed
immediately by all the other canoes and their occupants.  When all had
disappeared, a curious stillness came over the ship, the sea, and the
tropical coast, and a strange sense of impending danger seemed to oppress
all of us.  We knew that we had offended the natives, and as we could not
see a single one of them on the beach, it was pretty evident that they
were brooding over their grievance.  We might have weighed anchor and
made for the open sea, only unfortunately there was a perfect calm, and
our sails, which were set in readiness for a hasty departure, hung limp
and motionless.  Suddenly, as we stood looking out anxiously over the
side in the direction of the shore, we were amazed to see at least twenty
fully-equipped war-canoes, each carrying from thirty to forty warriors,
rounding the headland, some little distance away, and making straight for
our ship.  Now my shrewd Dutch partner had anticipated a possible attack,
and had accordingly armed all the Malays with tomahawks, in readiness for
any attempt that might be made to board the schooner.  We had also taken
off the hatches, and made a sort of fortification with them round the
wheel.

Jensen and I armed ourselves with guns, loaded our little cannon, and
prepared to make a desperate fight for our lives against the overwhelming
odds.  In spite of the danger of our position, I could not help being
struck with the magnificence of the spectacle presented by the great
fleet of boats now fast advancing towards us.  The warriors had all
assumed their fighting decorations, with white stripes painted round
their dusky bodies to strike terror into the beholder.  Their head-dress
consisted of many-coloured feathers projecting from the hair, which they
had matted and caused to stand bolt upright from the head.  Each boat had
a prow about three feet high, surmounted by a grotesquely carved figure-
head.  The war-canoes were propelled by twelve men, paddling on either
side.  When the first came within hailing distance I called out and made
signs that they were not to advance unless their intentions were
peaceful.  By way of reply, they merely brandished their bows and arrows
at us.  There was no mistaking their mission.

It was now quite evident that we should have to make a fight for it, and
the natives were coming to the attack in such numbers as easily to
overwhelm us if they once got on board.  Our position was rendered still
more awkward by the fact that all round the ship ropes were hanging down
to the water, up which our divers used to climb on their return from the
day's pearling.  These ropes were attached to a sort of hawser running
round the outside bulwarks of the ship.  We had not even time to haul
these up, and the enemy would certainly have found them very useful for
boarding purposes had they been allowed to get near enough.  It was
therefore very necessary that some decisive step should be taken at once.
While we were debating what was best to be done, we were suddenly greeted
by a shower of arrows from the leading war-canoe.  Without waiting any
longer I fired at the leader, who was standing in the prow, and bowled
him over.  The bullet went right through his body, and then bored a hole
low down in the side of the canoe.  The amazement of the warriors on
hearing the report and seeing the mysterious damage done is quite beyond
description; and before they could recover from their astonishment,
Jensen sent a charge of grape-shot right into their midst, which
shattered several of the canoes and caused a general halt in the advance.

Again I made signs to them not to come nearer, and they seemed undecided
what to do.  Jabbering consultations were held, but while they were thus
hesitating ten more canoes swung round the headland, and their appearance
seemed to give the advance-guard fresh courage.

Once more they made for our ship, but I was ready for them with the
little cannon we had on board; it had been reloaded with grape after the
first discharge.  With a roar the gun belched forth a second deadly hail
against the advancing savages, and the effect was to demoralise them
completely.  One of the canoes was shattered to pieces, and nearly all
the men in it more or less seriously wounded; whilst the occupants of
several other canoes received injuries.

Quite a panic now ensued, and the fleet of canoes got inextricably mixed.
Several showers of arrows, however, descended on our deck, and some of
them penetrated the sails, but no one was injured.  The natives were too
much afraid to advance any farther, and as a wind had now sprung up we
deemed it time to make a dash for liberty.  We therefore quietly slipped
our anchor and, heading the ship for the open sea, glided swiftly past
the enemy's fleet, whose gaily decked, though sorely bewildered, warriors
greeted us with a Parthian flight of arrows as we raced by.  In another
half-hour we were well out to sea, and able to breathe freely once more.




CHAPTER II


The three black pearls--The fatal morning--Jensen and his flotilla drift
away--Alone on the ship--"Oil on the troubled waters"--A substitute for a
rudder--Smoke signals--The whirlpool--The savages attack--I escape from
the blacks--A strange monster--The _Veielland_ strikes a reef--Stone deaf
through the big wave--I leap into the sea--How Bruno helped me ashore--The
dreary island--My raft--A horrible discovery.

This adventure made our Malay crew very anxious to leave these regions.
They had not forgotten the octopus incident either, and they now
appointed their serang to wait upon the captain--a kind of "one-man"
deputation--to persuade him, if possible, to sail for fresh
fishing-grounds.  At first Jensen tried to persuade them to remain in the
same latitudes, which is not to be wondered at, seeing the harvest he had
secured; but they would not listen to this, and at last he was compelled
to direct his ship towards some other quarter.  Where he took us to I
cannot say, but in the course of another week we dropped anchor in some
practically unexplored pearling grounds, and got to work once more.  Our
luck was still with us, and we continued increasing every day the value
of our already substantial treasure.  In these new grounds we found a
particularly small shell very rich in pearls, which required no diving
for at all.  They were secured by means of a trawl or scoop dragged from
the stern of the lifeboat; and when the tide was low the men jumped into
the shallow water and picked them up at their ease.

One morning, as I was opening the shells as usual, out from one dropped
three magnificent black pearls.  I gazed at them, fascinated--why, I know
not.  Ah! those terrible three black pearls; would to God they had never
been found!  When I showed them to the captain he became very excited,
and said that, as they were worth nearly all the others put together, it
would be well worth our while trying to find more like them.  Now, this
meant stopping at sea longer than was either customary or advisable.  The
pearling season was practically at an end, and the yearly cyclonic
changes were actually due, but the captain had got the "pearl fever" very
badly and flatly refused to leave.  Already we had made an enormous haul,
and in addition to the stock in my charge Jensen had rows of pickle
bottles full of pearls in his cabin, which he would sit and gloat over
for hours like a miser with his gold.  He kept on saying that there
_must_ be more of these black pearls to be obtained; the three we had
found could not possibly be isolated specimens and so on.  Accordingly,
we kept our divers at work day after day as usual.  Of course, I did not
know much about the awful dangers to which we were exposing ourselves by
remaining out in such uncertain seas when the cyclones were due; and I
did not, I confess, see any great reason why we should _not_ continue
pearling.  I was inexperienced, you see.

The pearl-fishing season, as I afterwards learned, extends from November
to May.  Well, May came and went, and we were still hard at work, hoping
that each day would bring another haul of black pearls to our store of
treasure; in this, however, we were disappointed.  And yet the captain
became more determined than ever to find some.  He continued to take
charge of the whale-boat whenever the divers went out to work, and he
personally superintended their operations.  He knew very well that he had
already kept them at work longer than he ought to have done, and it was
only by a judicious distribution of more jewellery, pieces of cloth, &c.,
that he withheld them from openly rebelling against the extended stay.
The serang told him that if the men did once go on strike, nothing would
induce them to resume work, they would simply sulk, he said; and die out
of sheer disappointment and pettishness.  So the captain was compelled to
treat them more amiably than usual.  At the very outside their contract
would only be for nine months.  Sometimes when he showed signs of being
in a cantankerous mood because the haul of shells did not please him, the
serang would say to him defiantly, "Come on; take it out of me if you are
not satisfied."  But Jensen never accepted the challenge.  As the days
passed, I thought the weather showed indications of a change; for one
thing, the aneroid began jumping about in a very uneasy manner.  I called
Jensen's attention to the matter, but he was too much interested in his
hunt for black pearls to listen to me.

And now I pass to the fatal day that made me an outcast from civilisation
for so many weary years.  Early one morning in July 1864, Jensen went off
as usual with the whole of his crew, leaving me absolutely alone in
charge of the ship.  The women had often accompanied the divers on their
expeditions, and did so on this occasion, being rather expert at the
work, which they looked upon as sport.

Whenever I look back upon the events of that dreadful day, I am filled
with astonishment that the captain should have been so mad as to leave
the ship at all.  Only an hour before he left, a tidal wave broke over
the stern, and flooded the cabins with a perfect deluge.  Both Jensen and
I were down below at the time, and came in for an awful drenching.  This
in itself was a clear and ominous indication of atmospheric disturbance;
but all that poor Jensen did was to have the pumps set to work, and after
the cabins were comparatively dry he proceeded once more to the pearl
banks that fascinated him so, and on which he probably sleeps to this
day.  The tide was favourable when he left, and I watched the fleet of
little boats following in the wake of the whale-boat, until they were
some three miles distant from the ship, when they stopped for
preparations to be made for the work of diving.  I had no presentiment
whatever of the catastrophe that awaited them and me.

A cool, refreshing breeze had been blowing up to his time, but the wind
now developed a sudden violence, and the sea was lashed into huge waves
that quickly swamped nearly every one of the little cockle-shell boats.
Fortunately, they could not sink, and as I watched I saw that the Malays
who were thus thrown into the water clung to the sides of the little
boats, and made the best of their way to the big craft in charge of
Captain Jensen.  Every moment the sea became more and more turbulent as
the wind quickened to a hurricane.  When all the Malays had scrambled
into the whale-boat, they attempted to pull back to the ship, but I could
see that they were unable to make the slightest headway against the
tremendous sea that was running, although they worked frantically at the
oars.

On the contrary, I was horrified to see that they were gradually drifting
_away from me_, and being carried farther and farther out across the
illimitable sea.  I was nearly distracted at the sight, and I racked my
brains to devise some means of helping them, but could think of nothing
feasible.  I thought first of all of trying to slip the anchor and let
the ship drift in their direction, but I was by no means sure that she
would actually do this.  Besides, I reflected, she might strike on some
of the insidious coral reefs that abound in those fair but terribly
dangerous seas.  So I came to the conclusion that it would be better to
let her remain where she was--at least, for the time being.  Moreover, I
felt sure that the captain, with his knowledge of those regions, would
know of some island or convenient sandbank, perhaps not very far distant,
on which he might run his boat for safety until the storm had passed.

The boats receded farther and farther from view, until, about nine in the
morning, I lost sight of them altogether.  They had started out soon
after sunrise.  It then occurred to me that I ought to put the ship into
some sort of condition to enable her to weather the storm, which was
increasing instead of abating.  This was not the first storm I had
experienced on board the _Veielland_, so I knew pretty well what to do.
First of all, then, I battened down the hatches; this done, I made every
movable thing on deck as secure as I possibly could.  Fortunately all the
sails were furled at the time, so I had no trouble with them.  By mid-day
it was blowing so hard that I positively could not stand upright, but had
to crawl about on my hands and knees, otherwise I should have been hurled
overboard.  I also attached myself to a long rope, and fastened the other
end to one of the masts, so that in the event of my being washed into the
raging sea, I could pull myself on board again.

Blinding rain had been falling most of the time, and the waves came
dashing over the deck as though longing to engulf the little ship; but
she rode them all in splendid style.  The climax was reached about two
o'clock, when a perfect cyclone was raging, and the end seemed very near
for me.  It made me shudder to listen to the wind screaming and moaning
round the bare poles of the sturdy little vessel, which rose on veritable
mountains of water and crashed as suddenly into seething abysses that
made my heart stand still.  Then the weather suddenly became calm once
more--a change that was as unexpected as the advent of the storm itself.
The sky, however, continued very black and threatening, and the sea was
still somewhat boisterous; but both wind and rain had practically
subsided, and I could now look around me without feeling that if I
stirred I was a doomed man.  I clambered up the lower portion of the main
rigging, but only saw black, turbulent waters, hissing and heaving, and
raging on every side, and seemingly stretching away into infinity.  With
terrible force the utter awfulness and hopelessness of my position dawned
upon me, yet I did not despair.  I next thought it advisable to try and
slip my anchor, and let the ship drift, for I still half-fancied that
perhaps I might come across my companions somewhere.  Before I could free
the vessel, however, the wind veered completely round, and, to my horror
and despair, sent a veritable mountain of water on board, that carried
away nearly all the bulwarks, the galley, the top of the companion-way,
and, worst of all, completely wrenched off the wheel.  Compasses and
charts were all stored in the companion-way, and were therefore lost for
ever.  Then, indeed, I felt the end was near.  Fortunately, I was for'ard
at the time, or I must inevitably have been swept into the appalling
waste of whirling, mountainous waters.  This lashing of myself to the
mast, by the way, was the means of saving my life time after time.  Soon
after the big sea--which I had hoped was a final effort of the terrible
storm--the gale returned and blew in the opposite direction with even
greater fury than before.  I spent an awful time of it the whole night
long, without a soul to speak to or help me, and every moment I thought
the ship must go down, in that fearful sea.  The only living thing on
board beside myself was the captain's dog, which I could occasionally
hear howling dismally in the cabin below, where I had shut him in when
the cyclone first burst upon me.

Among the articles carried overboard by the big sea that smashed the
wheel was a large cask full of oil, made from turtle fat, in which we
always kept a supply of fresh meats, consisting mainly of pork and fowls.
This cask contained perhaps twenty gallons, and when it overturned, the
oil flowed all over the decks and trickled into the sea.  The effect was
simply magical.  Almost immediately the storm-tossed waves in the
vicinity of the ship, which hitherto had been raging mountains high,
quieted down in a way that filled me with astonishment.  This
tranquillity prevailed as long as the oil lasted; but as soon as the
supply was exhausted the giant waves became as turbulent and mountainous
as ever.

All night long the gale blew the ship blindly hither and thither, and it
was not until just before daybreak that the storm showed any signs of
abating.  By six o'clock, however, only a slight wind was blowing, and
the sea no longer threatened to engulf me and my little vessel.  I was
now able to look about me, and see what damage had been done; and you may
imagine my relief when I found that the ship was still sound and water-
tight, although the bulwarks were all gone, and she had all the
appearance of a derelict.  One of the first things I did was to go down
and unloose the dog--poor Bruno.  The delight of the poor creature knew
no bounds, and he rushed madly up on deck, barking frantically for his
absent master.  He seemed very much surprised to find no one aboard
besides myself.

Alas!  I never saw Peter Jensen again, nor the forty Malays and the two
women.  Jensen _may_ have escaped; he may even have lived to read these
lines; God only knows what was the fate of the unfortunate fleet of pearl-
fishers.  Priggish and uncharitable people may ejaculate: "The reward of
cupidity!"  But I say, "judge not, lest ye also be judged."

As the morning had now become beautifully fine, I thought I might attempt
to get out some spare sails.  I obtained what I wanted from the fo'c'sle,
and after a good deal of work managed to "bend" a mainsail and staysail.
Being without compass or chart, however, I knew not where I was, nor
could I decide what course to take in order to reach land.  I had a vague
idea that the seas in those regions were studded with innumerable little
islands and sandbanks known only to the pearl-fishers, and it seemed
inevitable that I must run aground somewhere or get stranded upon a coral
reef after I had slipped the cable.

However, I did not see what advantage was to be gained by remaining where
I was, so I fixed from the stern a couple of long sweeps, or steering
oars, twenty-six feet long, and made them answer the purpose of a rudder.
These arrangements occupied me two or three days, and then, when
everything was completed to my satisfaction, and the ship was in sailing
trim, I gave the _Veielland_ her freedom.  This I managed as follows: The
moment the chain was at its tautest--at its greatest tension--I gave it a
violent blow with a big axe, and it parted.  I steered due west, taking
my observations by the sun and my own shadow at morning, noon, and
evening.  For I had been taught to reckon the degree of latitude from the
number of inches of my shadow.  After a time I altered my course to west
by south, hoping that I might come upon one of the islands of the Dutch
Indies,--Timorland, for instance, but day after day passed without land
coming in sight.

Imagine the situation, if you can: alone on a disabled ship in the
limitless ocean,--tortured with doubts and fears about the fate of my
comrades, and filled with horror and despair at my own miserable
prospects for the future.

I did not sail the ship at night, but got out a sea-anchor (using a float
and a long coir rope), and lay-to while I turned in for a sleep.  I would
be up at day-break next morning, and as the weather continued beautifully
fine, I had no difficulty in getting under way again.  At last the
expected happened.  One afternoon, without any warning whatsoever, the
vessel struck heavily on a reef.  I hurriedly constructed a raft out of
the hatches and spare spars, and put biscuits and water aboard, after
which I landed on the rocks.  When the tide reached its lowest point the
stern of the _Veielland_ was left fully _twenty feet out of water_,
securely jammed between two high pinnacles of coral rock.  The sight was
remarkable in the extreme.  The sails were still set, and the stiff
breeze that was blowing dead against them caused them to belly out just
as though the craft were afloat, and practically helped to keep the
vessel in position.  The bows were much higher than the stern, the line
of the decks being at an angle of about forty-five degrees.  In this
remarkable situation she remained secure until the turning of the tide.
My only hope was that she would not suffer from the tremendous strain to
which she was necessarily being subjected.  It seemed to me every minute
that she would free herself from her singular position between the rocks,
and glide down bows foremost into the sea to disappear for ever.  But the
sails kept her back.  How earnestly I watched the rising of the waters;
and night came on as I waited.  Slowly and surely they crept up the bows,
and the ship gradually assumed her natural level until at length the
stanch little craft floated safe and sound once more, apparently very
little the worse for her strange experience.  And then away I went on my
way--by this time almost schooled to indifference.  Had she gone down I
must inevitably have succumbed on those coral reefs, for the stock of
biscuits and water I had been able to put aboard the raft would only have
lasted a very few days.

For nearly a fortnight after the day of the great storm I kept on the
same course without experiencing any unpleasant incident or check, always
excepting the curious threatened wreck which I have just mentioned.

Just before dusk on the evening of the thirteenth day, I caught sight of
an island in the distance--Melville Island I now know it to be; and I was
greatly puzzled to see smoke floating upwards apparently from many fires
kindled on the beach.  I knew that they were signals of some kind, and at
first I fancied that it must be one of the friendly Malay islands that I
was approaching.  A closer scrutiny of the smoke signals, however, soon
convinced me that I was mistaken.  As I drew nearer, I saw a number of
natives, perfectly nude, running wildly about on the beach and
brandishing their spears in my direction.

I did not like the look of things at all, but when I tried to turn the
head of the ship to skirt the island instead of heading straight on, I
found to my vexation that I was being carried forward by a strong tide or
current straight into what appeared to be a large bay or inlet.  I had no
alternative but to let myself drift, and soon afterwards found myself in
a sort of natural harbour three or four miles wide, with very threatening
coral reefs showing above the surface.  Still the current drew me
helplessly onward, and in a few minutes the ship was caught in a
dangerous whirlpool, round which she was carried several times before I
managed to extricate her.  Next we were drawn close in to some rocks, and
I had to stand resolutely by with an oar in order to keep the vessel's
head from striking.  It was a time of most trying excitement for me, and
I wonder to this day how it was that the _Veielland_ did not strike and
founder then and there, considering, firstly, that she was virtually a
derelict, and secondly, that there was no living creature on board to
navigate her save myself.

I was beginning to despair of ever pulling the vessel through, when we
suddenly entered a narrow strait.  I knew that I was in a waterway
between two islands--Apsley Strait, dividing Melville and Bathurst
Islands, as I have since learned.

The warlike and threatening natives had now been left behind long ago,
and I never thought of meeting any other hostile people, when just as I
had reached the narrowest part of the waterway, I was startled by the
appearance of a great horde of naked blacks--giants, every one of them--on
the rocks above me.

They were tremendously excited, and greeted me first of all with a shower
of spears.  Fortunately, on encountering the first lot of threatening
blacks, I had prepared a shelter for myself on deck by means of the
hatches reared up endwise against the stanchions, and so the spears fell
harmlessly around me.  Next, the natives sent a volley of boomerangs on
board, but without any result.  Some of these curious weapons hit the
sails and fell impotently on the deck, whilst some returned to their
throwers, who were standing on the rocks about fifty yards away, near the
edge of the water.  I afterwards secured the boomerangs that came on
board, and found that they were about twenty-four inches in length,
shaped like the blade of a sickle, and measured three or four inches
across at the widest part.

They were made of extremely hard wood, and were undoubtedly capable of
doing considerable injury when dexterously and accurately thrown.  The
blacks kept up a terrific hubbub on shore, yelling like madmen, and
hurling at me showers of barbed spears.  The fact that they had
boomerangs convinced me that I must be nearing the Australian mainland.
All this time the current was carrying the _Veielland_ rapidly along, and
I had soon left the natives jabbering furiously far behind me.

At last I could see the open sea once more, and at the mouth of the
strait was a little low, wooded island, where I thought I might venture
to land.  As I was approaching it, however, yet another crowd of blacks,
all armed, came rushing down to the beach; they jumped into their
catamarans, or "floats," and paddled out towards me.

After my previous experience I deemed it advisable not to let them get
too near, so I hoisted the mainsail again and stood for the open sea.
There was a good supply of guns and ammunition on board, and it would
have been an easy matter for me to have sunk one or two of the native
catamarans, which are mere primitive rafts or floats, and so cooled their
enthusiasm a bit; but I refrained, on reflecting that I should not gain
anything by this action.

By this time I had abandoned all hope of ever coming up with my friends,
but, of course, I did not despair of reaching land--although I hardly
knew in what direction I ought to shape my course.  Still, I thought that
if I kept due west, I should eventually sight Timor or some other island
of the Dutch Indies, and so, for the next three or four days, I sailed
steadily on without further incident.

About a week after meeting with the hostile blacks, half a gale sprang
up, and I busied myself in putting the ship into trim to weather the
storm, which I knew was inevitable.  I happened to be looking over the
stern watching the clouds gathering in dark, black masses, when a strange
upheaval of the waters took place almost at my feet, and a huge black
fish, like an exaggerated porpoise, leaped into the air close to the
stern of my little vessel.

It was a monstrous, ungainly looking creature, nearly the size of a small
whale.  The strange way it disported itself alongside the ship filled me
with all manner of doubtings, and I was heartily thankful when it
suddenly disappeared from sight.  The weather then became more
boisterous, and as the day advanced I strove my utmost to keep the ship's
head well before the wind; it was very exhausting work.  I was unable to
keep anything like an adequate look-out ahead, and had to trust to
Providence to pull me through safely.

All this time I did not want for food.  Certainly I could not cook
anything, but there was any quantity of tinned provisions.  And I fed
Bruno, too.  I conversed with him almost hourly, and derived much
encouragement and sympathy therefrom.  One morning sometime between the
fifteenth and twentieth day, I was scanning the horizon with my customary
eagerness, when suddenly, on looking ahead, I found the sea white with
the foam of crashing breakers; I knew I must be in the vicinity of a
sunken reef.  I tried to get the ship round, but it was too late.  I
couldn't make the slightest impression upon her, and she forged stolidly
forward to her doom.

A few minutes later her keel came into violent contact with a coral reef,
and as she grated slowly over it, the poor thing seemed to shiver from
stem to stern.  The shock was so severe that I was thrown heavily to the
deck.  Bruno could make nothing whatever of it, so he found relief in
doleful howls.  While the vessel remained stuck on the rocks, I was
looking out anxiously from the rigging, when, without a moment's warning,
a gigantic wave came toppling and crashing overboard from the stern,
overwhelming me in the general destruction that followed.  I was dashed
with tremendous force on to the deck, and when I picked myself up,
bruised and bleeding, the first thing I was conscious of was a deathly
stillness, which filled me with vague amazement, considering that but a
few moments before my ears had been filled with the roar and crash of the
breakers.  And I could see that the storm was still raging with great
fury, although not a sound reached my ears.

Gradually the horrible truth dawned upon me--_I was stone deaf_!  The
blow on the head from the great wave had completely deprived me of all
sense of hearing.  How depressed I felt when I realised this awful fact
no one can imagine.  Nevertheless, things were not altogether hopeless,
for next morning I felt a sudden crack in my left ear, and immediately
afterwards I heard once more the dull roar of the surf, the whistling of
the wind, and the barking of my affectionate dog.  My right ear, however,
was permanently injured, and to this day I am decidedly deaf in that
organ.  I was just beginning to think that we had passed over the most
serious part of the danger, when to my utter despair I again heard that
hideous grating sound, and knew she had struck upon another reef.  She
stuck there for a time, but was again forced on, and presently floated in
deep water.  The pitiless reefs were now plainly visible on all sides,
and some distance away I could see what appeared to be nothing more than
a little sandbank rising a few feet above the waters of the lagoon.

While I was watching and waiting for developments the deck of the vessel
suddenly started, and she began rapidly to settle down by the stern.
Fortunately, however, at that point the water was not excessively deep.
When I saw that nothing could save the ship, and that her deck was all
but flush with the water, I loosened several of the fittings, as well as
some spars, casks, and chests, in the hope that they might drift to land
and perhaps be of service to me afterwards.  I remained on board as long
as I possibly could, trying to build a raft with which to get some things
ashore, but I hadn't time to finish it.

Up and up came the inexorable water, and at last, signalling to Bruno to
follow me, I leaped into the sea and commenced to swim towards the
sandbank.  Of course, all the boats had been lost when the pearling fleet
disappeared.  The sea was still very rough, and as the tide was against
us, I found it extremely exhausting work.  The dog seemed to understand
that I was finding it a dreadful strain, for he swam immediately in front
of me, and kept turning round again and again as though to see if I were
following safely.

By dint of tremendous struggling I managed to get close up to the shore,
but found it utterly impossible to climb up and land.  Every time I
essayed to plant my legs on the beach, the irresistible backwash swept me
down, rolling me head over heels, and in my exhausted condition this
filled me with despair.  On one occasion this backwash sent me spinning
into deep water again, and I am sure I should have been drowned had not
my brave dog come to my rescue and seized me by my hair--which, I should
have explained, I had always worn long from the days of my childhood.
Well, my dog tugged and tugged at me until he had got me half-way through
the breakers, nor did this exertion seem to cause him much trouble in
swimming.

I then exerted myself sufficiently to allow of his letting go my hair,
whilst I took the end of his tail between my teeth, and let him help me
ashore in this peculiar way.  He was a remarkably strong and sagacious
brute--an Australian dog--and he seemed to enjoy the task.  At length I
found myself on my legs upon the beach, though hardly able to move from
exhaustion of mind and body.  When at length I had recovered sufficiently
to walk about, I made a hasty survey of the little island or sandbank
upon which I found myself.  Thank God, I did not realise at that moment
that I was doomed to spend a soul-killing _two and a half years_ on that
desolate, microscopical strip of sand!  Had I done so I must have gone
raving mad.  It was an appalling, dreary-looking spot, without one single
tree or bush growing upon it to relieve the terrible monotony.  I tell
you, words can never describe the horror of the agonising months as they
crawled by.  "My island" was nothing but a little sand-spit, with here
and there a few tufts of grass struggling through its parched surface.  As
a matter of fact the sand was only four or five inches deep in most
places, and underneath was solid coral rock.

Think of it, ye who have envied the fate of the castaway on a gorgeous
and fertile tropical island perhaps miles in extent!  It was _barely a
hundred yards in length_, _ten yards wide_, _and only eight feet above
sea-level at high water_!  There was no sign of animal life upon it, but
birds were plentiful enough--particularly pelicans.  My tour of the
island occupied perhaps ten minutes; and you may perhaps form some
conception of my utter dismay on failing to come across any trace of
fresh water.

With what eager eyes did I look towards the ship then!  So long as she
did not break up I was safe because there were water and provisions in
plenty on board.  And how I thanked my God for the adamant bulwarks of
coral that protected my ark from the fury of the treacherous seas!  As
the weather became calmer, and a brilliant moon had risen, I decided to
swim back to the ship, and bring some food and clothing ashore from her.

I reached the wreck without much trouble, and clambered on board, but
could do very little in the way of saving goods, as the decks were still
below water.  However, I dived, or rather ducked, for the depth of water
was only four or five feet, into the cabin and secured some blankets, but
I could not lay my hands on any food.

After infinite trouble I managed to make some sort of a raft out of
pieces of wood I found lying loose and floating about, and upon this
platform I placed the blankets, an oak chest, and one or two other
articles I proposed taking ashore.  In the oak chest were a number of
flags, some clothing and medicine together with my case of pearls and the
four medical books.  But after I had launched it, I found that the tide
was still running out, and it was impossible for me to get anything
ashore that night.  The weather was beautifully fine, however, and as the
forepart of the ship was well out of water, I decided to remain on board
and get an hour or two's sleep, which I needed badly.  The night passed
without incident, and I was astir a little before dawn.

As the tide was now favourable, I loosed my raft and swam it ashore.  When
I gained the island, I made another survey of it, to find the most
suitable spot for pitching my camp, and in the course of my wanderings I
made a discovery that filled me with horror and the anguish of blackest
despair.  My curiosity was first attracted by a human skull that lay near
a large circular depression in the sand about two feet deep.  I commenced
scratching with my fingers at one side, and had only gone a few inches
down, when I came upon a quantity of human remains.

The sight struck terror to my heart, and filled me with the most dismal
forebodings.  "My own bones," I thought, "will soon be added to the
pile."  So great was my agony of mind that I had to leave the spot, and
interest myself in other things; but some time afterwards, when I had got
over my nervousness, I renewed my digging operations, and in an hour or
so had unearthed no fewer than sixteen complete skeletons--fourteen
adults, and two younger people, possibly women!  They lay alongside one
another, covered by sand that had been blown over them by the wind.




CHAPTER III


On the wreck--Efforts to kindle a fire--My flagstaff--Clothing
impossible--Growing corn in turtles' blood--My house of pearl shells--How
the pelicans fished for me--Stung by a "sting-rae"--My amusements--A
peculiar clock--Threatened madness--I begin to build a boat--An appalling
blunder--Riding on turtles--Preaching to Bruno--Canine sympathy--A
sail--How I got fresh water--Sending messages by the pelicans--A
wonderful almanac--A mysterious voice of hope--Human beings at last.

That morning I made my breakfast off raw sea-gulls' eggs, but was unable
to get anything to drink.  Between nine and ten o'clock, as the tide was
then very low, I was delighted to find that it was possible to reach the
wreck by walking along the rocks.  So, scrambling aboard, I collected as
many things as I could possibly transfer ashore.  I had to take dangerous
headers into the cabin, as the whole ship's interior was now full of
water, but all I could manage to secure were a tomahawk and my bow and
arrows, which had been given me by the Papuans.  I had always taken a
keen interest in archery, by the way, and had made quite a name for
myself in this direction long before I left Switzerland.  I also took out
a cooking-kettle.  All these seemingly unimportant finds were of vital
importance in the most literal sense of the phrase, particularly the
tomahawk and the bow, which were in after years my very salvation time
after time.

I was very delighted when I secured my bow and arrows, for I knew that
with them I could always be certain of killing sea-fowl for food.  There
was a stock of gunpowder on board and a number of rifles and shot-guns,
but as the former was hopelessly spoiled, I did not trouble about either.
With my tomahawk I cut away some of the ship's woodwork, which I threw
overboard and let drift to land to serve as fuel.  When I did eventually
return to my little island, I unravelled a piece of rope, and then tried
to produce fire by rubbing two pieces of wood smartly together amidst the
inflammable material.  It was a hopeless business, however; a full half-
hour's friction only made the sticks hot, and rub as hard as I would I
could not produce the faintest suspicion of a spark.  I sat down
helplessly, and wondered how the savages I had read of ever got fire in
this way.

Up to this time I had not built myself a shelter of any kind.  At night I
simply slept in the open air on the sand, with only my blankets round me.
One morning I was able to get out of the vessel some kegs of precious
water, a small barrel of flour, and a quantity of tinned foods.  All
these, together with some sails, spars, and ropes, I got safely ashore,
and in the afternoon I rigged myself up a sort of canvas awning as a
sleeping-place, using only some sails and spars.

Among the things I brought from the ship on a subsequent visit were a
stiletto that had originally been given to me by my mother.  It was an
old family relic with a black ebony handle and a finely tempered steel
blade four or five inches in length.  I also got a stone tomahawk--a mere
curio, obtained from the Papuans; and a quantity of a special kind of
wood, also taken on board at New Guinea.  This wood possessed the
peculiar property of smouldering for hours when once ignited, without
actually bursting into flame.  We took it on board because it made such
good fuel.

As the most urgent matter was to kindle a fire, I began experiments with
my two weapons, striking the steel tomahawk against the stone one over a
heap of fluffy material made by unravelling and teasing out a piece of
blanket.  Success attended my patient efforts this time, and to my
inexpressible relief and joy I soon had a cheerful fire blazing alongside
my improvised shelter--and, what is more, I took good care _never to let
it go out during the whole lime I remained a prisoner on the island_.  The
fire was always my first thought, and night and day it was kept at least
smouldering by means of the New Guinea wood I have already mentioned, and
of which I found a large stock on board.  The ship itself, I should
mention, provided me with all the fuel that was required in the ordinary
way, and, moreover, I was constantly finding pieces of wreckage along the
shore that had been gathered in by the restless waves.  Often--oh!
often--I reflected with a shudder what my fate would have been had the
ship gone down in deep water, leaving me safe, but deprived of all the
stores she contained.  The long, lingering agony, the starvation, the
madness of thirst, and finally a horrible death on that far-away strip of
sand, and another skeleton added to that grisly pile!

The days passed slowly by.  In what part of the world I was located I had
not the remotest idea.  I felt that I was altogether out of the beaten
track of ships because of the reefs that studded these seas, and
therefore the prospect of my being rescued was very remote indeed--a
thought that often caused me a kind of dull agony, more terrible than any
mere physical pain.

However, I fixed up a flagstaff on the highest point of the island--(poor
"island,"--_that_ was not many inches)--and floated an ensign _upside
down_ from it, in the hope that this signal of distress might be sighted
by some stray vessel, and indicate the presence of a castaway to those on
board.  Every morning I made my way to the flagstaff, and scanned the
horizon for a possible sail, but I always had to come away disappointed.
This became a habit; yet, so eternal is hope, that day by day, week by
week, and month by month the bitter disappointment was always a keen
torture.  By the way, the very reefs that made those seas so dangerous
served completely to protect my little island in stormy weather.  The
fury of the billows lost itself upon them, so that even the surf very
rarely reached me.  I was usually astir about sunrise.  I knew that the
sun rose about 6 A.M. in those tropical seas and set at 6 P.M.; there was
very little variation all the year round.  A heavy dew descended at
night, which made the air delightfully cool; but in the day it was so
frightfully hot that I could not bear the weight of ordinary clothes upon
my person, so I took to wearing a silk shawl instead, hung loosely round
my waist.

Another reason why I abandoned clothes was because I found that when a
rent appeared the sun blazed down through it and raised a painful
blister.  On the other hand, by merely wearing a waist-cloth, and taking
constant sea baths, I suffered scarcely at all from the scorching
tropical sun.  I now devoted all my energies to the wreck of the
_Veielland_, lest anything should happen to it, and worked with feverish
energy to get everything I possibly could out of the ship.  It took me
some months to accomplish this, but eventually I had removed
everything--even the greater part of the cargo of pearl shells.  The work
was rendered particularly arduous in consequence of the decks being so
frequently under water; and I found it was only at the full and new moons
that I could actually _walk_ round on the rocks to the wreck.  In course
of time the ship began to break up, and I materially assisted the
operation with an axe.  I wanted her timbers to build a boat in which to
escape.

The casks of flour I floated ashore were very little the worse for their
immersion; in fact, the water had only soaked through to the depth of a
couple of inches, forming a kind of protecting wet crust, and leaving the
inner part perfectly dry and good.  Much of this flour, however, was
afterwards spoiled by weevils; nor did my spreading out the precious
grain in the sunlight on tarpaulins and sails save it from at least
partial destruction.  I also brought ashore bags of beans, rice, and
maize; cases of preserved milk and vegetables, and innumerable other
articles of food, besides some small casks of oil and rum.  In fact, I
stripped the ship's interior of everything, and at the end of nine months
very little remained of her on the rocks but the bare skeleton of the
hull.  I moved all the things out day by day according to the tides.

In a large chest that came ashore from the captain's cabin I found a
stock of all kinds of seeds, and I resolved to see whether I could grow a
little corn.  Jensen himself had put the seeds aboard in order to plant
them on some of the islands near which we might be compelled to anchor
for some length of time.  Another object was to grow plants on board for
the amusement of the Malays.  The seeds included vegetables, flowers, and
Indian corn, the last named being in the cob.  The Malays are very fond
of flowers, and the captain told them that they might try and cultivate
some in boxes on board; but when he saw that this would mean an
additional drain upon his supply of fresh water he withdrew the
permission.  I knew that salt water would not nourish plants, and I was
equally certain I could not spare fresh water from my own stock for this
purpose.

Nevertheless, I set my wits to work, and at length decided upon an
interesting experiment.  I filled a large turtle shell with sand and a
little clay, and thoroughly wetted the mixture with turtle's blood, then
stirring the mass into a puddle and planting corn in it.

The grain quickly sprouted, and flourished so rapidly, that within a very
short time I was able to transplant it--always, however, nourishing it
with the blood of turtles.  This most satisfactory result induced me to
extend my operation, and I soon had quaint little crops of maize and
wheat growing in huge turtle shells; the wheat-plants, however, did not
reach maturity.

For a long time I was content with the simple awning I have described as
a place of shelter, but when I began to recover the pearl shells from the
ship, it occurred to me that I might use them as material with which to
build some kind of a hut.  Altogether there were about thirty tons of
pearl shells on board, and at first I took to diving for them merely as a
sort of pastime.

I spent many weeks getting enough shells ashore to build a couple of
parallel walls, each about seven feet high, three feet thick, and ten
feet in length.  The breeze blew gratefully through them.  I filled the
interstices of these walls with a puddle of clayey sand and water,
covered in the top with canvas, and made quite a comfortable living-place
out of it.  The walls at any rate had a high commercial value!  When the
wet season set in I built a third wall at one end, and erected a sort of
double awning in front, under which I always kept my fire burning.  I
also put a straw thatch over the hut, proudly using my own straw which I
had grown with blood.

In course of time I made myself crude articles of furniture, including a
table, some chairs, a bed, &c.  My bedding at first consisted of sails,
but afterwards I was able to have a mattress filled with straw from my
corn patch.  The kettle I had saved from the wreck was for a long time my
only cooking utensil, so when I had anything to prepare I generally made
an oven in the sand, after the manner of the natives I had met on the New
Guinea main.  I could always catch plenty of fish--principally mullet;
and as for sea-fowls, all that I had to do was walk over to that part of
the island where they were feeding and breeding, and knock them over with
a stick.  I made dough-cakes from the flour whilst it lasted; and I had
deputies to fish for me--I mean the hundreds of pelicans.  The birds who
had little ones to feed went out in the morning, and returned in the
afternoon, with from three to ten pounds of delicious fresh fish in their
curious pouches.

On alighting on the island they emptied their pouches on the sand--too
often, I must confess, solely for my benefit.  Selfish bachelor birds on
returning with full pouches jerked their catch into the air, and so
swallowed it.  It used to amuse me, however, to watch a robber gull,
perched on their back, cleverly and neatly intercepting the fish as it
ascended.  These fish, with broiled turtle meat and tinned fruits, made
quite a sumptuous repast.

After breakfast I would have a swim when the tide was low and there was
no likelihood of sharks being about.  A run along the beach in the sun
until I was dry followed, and then I returned to my awning and read aloud
to myself in English, from my medical books and my English-French
Testament, simply for the pleasure of hearing my own voice.  I was a very
good linguist in those days, and spoke English particularly well long
before I left Switzerland.  After breakfast, my dog and I would go out to
catch a peculiar sort of fish called the "sting-rae."  These curious
creatures have a sharp bony spike about two inches in length near the
tail and this I found admirably adapted for arrow-heads.  The body of the
fish resembled a huge flounder, but the tail was long and tapering.  They
would come close in-shore, and I would spear them from the rocks with a
Papuan fishing-spear.  The smallest I ever caught weighed fifteen pounds,
and I could never carry home more than a couple of average weight.  They
have the power of stinging, I believe, electrically, hence their name.  At
all events, I was once stung by one of these fish, and it was an
experience I shall never forget.  It fortunately happened at a time when
some friendly blacks were at hand, otherwise I question very much whether
I should be alive to-day.

I was wading slowly along the beach in rather deep water, when I suddenly
felt a most excruciating pain in my left ankle.  It seemed as though I
had just received a paralysing shock from a powerful battery, and down I
fell in a state of absolute collapse, unable to stir a finger to save
myself, although I knew I was rapidly drowning.  Fortunately the blacks
who were with me came and pulled me ashore, where I slowly recovered.
There was only a slight scratch on my ankle, but for a long time my whole
body was racked with pain, and when the natives got to know of the
symptoms they told me that I had been attacked by a "sting-rae."  The
spike or sting measures from two to six inches in length according to the
size of the fish.

But to return to my solitary life on the island.  The flesh of the sting-
rae was not pleasant to eat, being rather tough and tasteless, so I used
it as a bait for sharks.  Turtles visited the island in great numbers,
and deposited their eggs in holes made in the sand above high-water mark.
They only came on land during the night, at high tide; and whenever I
wanted a special delicacy, I turned one over on its back till morning,
when I despatched it leisurely with my tomahawk.  The creatures' shells I
always devoted to the extension of my garden, which became very large,
and eventually covered fully two-thirds of the island.  The maize and cob-
corn flourished remarkably well, and I generally managed to get three
crops in the course of a year.  The straw came in useful for bedding
purposes, but as I found the sand-flies and other insects becoming more
and more troublesome whilst I lay on the ground, I decided to try a
hammock.  I made one out of shark's hide, and slung it in my hut, when I
found that it answered my purpose splendidly.

The great thing was to ward off the dull agony, the killing depression,
and manias generally.  Fortunately I was of a very active disposition,
and as a pastime I took to gymnastics, even as I had at Montreux.  I
became a most proficient tumbler and acrobat, and could turn two or three
somersaults on dashing down from the sloping roof of my pearl-shell hut;
besides, I became a splendid high jumper, with and without the pole.
Another thing I interested myself in was the construction of a sun-dial.

Indeed, I spent many hours devising some means whereby I could fashion a
reliable "clock," and at last I worked out the principle of the sun-dial
on the sand.  I fixed a long stick perfectly upright in the ground, and
then marked off certain spaces round it by means of pegs and pearl
shells.  I calculated the hours according to the length of the shadows
cast by the sun.

But, in spite of all that I could do to interest or amuse myself, I was
frequently overwhelmed with fits of depression and despair, and more than
once I feared I should lose my mental balance and become a maniac.  A
religious craze took possession of me, and, strive as I might, I could
not keep my mind from dwelling upon certain apparent discrepancies in the
various apostles' versions of the Gospel!

I found myself constantly brooding over statements made in one form by
St. Matthew, and in another by St. Luke; and I conjured up endless
theological arguments and theories, until I was driven nearly frantic.
Much as I regretted it, I was compelled at last to give up reading my New
Testament, and by the exercise of a strong will I forced myself to think
about something totally different.

It took me a long time to overcome this religious melancholia, but I
mastered it in the long run, and was greatly delighted when I found I
could once more read without being hypercritical and doubtful of
everything.  Had I been cast on a luxuriant island, growing fruits and
flowers, and inhabited at least by animals--how different would it have
been!  But here there was nothing to save the mind from madness--merely a
tiny strip of sand, invisible a few hundred yards out at sea.

When the fits of depression came upon me I invariably concluded that life
was unbearable, and would actually rush into the sea, with the deliberate
object of putting an end to myself.  At these times my agony of mind was
far more dreadful that any degree of physical suffering could have been,
and death seemed to have a fascination for me that I could not resist.
Yet when I found myself up to my neck in water, a sudden revulsion of
feeling would come over me, and instead of drowning myself I would
indulge in a swim or a ride on a turtle's back by way of diverting my
thoughts into different channels.

Bruno always seemed to understand when I had an attack of melancholia,
and he would watch my every movement.  When he saw me rushing into the
water, he would follow at my side barking and yelling like a mad thing,
until he actually made me forget the dreadful object I had in view.  And
we would perhaps conclude by having a swimming race.  These fits of
depression always came upon me towards evening, and generally about the
same hour.

In spite of the apparent hopelessness of my position, I never
relinquished the idea of escaping from the island some day, and
accordingly I started building a boat within a month of my shipwreck.

Not that I knew anything whatever about boat-building; but I was
convinced that I could at least make a craft of some sort that would
float.  I set to work with a light heart, but later on paid dearly for my
ignorance in bitter, bitter disappointment and impotent regrets.  For one
thing, I made the keel too heavy; then, again, I used planks that were
absurdly thick for the shell, though, of course, I was not aware of these
things at the time.  The wreck, of course, provided me with all the
woodwork I required.  In order to make the staves pliable, I soaked them
in water for a week, and then heated them over a fire, afterwards bending
them to the required shape.  At the end of nine months of unremitting
labour, to which, latterly, considerable anxiety--glorious hopes and
sickening fears--was added, I had built what I considered a substantial
and sea-worthy sailing boat, fully fifteen feet long by four feet wide.
It was a heavy ungainly looking object when finished, and it required
much ingenuity on my part to launch it.  This I eventually managed,
however, by means of rollers and levers; but the boat was frightfully low
in the water at the stern.  It was quite watertight though, having an
outer covering of sharks' green hide, well smeared with Stockholm tar,
and an inside lining of stout canvas.  I also rigged up a mast, and made
a sail.  When my boat floated I fairly screamed aloud with wild delight,
and sympathetic Bruno jumped and yelped in unison.

But when all my preparations were complete, and I had rowed out a little
way, I made a discovery that nearly drove me crazy.  I found I had
launched the boat in a sort of lagoon several miles in extent, barred by
a crescent of coral rocks, over which _I could not possibly drag my craft
into the open sea_.  Although the water covered the reefs at high tide it
was never of sufficient depth to allow me to sail the boat over them.  I
tried every possible opening, but was always arrested at some point or
other.  After the first acute paroxysm of despair--beating my head with
my clenched fists--I consoled myself with the thought that when the high
tides came, they would perhaps lift the boat over that terrible barrier.
I waited, and waited, and waited, but alas! only to be disappointed.  My
nine weary months of arduous travail and half-frantic anticipation were
cruelly wasted.  At no time could I get the boat out into the open sea in
consequence of the rocks, and it was equally impossible for me unaided to
drag her back up the steep slope again and across the island, where she
could be launched opposite an opening in the encircling reefs.  So there
my darling boat lay idly in the lagoon--a useless thing, whose sight
filled me with heartache and despair.  And yet, in this very lagoon I
soon found amusement and pleasure.  When I had in some measure got over
the disappointment about the boat, I took to sailing her about in the
lagoon.  I also played the part of Neptune in the very extraordinary way
I have already indicated.  I used to wade out to where the turtles were,
and on catching a big six-hundred-pounder, I would calmly sit astride on
his back.

Away would swim the startled creature, mostly a foot or so below the
surface.  When he dived deeper I simply sat far back on the shell, and
then he was forced to come up.  I steered my queer steeds in a curious
way.  When I wanted my turtle to turn to the left, I simply thrust my
foot into his right eye, and _vice versa_ for the contrary direction.  My
two big toes placed simultaneously over both his optics caused a halt so
abrupt as almost to unseat me.  Sometimes I would go fully a mile out to
sea on one of these strange steeds.  It always frightened them to have me
astride, and in their terror they swam at a tremendous pace until
compelled to desist through sheer exhaustion.

Before the wet season commenced I put a straw thatch on the roof of my
hut, as before stated, and made my quarters as snug as possible.  And it
was a very necessary precaution, too, for sometimes it rained for days at
a stretch.  The rain never kept me indoors, however, and I took exercise
just the same, as I didn't bother about clothes, and rather enjoyed the
shower bath.  I was always devising means of making life more tolerable,
and amongst other things I made a sort of swing, which I found extremely
useful in beguiling time.  I would also practise jumping with long poles.
One day I captured a young pelican, and trained him to accompany me in my
walks and assist me in my fishing operations.  He also acted as a decoy.
Frequently I would hide myself in some grass, whilst my pet bird walked a
few yards away to attract his fellows.  Presently he would be joined by a
whole flock, many of which I lassoed, or shot with my bow and arrows.

But for my dog--my almost human Bruno--I think I must have died.  I used
to talk to him precisely as though he were a human being.  We were
absolutely inseparable.  I preached long sermons to him from Gospel
texts.  I told him in a loud voice all about my early life and school-
days at Montreux; I recounted to him all my adventures, from the fatal
meeting with poor Peter Jensen in Singapore, right up to the present; I
sang little _chansons_ to him, and among these he had his favourites as
well as those he disliked cordially.  If he did not care for a song, he
would set up a pitiful howl.  I feel convinced that this constant
communing aloud with my dog saved my reason.  Bruno seemed always to be
in such good spirits that I never dreamed of anything happening to him;
and his quiet, sympathetic companionship was one of the greatest
blessings I knew throughout many weird and terrible years.  As I talked
to him he would sit at my feet, looking so intelligently at me that I
fancied he understood every word of what I was saying.

When the religious mania was upon me, I talked over all sorts of
theological subjects with my Bruno, and it seemed to relieve me, even
though I never received any enlightenment from him upon the knotty point
that would be puzzling me at that particular time.  What delighted him
most of all was for me to tell him that I loved him very dearly, and that
he was even more valuable to me than the famous dogs of St. Bernard were
to benighted travellers in the snow.

I knew very little about musical instruments, but as I had often longed
for something to make a noise with, if only to drown the maddening crash
of the eternal surf, I fashioned a drum out of a small barrel, with
sharks' skin stretched tightly over the open ends.  This I beat with a
couple of sticks as an accompaniment to my singing, and as Bruno
occasionally joined in with a howl of disapproval or a yell of joy, the
effect must have been picturesque if not musical.  I was ready to do
almost anything to drown that ceaseless cr-ash, cr-ash of the breakers on
the beach, from whose melancholy and monotonous roar I could never escape
for a single moment throughout the whole of the long day.  However, I
escaped its sound when I lay down to sleep at night by a very simple
plan.  As I was stone-deaf in the right ear I always slept on the left
side.

Seven weary months had passed away, when one morning, on scanning the
horizon, I suddenly leaped into the air and screamed: "My God!  A sail!  A
sail!"  I nearly became delirious with excitement, but, alas! the ship
was too far out to sea to notice my frantic signals.  My island lay very
low, and all that I could make out of the vessel in the distance was her
sails.  She must have been fully five miles away, yet, in my excitement,
I ran up and down the miserable beach, shouting in a frenzy and waving my
arms in the hope of attracting the attention of some one on board; but it
was all in vain.  The ship, which I concluded was a pearler, kept
steadily on her way, and eventually disappeared below the horizon.

Never can I hope to describe the gnawing pain at my heart as, hoarse and
half mad, I sank exhausted on the sand, watching the last vestige of the
ship disappearing.  Altogether, I saw five ships pass in this way during
my sojourn on the island, but they were always too far out at sea to
notice my signals.  One of these vessels I knew to be a man-o'-war flying
the British ensign.  I tried to rig up a longer flag-staff, as I thought
the original one not high enough for its purpose.  Accordingly I spliced
a couple of long poles together, but to my disappointment found them too
heavy to raise in the air.  Bruno always joined in my enthusiasm when a
sail was in sight; in fact, he was generally the first to detect it, and
he would bark and drag at me until he had drawn my attention to the new
hope.  And I loved him for his tender sympathy in my paroxysms of regret
and disappointment.  The hairy head would rub coaxingly against my arm,
the warm tongue licking my hand, and the faithful brown eyes gazing at me
with a knowledge and sympathy that were more than human--these I feel
sure saved me again and again.  I might mention that, although my boat
was absolutely useless for the purpose of escape, I did not neglect her
altogether, but sailed her about the enclosed lagoon by way of practice
in the handling of her sails.  This was also a welcome recreation.

I never feared a lack of fresh water, for when, in the dry season, the
ship's stock and my reserve from the wet season were exhausted, I busied
myself with the condensing of sea water in my kettle, adding to my store
literally drop by drop.  Water was the only liquid I drank, all the tea
and coffee carried on board having been rendered utterly useless.

The powerful winged birds that abounded on the island one day gave me an
idea: Why not hang a message around their necks and send them forth into
the unknown?  Possibly they might bring help--who knows?  And with me to
conceive was to act.  I got a number of empty condensed-milk tins, and,
by means of fire, separated from the cylinder the tin disc that formed
the bottom.  On this disc I scratched a message with a sharp nail.  In a
few words I conveyed information about the wreck and my deplorable
condition.  I also gave the approximate bearings--latitude fifteen to
thirteen degrees, not far from the Australian main.

These discs--I prepared several in English, French, bad Dutch, German,
and Italian--I then fastened round the necks of the pelicans, by means of
fish-gut, and away across the ocean sped the affrighted birds, so scared
by the mysterious encumbrance that _they never returned to the island_.

I may say here that more than twenty years later, when I returned to
civilisation, I chanced to mention the story about my messenger-birds to
some old inhabitants at Fremantle, Western Australia, when, to my
amazement, they told me that a pelican carrying a tin disc round its
neck, bearing a message in French from a castaway, _had_ been found many
years previously by an old boatman on the beach near the mouth of the
Swan River.  But it was not mine.

So appalling was the monotony, and so limited my resources, that I
welcomed with childish glee any trifling little incident that happened.
For example, one lovely night in June I was amazed to hear a tremendous
commotion outside, and on getting up to see what was the matter, I beheld
dimly countless thousands of birds--Java sparrows I believe them to be.  I
went back to bed again, and in the morning was a little dismayed to find
that my pretty visitors had eaten up nearly all my green corn.  And the
birds were still there when I went forth in the morning.  They made the
air ring with their lively chatter, but the uproar they made was as music
to me.  The majority of them had greyish-yellow bodies, with yellow beaks
and pink ruffs, and they were not at all afraid of me.  I moved about
freely among them, and did not attempt to drive them out of my corn
patch, being only too grateful to see so much life about me.  They rose,
however, in great clouds the next day, much to my regret, and as they
soared heavenwards I could not help envying them their blessed freedom.

I kept count of the long days by means of pearl shells, for I had not
used up the whole cargo in the walls of my hut.  I put shells side by
side in a row, one for each day, until the number reached seven, and then
I transferred one shell to another place, representing the weeks.  Another
pile of shells represented the months; and as for the years, I kept count
of those by making notches on my bow.  My peculiar calendar was always
checked by the moon.

Now, I am not a superstitious man, so I relate the following
extraordinary occurrence merely as it happened, and without advancing any
theory of my own to account for it.  I had been many, many months--perhaps
more than a year--on that terrible little sand-spit, and on the night I
am describing I went to bed as usual, feeling very despondent.  As I lay
asleep in my hammock, I dreamed a beautiful dream.  Some spiritual being
seemed to come and bend over me, smiling pityingly.  So extraordinarily
vivid was the apparition, that I suddenly woke, tumbled out of my
hammock, and went outside on a vague search.  In a few minutes, however,
I laughed at my own folly and turned in again.

I lay there for some little time longer, thinking about the past--for I
dared not dwell on the future--when suddenly the intense stillness of the
night was broken by a strangely familiar voice, which said, distinctly
and encouragingly, "_Je suis avec toi.  Soit sans peur_.  _Tu
reviendras_."  I can never hope to describe my feelings at that moment.

It was not the voice of my father nor of my mother, yet it was certainly
the voice of some one I knew and loved, yet was unable to identify.  The
night was strangely calm, and so startling was this mysterious message
that instinctively I leaped out of my hammock again, went outside and
called out several times, but, of course, nothing happened.  From that
night, however, I never absolutely despaired, even when things looked
their very worst.

Two interminable years had passed away, when one day the weather suddenly
changed, and a terrible gale commenced to blow, which threatened almost
to wreck my little hut.  One morning, a few days later, when the storm
had abated somewhat, I heard Bruno barking wildly on the beach.  A few
seconds afterwards he came rushing into the hut, and would not rest until
I prepared to follow him outside.  Before doing so, however, I picked up
an oar--I knew not why.  I then followed my dog down to the beach,
wondering what could possibly have caused him to make such a fuss.  The
sea was somewhat agitated, and as it was not yet very light, I could not
clearly distinguish things in the distance.

On peering seawards for the third or fourth time, however, I fancied I
could make out a long, black object, which I concluded must be some kind
of a boat, tossing up and down on the billows.  Then I must confess I
began to share Bruno's excitement,--particularly when a few minutes later
I discerned a well-made catamaran, _with several human figures lying
prostrate upon it_!




CHAPTER IV


I try to revive my visitors--Demonstrations of amazement--A variety
entertainment--Evil spirits in the mirror--"The star above my
home"--"Preliminary canter" with the boat--A joyful procession--"Good-bye
to my island home"--Nearing the main--Among the cannibals--Smoke
telegraphy--A weird audience--A nation meets me--My first palace.

My state of mind was perfectly indescribable.  Here, I thought, are some
poor shipwrecked creatures like myself; and I prayed to God that I might
be the means of saving them.  The prospect of having at length some one
to converse with filled me with unutterable joy, and I could hardly
restrain myself from rushing into the water and swimming out to the
catamaran, which was still several hundred yards away from me.  Would it
_never_ draw near? I thought, wild with impatience.  And then, to my
horror, I saw that it was closely followed by a number of sharks, which
swam round and round it expectantly.  Seeing this, I could contain myself
no longer.  Sternly commanding my dog not to follow me, I waded into the
waves and then swam boldly out to the catamaran, taking good care,
however, to make a great noise as I swam, by shouting and splashing in
order to frighten away the sharks.  When eventually I did come up to the
floating platform of logs, I found that there were four blacks upon it--a
man, a woman, and two boys.  All were lying quite prostrate through
exhaustion, apparently more dead than alive.  The sharks still hung on
persistently, but at length I drove them away by beating the water with
my oar, with which I then proceeded to paddle the catamaran ashore.  You
see, the oar I grasped when Bruno came to give the alarm proved of
inestimable value; and so all through my marvellous years of sojourn
among the cannibals an undeniable Providence guided my every action.  But
this will be seen from my narrative in a hundred amazing instances.  I
climbed aboard the catamaran and paddled it into shallow water; and then,
jumping overboard again I pulled it right up on to the beach, and carried
the four blacks one by one into my hut.  They were in a most pitiable
state of collapse.  Their tongues were swollen and protruding out of
their mouths, and for a long time I could get nothing down their throats.
First of all I tried to revive them with cold water, but found they could
not swallow.

Then I remembered the rum I had saved from the wreck all this time, and
procuring some I rubbed their bodies with it, tied wet bandages round
their necks, and rolled them about in wet sails, in the hope that in this
way their bodies might absorb the necessary liquid.  You see I had an
idea that they were dying from want of water.  All four were terribly
emaciated, and in the last stages of exhaustion.  After two or three
hours' treatment, the two boys recovered consciousness, and some little
time later the man also showed signs of reviving, but the woman did not
come to until the afternoon.  None of them, of course, were able to walk;
and in the meantime they did nothing but drink water.  They seemed not to
realise what had happened or where they were until the following day, and
then their surprise--mainly at the sight of me--was beyond all
description.  Their first symptom was one of extreme terror, and in spite
of every kind action I could think of, they held out for a long time
against my advances--although I signed to them that I was their friend,
patting them on the shoulders to inspire confidence, and trying to make
them understand that I had saved them from a terrible death.  I fancy
they all thought they had died and were now in the presence of the
mysterious Great Spirit!  At any rate, it was not until they began to eat
freely that they grew in some measure accustomed to me.  Then an
ungovernable curiosity manifested itself.  From gazing at me unceasingly,
they took to feeling me and patting my skin.  They made queer, guttural
sounds with their mouths, evidently expressive of amazement; they slapped
their thighs, and cracked their fingers.

Next, my belongings came in for inspection, and everything excited
wonderment and delight to such a degree, that I blessed Providence for
sending me so much entertaining society.  My hut, with its curious
thatched roof, excited vast interest; and it was amusing to see the two
boys, aged respectively about twelve and fourteen, following their
parents about, jabbering incessantly, and giving me sly, half-terrified
glances as they examined my implements and utensils.  The woman was the
first to get over her fear of me, and she soon grew to trust me
implicitly; whereas her husband never ceased to view me with inexplicable
suspicion until we regained his own country.  He was a big, repulsive-
looking savage, with a morose and sullen temper; and although he never
showed signs of open antagonism, yet I never trusted him for a moment
during the six long months he was my "guest" on the little sand-bank!  It
seems I unwittingly offended him, and infringed the courtesy common among
his people by declining to take advantage of a certain embarrassing offer
which he made me soon after his recovery.

It may not be anticipating too much to say here that the woman was
destined to play a vitally important part in the whole of my life, and
with her I went through adventures and saw sights more weird and
wonderful than anything I had ever read of, even in the wildest
extravagances of sensational fiction.  But the ruling passion was very
strong, and one of the first things I did was to take my black friends
down to the beach and show them my precious boat floating idly in the
lagoon.  Oddly enough, I had in the meantime always taken the greatest
care of the boat, keeping her bottom clean and generally furbishing her
up--having, however, no particular object in view in doing this, except
perhaps that it gave me something to do.  The poor little "home-made"
boat threw the blacks into a perfect frenzy of astonishment, and they
concluded that I must have come from a very distant part of the world in
so enormous a "catamaran."  As a matter of fact, from that moment they
looked upon me as most certainly a kind of Supreme Spirit from another
world; they may have had doubts before.  Next I showed them the wreck,
which was now only a bare skeleton of rotting woodwork, but still plainly
discernible among the coral rocks.  I tried to explain to them that it
was in the larger boat that I had come, but they failed to understand me.

On returning to the hut I put on my clothes for their benefit, whereupon
their amazement was so great that I seriously contemplated discontinuing
my list of wonders, lest they should become absolutely afraid to remain
with me.  The clothes they considered part of myself--in fact, a kind of
secondary skin!  They were terribly frightened and distressed, and not
one of the four dared approach me.

The blacks did not build themselves any place of shelter, but merely
slept in the open air at night, under the lee of my hut, with a large
fire always burning at their feet.  I offered them both blankets and
sails by way of covering, but they refused them, preferring to lie
huddled close together for warmth.  In the morning the woman would
prepare breakfast for them, consisting of fish (mainly mullet), birds'
and turtles' eggs, and sea-fowl; to which would perhaps be added some
little luxury from my own stock.  They only had two meals a day--one in
the morning and the other in the afternoon.  Their favourite food was
turtle, of which they could eat enormous quantities, especially the fat.
Bruno was a long time before he took kindly to the new arrivals, probably
because they manifested such extraordinary emotion whenever he lifted up
his voice and barked.

I think the only thing that roused the father of the family from his
sullen moods was my extraordinary acrobatic performances, which also
threw the two little nigger boys into hysterics of delight.  Father,
mother, and children tried to imitate my somersaults, "wheels," and
contortions, but came to grief so desperately (once the morose man nearly
broke his neck) that they soon gave it up.  The man would sit and watch
our gambols for hours without moving a muscle.  I was never actually
afraid of him, but took good care not to let him get possession of any of
my weapons; and as I had also taken the precaution to break up and throw
into the sea the spears he had brought with him on his catamaran, I felt
pretty sure he could not do much mischief even if he were so disposed.
After seeing me bring down birds with my bow and arrow he began to hold
me in absolute fear, probably because he had some idea that his own skin
might be jeopardised if he did not accommodate himself to circumstances.
I repeatedly told him that with my boat I might perhaps some day help him
to get back to his own country, and I must say that this suggestion
roused him somewhat from his lethargy, and he appeared profoundly
grateful.

Gradually I acquired a slight acquaintance with the extraordinary
language of the blacks, and had many a chat with the woman, who also
picked up a few words of comical English from me.  She was a woman of
average height, lithe and supple, with an intelligent face and sparkling
eyes.  She was a very interesting companion, and as I grew more
proficient in her queer language of signs, and slaps, and clicks, I
learnt from her many wonderful things about the habits and customs of the
Australian aborigines, which proved extremely useful to me in after
years.  Yamba--for that was her name--told me that when I rescued them
they had been blown miles and miles out of their course and away from
their own country by the terrible gale that had been raging about a
fortnight previously.  It seems that they had originally started out on
an expedition to catch turtles on a little island between Cambridge Gulf
and Queen's Channel, but the storm carried them out to sea.  They drifted
about for many days, until at length they reached my little island.  The
only food they had during the whole of this time was turtle, but they
were entirely without water.  One would think that they must inevitably
have died of thirst, but the blacks are wonderful people for going
without water for prolonged periods.  Moreover, they find a mouthful of
salt water occasionally quite sustaining.

One of my most amusing experiences with the blacks was one day when,
quite accidentally, Yamba caught sight of herself for the first time in
the little oval looking-glass I had hanging up in the hut near my
hammock.  She thoughtlessly took it down and held it close up to her
face.  She trembled, felt the surface of the glass, and then looked
hurriedly on the back.  One long, last, lingering look she gave, and then
flew screaming out of the hut.

Oddly enough, she overcame her fears later, and, woman-like, would come
and look in the mirror for an hour at a stretch, smacking her lips all
the while in wonderment, and making most comical grimaces and contortions
to try various effects.  Her husband, however (Gunda, as I called him),
was very differently affected, for the moment his wife showed him his own
reflection in the glass he gave a terrific yell and bolted to the other
end of the little island, in a state of the most abject terror.  He never
quite overcame his terror and distrust of the mirror, which he evidently
considered possessed of life, and in reality a kind of spirit to be
feared and avoided.

But, of course, the two boys found the glass a never-ending source of
amazement and wonder, and were not in the least afraid of it after the
first natural shock of surprise.  Altogether, I thanked God for sending
me my new companions; and, as you may suppose, they afforded me as much
entertainment and gratification as I and my belongings did them.

Every evening, before retiring to rest, the family squatted round the
fire and indulged in a mournful kind of chant--singing, as I afterwards
learnt, the wonders they had seen on the white man's island; my mirror
coming in for special mention.  This was the only approach to a
"religious service" I ever saw, and was partly intended to propitiate or
frighten away the spirits of the departed, of whom the Australian blacks
have a great horror.

The blacks had been with me two or three weeks, when one evening the man
approached and intimated in unmistakable terms that he wanted to get away
from the island and return to his own land.  He said he thought he and
his family could easily return to their friends on the mainland by means
of the catamaran that had brought them.

And Yamba, that devoted and mysterious creature, solemnly pointed out to
me a glowing star far away on the horizon.  There, she said, lay the home
of her people.  After this I was convinced that the mainland could not be
more than a couple of hundred miles or so away, and I determined to
accompany them on the journey thither, in the hope that this might form
one of the stepping-stones to civilisation and my own kind.  We lost no
time.  One glorious morning we three--Yamba, her husband, and
myself--repaired to the fatal lagoon that hemmed in my precious boat, and
without more ado dragged it up the steep bank by means of rollers run on
planks across the sand-spit, and then finally, with a tremendous splash
and an excited hurrah from myself, it glided out into the water, a thing
of meaning, of escape, and of freedom.  The boat, notwithstanding its
long period of uselessness, was perfectly water-tight and thoroughly
seaworthy, although still unpleasantly low at the stern.  Gunda was
impatient to be off, but I pointed out to him that, as the wind
persistently blew in the wrong direction day after day, we should be
compelled perforce to delay our departure perhaps for some months.  You
see, Gunda was not a man who required to make much preparation: he
thought all we should have to do was to tumble into the boat and set sail
across the sunlit sea.  "I can paddle my catamaran against both wind and
tide; why cannot you do the same?" he would say.  He did not understand
the advantage or uses of sails.  He had lost his own paddles in the
storm, otherwise he would in all probability have left the island on his
own account.  He was like a fish out of water when the novelty of his
situation wore off.  On the other hand, I thought of water, provisions,
and other equally vital necessaries.  So Gunda had to rest content for a
time, and he grew, if possible, more morose and sullen than ever.

During this period of impatient waiting, we made many experimental
voyages out to sea, and generally got the boat into capital trim for the
great and eventful journey.  I saw to it that she was thoroughly well
provisioned with tinned stuffs--long put on one side for the purpose; and
I may say here that at the last moment before starting I placed on board
three large live turtles, which supplied us with meat until we reached
the Australian main.  I also took a plentiful supply of water, in bags
made from the intestines of birds and fishes; also a small cask
containing about ten gallons of the precious fluid, which was placed near
the mast.  In short, as far I was able, I provided everything that was
necessary for this most important journey.  But consider for a moment the
horrible doubts and fears that racked me.  I _fancied_ the mainland was
not very far away, but you must remember I was not at all certain how
long it would take us to reach it; nor could I be sure, therefore,
whether I had taken a sufficient supply of food and water.  Our
provisions, which included tinned meats, corn in the cob and loose,
turtles' flesh and intestines, flour, rice, beans, &c., would, however,
on a fairly liberal allowance, last a little over three weeks.  We also
carried some blankets, nails, tar, and other requisites.  Of my books I
only took my Bible with me.  This I wrapped up in parchment made from
pelican skin, together with four photographs of a certain young lady
which I carried about with me throughout the whole of my wanderings.  The
propulsive power was, of course, the big lug-sail, which was always held
loosely in the hand, and never made fast, for fear of a sudden capsize.

Six months had passed away since the advent of my visitors, when one
morning we all marched out from the hut and down to the beach; the two
boys fairly yelling with joy, and waving bunches of green corn plucked
from my garden.  Their mother skipped gaily hither and thither, and I
myself was hardly able to control my transports of excitement and
exhilaration.  Even Gunda beamed upon the preparations for our release.  I
did not demolish my hut of pearl shells, but left it standing exactly as
it had been during the past two and a half years.  Nor must I omit to
mention that I buried my treasure of pearls deep in the sand at one end
of the island, and in all human probability it is there at this moment,
for I have never returned for them, as I fondly hoped to be able to do so
at some future date.  It is, of course, possible that the precious box
has been washed away in a storm, but more probably the contrary is the
case, and still deeper layers of sand have been silted over this great
treasure.  I dared not carry anything oversea that was not vitally
necessary, and what good were pearls to me on my fearful journey,
convoying four other people out into the unknown in a crazy, home-made
boat?  Even masses of virgin gold were of very little use to me in the
years that followed; but of this more anon.  My condition, by the way, at
this time was one of robust health; indeed, I was getting quite stout
owing to the quantity of turtle I had been eating, whilst Yamba's husband
was positively corpulent from the same reason.

That glorious morning in the last week of May 1866 will ever be graven in
my memory.  As I cast off from that saving but cruel shore, I thanked my
Maker for having preserved me so long and brought me through such awful
perils, as well as for the good health I had always enjoyed.  As the boat
began to ripple through the inclosed waters of the lagoon, the spirits of
the four blacks rose so high that I was afraid they would capsize the
little craft in their excitement.

There was a strong, warm breeze blowing in our favour, and soon my island
home was receding swiftly from our view.  The last thing to remain in
sight was the shell hut, but this, too, disappeared before we had covered
three miles.  It would have been visible from a big ship at a much
greater distance, but no one would ever imagine what it really was.  Yamba
sat near me in the stern, but her husband curled himself up at the
opposite end of the boat; and from the time we reached the open sea
practically until we gained the main, he did not relax his attitude of
reserve and dogged silence.  He ate and drank enormously, however.  You
would have thought we were in a land flowing with milk and honey, instead
of an open boat with limited provisions and an unknown journey in front
of us.  He did exert himself sufficiently on one occasion, however, to
dive overboard and capture a turtle.  He was sitting moodily in the prow
of the boat as usual one afternoon, when suddenly he jumped up, and with
a yell took a header overboard, almost capsizing our heavily laden boat.
At first I thought he must have gone mad, but on heaving to, I saw him
some little distance away in the water struggling with a turtle.  He
managed to get it on its back after a time, and though I felt annoyed at
his recklessness, I could not help laughing at his antics and the comical
efforts made by the turtle to escape.  The turtle was duly hauled aboard,
and we then continued our voyage without delay.  I was dreadfully afraid
of being caught in a storm.  Our boat must inevitably have foundered had
the seas been at all rough.

Fortunately never once did the wind change, so that we were able to sail
on steadily and safely night and day, without deviating in the least from
our course.  We travelled fully four knots an hour, the wind and current
being nearly always in our favour.  It was, however, a painfully
monotonous and trying experience to sit thus in the boat, cramped up as
we were, day after day and night after night.  About the fifth day we
sighted a small island--probably Barker Island, in the vicinity of
Admiralty Gulf--and landed upon it at once solely for the purpose of
stretching our aching limbs.  This little island was uninhabited, and
covered to the very water's edge with dense tropical vegetation.  It was
a perfectly exhilarating experience to walk about on real earth once
more.  We cooked some turtle meat and stayed a few hours on the island,
after which we entered the boat and put off on our journey again.  Just
before leaving I stored a quantity of corn, cobs, seeds, &c., in a little
cairn in case we might be compelled to return.  I always steered, keeping
east by north, but Yamba relieved me for a few hours each
evening--generally between six and nine o'clock, when I enjoyed a brief
but sound sleep.  Gunda never offered to take a spell, and I did not
think it worth while to trouble him.

Thus night and day we sailed steadily on, occasionally sighting sharks
and even whales.  We passed a great number of islands, some of them
wooded and covered with beautiful jungle growths, whilst others were
nothing but rock and sand.  None of them seemed to be inhabited.  The sea
was smooth all the time, but occasionally the currents carried us out of
our course among the islands, and then we had to land and wait till the
tide turned.  No matter how the wind was, if the tide was not also in our
favour we had to land.  We cruised in and out among the islands for ten
days or more, when we rounded Cape Londonderry and then steered S. by E.
The current, however, carried us straight for Cambridge Gulf.  One little
island I sighted between Cambridge Gulf and Queen's Channel had a curious
house-like structure built in one of the trees on the coast.  The trunk
of this tree was very large and tapering, and the platform arrangement
was built amongst the branches at the top, after the manner adopted by
the natives of New Guinea.

You may imagine my feelings when, early one morning, Yamba suddenly
gripped my arm and murmured, "We are nearing my home at last."  I leaped
to my feet, and a few minutes afterwards the mainland came hazily into
view.  Instead of heading straight for it, however, we made for a
beautiful island that stood in the mouth of a large bay, and here we
landed to recuperate for a day or so.  Immediately on our arrival, Yamba
and her husband lit some fires, and made what were apparently
smoke-signals to their friends on the main.  They first cut down a
quantity of green wood with my tomahawk and arranged it in the form of a
pyramid.  Next they obtained fire by rubbing together two pieces of a
certain kind of wood; and as the smoke ascended we saw answering smoke-
signals from the opposite shore.  The smoke was allowed to ascend in
puffs which were regulated by the manipulation of boughs.  Not long after
this curious exchange of signals (and the practice is virtually universal
throughout the whole of aboriginal Australia), we saw three catamarans,
or floats, each carrying a man, shooting across towards our island.  These
catamarans merely consisted of a broad plank with a stick placed
transversely at the prow, on which the black placed his feet.  He
squatted down on the plank and then paddled forward.  I viewed their
approach with mixed sensations of alarm and hope.  I was in the power of
these people, I thought.  They could tear me limb from limb, torture me,
kill and eat me, if they so pleased; I was absolutely helpless.  These
fears, however, were but momentary, and back upon my mind rushed the calm
assurances I had obtained from my clear-eyed mentor, Yamba, to say
nothing about the mysterious message of hope and consolation that had
startled the solemn stillness of that tropical night.  I knew these
people to be cannibals, for, during the long talks we used to have on the
island, Yamba had described to me their horrid feasts after a successful
war.  Nevertheless, I awaited the arrival of the little flotilla with all
the complacency I could muster, but at the same time I was careful to let
Yamba's husband be the first to receive them.

And he advanced to meet them.  The newcomers, having landed, squatted
down some little distance away from the man they had come to meet, and
then Gunda and they gradually edged forwards towards one another, until
at length each placed his nose upon the other's shoulder.  This was
apparently the native method of embracing.  Later Gunda brought his
friends to be introduced to me, and to the best of my ability I went
through the same ridiculous ceremony.  I must say my new friends evinced
an almost uncontrollable terror at the sight of me.  Gunda, however, made
it clear that I was _not_ a returned spirit, but a man like themselves--a
great man certainly, and a mysterious man, but a man all the same.
Although by this time my skin had become tanned and dark, there was
seemingly no end to the amazement it caused the blacks.  They timidly
touched and felt my body, legs, and arms, and were vastly anxious to know
what the covering was I had round my body.  In due time, however, the
excitement subsided somewhat, and then the newcomers prepared more smoke-
signals to their friends on the mainland--this time building five
separate fires in the form of a circle.

It was interesting to watch this remarkable method of communication.  Each
fire was set smoking fiercely a few seconds after its neighbour had
started.  Finally, the columns of smoke united, and ascended together in
the form of a huge pyramid, going up a tremendous height into the still,
hot air.  The meaning of these signals was explained to me.  They
indicated to the people on the mainland that the advance guard had found
Gunda and his family; that they had a great man with them; and that,
furthermore, they might expect us to return all together almost
immediately.  By this time, thanks to Yamba's able and intelligent
lessons, I was able to speak the queer language of the blacks with some
show of fluency, and I could understand them well enough when they did
not jabber too quickly.

The next phase of our arrival was that "smokes" were ascending in all
directions on the mainland, evidently calling the tribes from far and
near.  How these smoke-signals gave an idea of the white man and his
wonders I am utterly at a loss to imagine.  In the meantime Yamba had
prepared a great feast for the visitors, the principal dish being our
remaining big turtle, of which the blacks ate a prodigious quantity.  I
afterwards told them that I was in need of a prolonged rest, my long
journey having wearied me, and after this explanation I retired, and
slung my hammock in a shady nook, where I slept undisturbed from shortly
before noon until late in the day, when my ever-faithful Yamba, who had
been keeping a careful watch, woke me and said that the festivities prior
to our departure were about to take place.

Much refreshed, I rejoined the blacks, and, to their unbounded delight
and amazement, entertained them for a few minutes with some of my
acrobatic tricks and contortions.  Some of the more emulous among them
tried to imitate my feats of agility, but always came dismally to grief--a
performance that created even more frantic merriment than my own.  After
a little while the blacks disappeared, only to come forth a few minutes
later with their bodies gorgeously decorated with stripes of yellow ochre
and red and white pigments.  These startling preparations preceded a
great _corroboree_ in honour of my arrival, and in this embarrassing
function I was, of course, expected to join.  The ceremony was kept up
with extraordinary vigour the whole night long, but all I was required to
do was to sit beating sticks together, and join in the general uproar.
This was all very well for a little while, but the monotony of the affair
was terrible, and I withdrew to my hammock before midnight.

In the morning I saw a great fleet of catamarans putting off from the
mainland, and in a very short time between fifty and sixty natives joined
our party on the island.  Then followed the usual greetings and comical
expressions of amazement--of course, at the sight of me, my boat, and
everything in it.  A few hours later the whole crowd left the island, led
by me in the big boat--which, by the way, attracted as much interest as I
did myself.  The natives forced their catamarans through the water at
great speed, using only one paddle, which was dipped first on one side
and then on the other in rapid succession, without, however, causing the
apparently frail craft to swerve in the slightest degree.

As we approached the new country, I beheld a vast surging crowd of
excited blacks--men, women, and children, all perfectly naked--standing
on the beach.  The moment we landed there was a most extraordinary rush
for my boat, and everything on board her was there and then subjected to
the closest scrutiny.

The people seemed to be divided into clans, and when one clan was busy
inspecting my implements and utensils, another was patiently waiting its
turn to examine the white man's wonders.  I sat in the boat for some
time, fairly bewildered and deafened by the uproarious jabberings and
shrill, excited cries of amazement and wonder that filled the air all
round me.  At last, however, the blacks who had come out to meet us on
the island came to my rescue, and escorted me through the crowd, with
visible pride, to an eminence overlooking the native camping-ground.  I
then learnt that the news of my coming had been smoke-signalled in every
direction for many miles; hence the enormous gathering of clans on the
beach.

The camping-ground I now found myself upon consisted of about thirty
primitive shelters, built of boughs in the most flimsy manner, and only
intended to break the force of the wind.  These shelters, or
"break-winds," were crescent-shaped, had ho roof, and were not in any way
closed in in front.  There were, however, two or three grass huts of
beehive shape, about seven feet high and ten feet in diameter, with a
queer little hole at the base through which the occupier had to crawl.
The inside was perfectly dark.

I was told I could have either a break-wind of boughs or a beehive hut,
and on consideration I chose the latter.  It would, I reflected, ensure
something approaching privacy.  My indefatigable Yamba and a few of her
women friends set to work then and there, and positively in less than an
hour the grass hut was ready for occupation!  I did not, however, stay to
witness the completion of the building operations, but went off with some
self-appointed cicerones to see the different camps; everywhere I was
received with the greatest enthusiasm and manifestations of respect and
friendship.  My simple loin-cloth of crimson Japanese silk occasioned
much astonishment among the blacks, but curiously enough the men were far
more astonished at my _footprints_ than any other attribute I possessed.
It seems that when they themselves walk they turn their feet sideways, so
that they only make a half impression, so to speak, instead of a full
footprint.  On the other hand, I of course planted my feet squarely down,
and this imprint in the sand was followed by a crowd of blacks, who
gravely peered at every footprint, slapping themselves and clicking in
amazement at the wonderful thing!




CHAPTER V


Some queer dishes--Water wizards--A mysterious deputation--I protest
against cannibalism--My marriage ceremony--A startling proposition--Daily
routine--A diet of worms--I proceed cautiously--The cannibal poet sells
his wares--Fishing extraordinary--How emus were caught--Eternal fires--A
coming horror--The first cannibal feast.

I saw very little of Gunda from the moment of landing.  I feel sure that
the fact of his having seen so much of the world, and travelled such a
long distance--to say nothing about bringing back so wonderful a creature
as myself--had rendered him a very great man indeed in the estimation of
his friends; and in consequence of this so much honour was paid him that
he became puffed up with pride, and neglected his faithful wife.

Everywhere I went the natives were absolutely overwhelming in their
hospitality, and presents of food of all kinds were fairly showered upon
me, including such delicacies as kangaroo and opossum meat, rats, snakes,
tree-worms, fish, &c., which were always left outside my hut.  Baked
snake, I ought to mention, was a very pleasant dish indeed, but as there
was no salt forthcoming, and the flesh was very tasteless, I cannot say I
enjoyed this particular native dainty.  The snakes were invariably baked
whole in their skins, and the meat was very tender and juicy, though a
little insipid as to flavour.  The native method of cooking is to scoop
out a hole in the sand with the hands, and then place the article to be
cooked at the bottom.  Some loose stones would then be thrown over the
"joint."  Next would come a layer of sand, and the fire was built on the
top of all.  Rats were always plentiful--often so much so as to become a
serious nuisance.  They were of the large brown variety, and were not at
all bad eating.  I may say here that the women-folk were responsible for
the catching of the rats, the method usually adopted being to poke in
their holes with sticks, and then kill them as they rushed out.  The
women, by the way, were responsible for a good many things.  They were
their masters' dressers, so to speak, in that they were required to carry
supplies of the greasy clay or earth with which the blacks anoint their
bodies to ward off the sun's rays and insect bites; and beside this, woe
betide the wives if _corroboree_ time found them without an ample supply
of coloured pigments for the decoration of their masters' bodies.  One of
the principal duties of the women-folk, however, was the provision of
roots for the family's dinner.  The most important among these
necessaries--besides fine yams--were the root and bud of a kind of water-
lily, which when roasted tasted not unlike a sweet potato.

There was usually a good water supply in the neighbourhood of these
camps, and if it failed (as it very frequently did), the whole tribe
simply moved its quarters elsewhere--perhaps a hundred miles off.

The instinct of these people for finding water, however, was nothing
short of miraculous.  No one would think of going down to the seashore to
look for fresh water, yet they often showed me the purest and most
refreshing of liquids oozing up out of the sand on the beach after the
tide had receded.

All this time, and for many months afterwards, my boat and everything it
contained were saved from molestation and theft by a curious device on
the part of Yamba.  She simply placed a couple of crossed sticks on the
sand near the bows, this being evidently a kind of Masonic sign to all
beholders that they were to respect the property of the stranger among
them; and I verily believe that the boat and its contents might have
remained there until they fell to pieces before any one of those cannibal
blacks would have dreamed of touching anything that belonged to me.

After a time the natives began pointedly to suggest that I should stay
with them.  They had probably heard from Yamba about the strange things I
possessed, and the occult powers I was supposed to be gifted with.  A day
or two after my landing, a curious thing happened--nothing more or less
than the celebration of my marriage!  I was standing near my boat, still
full of thoughts of escape, when two magnificent naked chiefs, decked
with gaudy pigments and feather head-dresses, advanced towards me,
leading between them a young, dusky maiden of comparatively pleasing
appearance.

The three were followed by an immense crowd of natives, and were within a
few feet of me, when they halted suddenly.  One of the chiefs then
stepped out and offered me a murderous-looking club, with a big knob at
one end, which ugly weapon was known as a "waddy."  As he presented this
club the chief made signs that I was to knock the maiden on the head with
it.  Now, on this I confess I was struck with horror and dismay at my
position, for, instantly recalling what Yamba had told me, I concluded
_that a cannibal feast was about to be given in my honour_, and
that--worst horror of all--I might have to lead off with the first
mouthful of that smiling girl.  Of course, I reflected they had brought
the helpless victim to me, the distinguished stranger, to kill with my
own hands.  At that critical moment, however, I resolved to be absolutely
firm, even if it cost me my life.

While I hesitated, the chief remained absolutely motionless, holding out
the murderous-looking club, and looking at me interrogatively, as though
unable to understand why I did not avail myself of his offer.  Still more
extraordinary, the crowd behind observed a solemn and disconcerting
silence.  I looked at the girl; to my amazement she appeared delighted
with things generally--a poor, merry little creature, not more than
fifteen or sixteen years of age.  I decided to harangue the chiefs, and
as a preliminary I gave them the universal sign to sit down and parley.
They did so, but did not seem pleased at what they doubtless considered
an unlooked-for hitch in an interesting ceremony.

Then in hesitating signs, slaps, clicks, and guttural utterances, I gave
them to understand that it was against my faith to have anything whatever
to do with the horrid orgy they contemplated.  The Great Spirit they
dreaded so much yet so vaguely, I went on to say, had revealed to me that
it was wrong to kill any one in cold blood, and still more loathsome and
horrible to eat the flesh of a murdered fellow-creature.  I was very much
in earnest, and I waited with nervous trepidation to see the effect of my
peroration.  Under the circumstances, you may judge of my astonishment
when not only the chiefs, but the whole "nation" assembled, suddenly
burst into roars of eerie laughter.

Then came Yamba to the rescue.  Ah! noble and devoted creature!  The bare
mention of her name stirs every fibre of my being with love and wonder.
Greater love than hers no creature ever knew, and not once but a thousand
times did she save my wretched life at the risk of her own.

Well, Yamba, I say, came up and whispered to me.  She had been studying
my face quietly and eagerly, and had gradually come to see what was
passing in my mind.  She whispered that the chiefs, far from desiring me
to kill the girl for a cannibal feast, were _offering her to me as a
wife_, and that I was merely expected to tap her on the head with the
stick, in token of her subjection to her new spouse!  In short, this blow
on the head was the legal marriage ceremony _tout simple_.  I maintained
my dignity as far as possible, and proceeded to carry out my part of the
curious ceremony.

I tapped the bright-eyed girl on the head, and she immediately fell
prostrate at my feet, in token of her wifely submission.  I then raised
her up gently, and all the people came dancing round us, uttering weird
cries of satisfaction and delight.  Oddly enough, Yamba, far from
manifesting any jealousy, seemed to take as much interest as any one in
the proceedings, and after everything was over she led my new wife away
to the little "humpy," or hut, that had been built for me by the women.
That night an indescribably weird _corroboree_ was held in my honour, and
I thought it advisable, since so much was being made of me, to remain
there all night and acknowledge the impromptu songs that were composed
and sung in my honour by the native bards.  I am afraid I felt utterly
lost without Yamba, who was, in the most literal sense, my right hand.

By this time she could speak a little English, and was so marvellously
intelligent that she seemed to discover things by sheer intuition or
instinct.  I think she never let a day go by without favourably
impressing the chiefs concerning me, my prowess and my powers; and
without her help I simply could not have lived through the long and weary
years, nor should I ever have returned to civilisation.

The very next day after my "marriage," having been still further
enlightened as to the manners and customs of the natives, I waited upon
Gunda, and calmly made to him the proposition that we should exchange
wives.  This suggestion he received with a kind of subdued satisfaction,
or holy joy, and very few further negotiations were needed to make the
transaction complete; and, be it said, it was an every-day transaction,
perfectly legal and recognised by all the clans.  Yamba was full of
vigour and resource, while the only phrase that fitly describes her bush
lore is absolutely miraculous.  This will be evinced in a hundred
extraordinary instances in this narrative.

But you may be asking, What of my dog, Bruno?  Well, I am thankful to
say, he was still with me, but it took him a long time to accustom
himself to his new surroundings; he particularly objected to associating
with the miserable pariah curs that prowled about the encampment.  They
would take sly bites out of him when he was not looking, but on the
whole, he was well able to hold his own, being much more powerful than
they.

I settled down to my new life in the course of a few days, but I need
hardly remark I did not propose staying in that forlorn spot longer than
I could help.  This was my plan.  I would, first of all, make myself
acquainted with the habits and customs of the blacks, and pick up as much
bushmanship and knowledge of the country as it was possible to acquire,
in case I should have to travel inland in search of civilisation instead
of oversea.  I knew that it would be folly on my part to attempt to leave
those hospitable regions without knowing more of the geography of the
country and its people.  There was always, however, the hope that some
day I might be able either to get away by sea in my boat, or else hail
some passing vessel.  The blacks told me they had seen many pass at a
distance.

Every morning I was astir by sunrise, and--hope springing eternal--at
once searched for the faintest indication of a passing sail.  Next I
would bathe in a lagoon protected from sharks, drying myself by a run on
the beach.  Meanwhile Yamba would have gone out searching for roots for
breakfast, and she seldom returned without a supply of my favourite water-
lily buds already mentioned.  Often, in the years that followed, did that
heroic creature _tramp on foot a hundred miles_ to get me a few sprigs of
saline herbs.  She had heard me say I wanted salt, which commodity,
strange to say, was never used by the natives; and even when I gave them
some as an experiment they did not seem to care about it.  She would also
bring in, by way of seasoning, a kind of small onion, known as the
_nelga_, which, when roasted, made a very acceptable addition to our
limited fare.  The natives themselves had but two meals a day--breakfast,
between eight and nine o'clock, and then an enormous feast in the late
afternoon.  Their ordinary food consisted of kangaroo, emu, snakes, rats,
and fish; an especial dainty being a worm found in the black ava tree, or
in any decaying trunk.

These worms were generally grilled on hot stones, and eaten several at a
time like small whitebait.  I often ate them myself, and found them most
palatable.  After breakfast the women of the tribe would go out hunting
roots and snaring small game for the afternoon meal, while the men went
off on their war and hunting expeditions, or amused themselves with feats
of arms.  The children were generally left to their own devices in the
camp, and the principal amusement of the boys appeared to be the hurling
of reed spears at one another.  The women brought home the roots (which
they dug up with yam sticks, generally about four feet long) in nets made
out of the stringy parts of the grass tree; stringy bark, or strong
pliable reeds, slung on their all-enduring backs.  They generally
returned heavily laden between two and three in the afternoon.  I always
knew the time pretty accurately by the sun, but I lost count of the days.
The months, however, I always reckoned by the moon, and for each year I
made a notch on the inside of my bow.

My own food was usually wrapped in palm leaves before being placed in the
sand oven.  Of course the leaves always burned, but they kept the meat
free from sand; and my indefatigable wife was always exercising her
ingenuity to provide me with fresh dainties.  In addition to the ordinary
fare of the natives, I frequently had wild ducks and turkeys, and--what
was perhaps the greatest luxury of all--eggs, which the natives sent for
specially on my account to distant parts of the surrounding country, and
also to the islands of the coast where white cockatoos reared their young
in rocky cliffs.

At the time of my shipwreck I had little or no knowledge of Australian
geography, so that I was utterly at a loss as to my position.  I
afterwards learnt, however, that Yamba's home was on Cambridge Gulf, on
the NNW. coast of the Australian continent, and that the central point of
our camping ground at this time was near the mouth of the Victoria River,
which flows into Queen's Channel.

Almost every evening the blacks would hold a stately _corroboree_,
singing and chanting; the burden of their song being almost invariably
myself, my belongings, and my prowess--which latter, I fear, was
magnified in the most extravagant manner.  Besides the _corroboree_ they
also would assemble for what might not inaptly be termed evening prayers,
which consisted of a poetical recital of the events of the day.  I ought
to mention that at first I did not accompany the men on their excursions
abroad, because I was far from perfect in their language; and
furthermore, I was not skilled in hunting or in bush lore.  Therefore,
fearful of exciting ridicule, I decided to remain behind in the camp
until I was thoroughly grounded in everything there was to be learned.
Supposing, for example, I had gone out with the blacks, and had to
confess myself tired after tramping several miles.  Well, this kind of
thing would certainly have engendered contempt; and once the mysterious
white stranger was found to be full of the frailties of the ordinary man,
his prestige would be gone, and then life would probably become
intolerable.

Thus everything I did I had to excel in, and it was absolutely necessary
that I should be perpetually "astonishing the natives," in the most
literal sense of the phrase.  Accordingly, for the next few weeks, I used
to accompany the women on their root-hunting and rat-catching
expeditions, and from them I picked up much valuable information.

The _corroboree_ was, perhaps, the greatest institution known to the
blacks, who, obliged to do no real work, as we understand it, simply had
to pass the time somehow; and there can be no doubt that, were it not for
the constant feuds and consequent incessant wars, the race would greatly
deteriorate.  The _corroboree_ after a successful battle commenced with a
cannibal feast off the bodies of fallen foes, and it would be kept up for
several days on end, the braves lying down to sleep near the fire towards
morning, and renewing the festivities about noon next day.  The chiefs on
these occasions decked themselves with gorgeous cockatoo feathers, and
painted their bodies with red and yellow ochre and other glaring
pigments, each tribe having its own distinguishing marks.  A couple of
hours were generally spent in dressing and preparing for the ceremony,
and then the gaily-decorated fighting-men would dance or squat round the
fires and chant monotonous songs, telling of all their own achievements
and valour, and the extraordinary sights they had seen in their travels.

The words of the songs were usually composed by the clan's own poet, who
made a living solely by his profession, and even sold his effusions to
other tribes.  As there was no written language the purchaser would
simply be coached orally by the vendor poet; and as the blacks were
gifted with most marvellous memories, they would transmit and resell the
songs throughout vast stretches of country.  These men of the north-west
were of magnificent stature, and possessed great personal strength.  They
were able to walk extraordinary distances, and their carriage was the
most graceful I have ever seen.  Many of them were over six feet high,
well made in proportion and with high broad foreheads--altogether a very
different race from the inhabitants of Central Australia.  One of their
favourite tests of strength was to take a short stick of very hard wood
and bend it in their hands, using the thumbs as levers, till it snapped.
Strange to say, I failed to bend the stick more than a quarter of an
inch.  The women are not very prepossessing, and not nearly so graceful
in their bearing and gait as the men.  Poor creatures! they did all the
hard work of the camp-building, food-hunting, waiting, and serving.
Occasionally, however, the men did condescend to go out fishing, and they
would also organise _battues_ when a big supply of food was wanted.  These
great hunting-parties, by the way, were arranged on an immense scale, and
fire figured largely in them.  The usual routine was to set fire to the
bush, and then as the terrified animals and reptiles rushed out in
thousands into the open, each party of blacks speared every living thing
that came its way within a certain sphere.  The roar of the
fast-spreading fire, the thousands of kangaroos, opossums, rats, snakes,
iguanas, and birds that dashed hither and thither, to the accompaniment
of bewildering shouts from the men and shrill screeches from the women,
who occasionally assisted, flitting hither and thither like eerie witches
amidst the dense pall of black smoke--all these made up a picture which
is indelibly imprinted on my mind.

As a rule, hosts of hawks and eagles are to be seen flying over the black
man's camp, but on the occasion of a bush fire they follow its train,
well knowing that they will obtain prey in abundance.  With regard to the
fishing parties, these went out either early in the morning, soon after
sunrise, or in the evening, when it was quite dark.  On the latter
occasions, the men carried big torches, which they held high in the air
with one hand, while they waded out into the water with their spears
poised, in readiness to impale the first big fish they came across.

When the spearmen _did_ strike, their aim was unerring, and the
struggling fish would be hurled on to the beach to the patient
women-folk, who were there waiting for them, with their big nets of grass
slung over their backs.  Sometimes a hundred men would be in the shallow
water at once, all carrying blazing torches, and the effect as the
fishermen plunged and splashed this way and that, with shouts of triumph
or disappointment, may be better imagined than described.  In the daytime
a rather different method was adopted.  Some acres of the shallow lagoon
would be staked out at low water in the shape of an inverted V, an
opening being left for the fish to pass through.

The high tide brought the fish in vast shoals, and then the opening would
be closed.  When the tide receded, the staked enclosure became, in
effect, a gigantic net, filled with floundering fish, big and little.  The
natives then waded into the inclosure, and leisurely despatched the fish
with their spears.

Nothing was more interesting than to watch one of these children of the
bush stalking a kangaroo.  The man made not the slightest noise in
walking, and he would stealthily follow the kangaroo's track for miles
(the tracks were absolutely invisible to the uninitiated).  Should at
length the kangaroo sniff a tainted wind, or be startled by an incautious
movement, his pursuer would suddenly become as rigid as a bronze figure,
and he could remain in this position for hours.  Finally, when within
thirty or forty yards of the animal, he launched his spear, and in all
the years I was among these people I never knew a man to miss his aim.
Two distinct kinds of spears were used by the natives, one for hunting
and the other for war purposes.  The former averaged from eight to ten
feet, whilst the latter varied from ten to fourteen feet in length; the
blade in each case, however, consisting either of bone or stone, with a
shaft of some light hard wood.  Metals were, of course, perfectly unknown
as workable materials.  The war-spear was not hurled javelin-fashion like
the hunting-spear, but propelled by means of a wommerah, which, in
reality, was a kind of sling, perhaps twenty-four inches long, with a
hook at one end to fix on the shaft of the spear.  In camp the men mainly
occupied their time in making spears and mending their weapons.  They
hacked a tree down and split it into long sections by means of wedges, in
order to get suitable wood for their spear-shafts.

To catch emus the hunters would construct little shelters of grass at a
spot overlooking the water-hole frequented by these birds, and they were
then speared as they came down for water.  The largest emu I ever saw, by
the way, was more than six feet high, whilst the biggest kangaroo I came
across was even taller than this.  Snakes were always killed with sticks,
whilst birds were brought down with the wonderful boomerang.

As a rule, only sufficient food was obtained to last from day to day; but
on the occasion of one of the big _battues_ I have described there would
be food in abundance for a week or more, when there would be a horrid
orgy of gorging and one long continuous _corroboree_, until supplies gave
out.

The sport which I myself took up was dugong hunting; for I ought to have
mentioned that I brought a harpoon with me in the boat, and this most
useful article attracted as much attention as anything I had.  The
natives would occasionally put their hands on my tomahawk or harpoon, and
never ceased to wonder why the metal was so cold.

Whenever I went out after dugong, accompanied by Yamba (she was ever with
me), the blacks invariably came down in crowds to watch the operation
from the beach.

But, you will ask, what did I want with dugong, when I had so much other
food at hand?  Well my idea was to lay in a great store of dried
provisions against the time when I should be ready to start for
civilisation in my boat.  I built a special shed of boughs, in which I
conducted my curing operations; my own living-place being only a few
yards away.  It was built quite in European fashion, with a sloping roof.
The interior was perhaps twenty feet square and ten feet high, with a
small porch in which my fire was kept constantly burning.  When we had
captured a dugong the blacks would come rushing into the sea to meet us
and drag our craft ashore, delighted at the prospect of a great feast.
The only part of the dugong I preserved was the belly, which I cut up
into strips and dried.

The blacks never allowed their fires to go out, and whenever they moved
their camping-ground, the women-folk always took with them their
smouldering fire-sticks, with which they can kindle a blaze in a few
minutes.  Very rarely, indeed, did the women allow their fire-sticks to
go out altogether, for this would entail a cruel and severe punishment.  A
fire-stick would keep alight in a smouldering state for days.  All that
the women did when they wanted to make it glow was to whirl it round in
the air.  The wives bore ill-usage with the most extraordinary
equanimity, and never attempted to parry even the most savage blow.  They
would remain meek and motionless under a shower of brutal blows from a
thick stick, and would then walk quietly away and treat their bleeding
wounds with a kind of earth.  No matter how cruelly the women might be
treated by their husbands, they hated sympathy, so their women friends
always left them alone.  It often surprised me how quickly the blacks'
most terrible wounds healed; and yet they were only treated with a kind
of clay and leaves of the wild rose.

I am here reminded of the native doctor.  This functionary was called a
_rui_, and he effected most of his cures with a little shell, with which
he rubbed assiduously upon the affected part.  Thus it will be seen that
the medical treatment was a form of massage, the rubbing being done first
in a downward direction and then crosswise.  I must say, however, that
the blacks were very rarely troubled with illness, their most frequent
disorder being usually the result of excessive gorging when a
particularly ample supply of food was forthcoming--say, after a big
_battue_ over a tribal preserve.

In an ordinary case of overfeeding, the medicine man would rub his
patient's stomach with such vigour as often to draw blood.  He would also
give the sufferer a kind of grass to eat, and this herb, besides clearing
the system, also acted as a most marvellous appetiser.  The capacity of
some of my blacks was almost beyond belief.  One giant I have in my mind
ate a whole kangaroo by himself.  I saw him do it.  Certainly it was not
an excessively big animal, but, still, it was a meal large enough for
three or four stalwart men.

In a case of fever the natives resorted to charms to drive away the evil
spirit that was supposed to be troubling the patient.  The universal
superstition about all maladies is that they are caused by the "evil
eye," directed against the sufferer by some enemy.  Should one member of
a tribe be stricken down with a disease, his friends at once come to the
conclusion that he has been "pointed at" by a member of another tribe who
owed him a grudge; he has, in short, been bewitched, and an expedition is
promptly organised to seek out and punish the individual in question and
all his tribe.  From this it is obvious that war is of pretty frequent
occurrence.  And not only so, but every death is likewise the signal for
a tribal war.  There is no verdict of "Death from natural causes."
Punitive expeditions are not organised in the event of slight fevers or
even serious illness--only when the patient dies.  A tribe I once came
across some miles inland were visited by a plague of what I now feel sure
must have been smallpox.  The disease, they said, had been brought down
from the coast, and although numbers of the blacks died, war was not
declared against any particular tribe.  As a rule, the body of the dead
brave is placed upon a platform erected in the forks of trees, and his
weapons neatly arranged below.  Then, as decay set in, and the body began
to crumble away, the friends and chiefs would come and observe certain
mystic signs, which were supposed to give information as to what tribe or
individual had caused the death of the deceased.

It must have been within a month of my landing on Yamba's country, in
Cambridge Gulf, that I witnessed my first cannibal feast.  One of the
fighting-men had died in our camp, and after the usual observations had
been taken, it was decided that he had been pointed at, and his death
brought about, by a member of another tribe living some distance away.  An
expedition of some hundreds of warriors was at once fitted out.  The
enemy was apparently only too ready for the fray, because the armies
promptly met in an open plain, and I had an opportunity of witnessing the
extraordinary method by which the Australian blacks wage war.  One of the
most redoubtable of our chiefs stepped forward, and explained the reason
of his people's visit in comparatively calm tones.  An opposing chief
replied to him, and gradually a heated altercation arose, the abuse
rising on a crescendo scale for ten or fifteen minutes.  These two then
retired, and another couple of champion abusers stepped forward to
"discuss" the matter.  This kind of thing went on for a considerable
time, the abuse being of the most appalling description, and directed
mainly against the organs of the enemy's body (heart, liver, &c.), his
ancestors, "his ox, his ass, and everything that was his."  At length,
when every conceivable thing had been said that it was possible to say,
the warriors drew near, and at last some one threw a spear.  This, of
course, was the signal for real action, and in a few minutes the
engagement became general.  There was no strategy or tactics of any kind,
every man fighting single-handed.

But to return to the battle I was describing.  After a very few minutes'
fighting the enemy were utterly routed, and promptly turned tail and fled
from the scene of the encounter, leaving behind them--after all the
uproar and the flood of vilification--only three of their warriors, and
these not dead, but only more or less badly wounded.  Quarter being
neither given nor expected in these battles, the three prostrate blacks
were promptly despatched by the leader of my tribe, the _coup de grace_
being given with a waddy, or knobbed stick.  The three bodies were then
placed on litters made out of spears and grass, and in due time carried
into our own camp.

There were so many unmistakable signs to presage what was coming that I
_knew_ a cannibal feast was about to take place.  But for obvious reasons
I did not protest against it, nor did I take any notice whatever.  The
women (who do all the real work) fell on their knees, and with their
fingers scraped three long trenches in the sand, each about seven feet
long and three deep.  Into each of these ovens was placed one of the
bodies of the fallen warriors, and then the trench was filled up--firstly
with stones, and then with sand.  On top of all a huge fire was built,
and maintained with great fierceness for about two hours.  There was
great rejoicing during this period of cooking, and apparently much
pleasurable anticipation among the triumphant blacks.  In due time the
signal was given, and the ovens laid open once more.  I looked in and saw
that the bodies were very much burnt.  The skin was cracked in places and
liquid fat was issuing forth. . . . But, perhaps, the less said about
this horrible spectacle the better.  With a yell, several warriors leaped
into each trench and stuck spears through the big "joints."  And the
moment the roasted carcasses were taken out of the trenches the whole
tribe literally fell upon them and tore them limb from limb.  I saw
mothers with a leg or an arm surrounded by plaintive children, who were
crying for their portion of the fearsome dainty.

Others, who were considered to have taken more than their share, were
likewise fallen upon and their "joint" subdivided and hacked to pieces
with knives made from shells.  The bodies were not cooked all through, so
that the condition of some of the revellers, both during and after the
orgy, may best be left to the imagination.  A more appalling, more
ghastly, or more truly sickening spectacle it is impossible for the mind
of man to conceive.  A great _corroboree_ was held after the feast, but,
with my gorge rising and my brain reeling, I crept to my own humpy and
tried to shut out from my mind the shocking inferno I had just been
compelled to witness.

But let us leave so fearful a subject and consider something more
interesting and amusing.




CHAPTER VI


A weird duel--The tragedy of the baby whale--My boat is destroyed--A ten
miles' swim--Gigantic prizes--Swimming in the whale's head--I make use of
the visitors--A fight with an alligator--The old craving--Bitter
disappointment--My mysterious "flying spears"--Dog-like fidelity--I
present my "card"--The desert of red sand.

The women of the tribe lived amicably enough together as a rule, but of
course they had their differences.  They would quarrel about the merits
and demerits of their own families and countries; but the greatest source
of heartburning and trouble was the importation of a new wife--especially
if she chanced to be better looking than the others.  In such cases, woe
to the comparatively pretty wife.  The women certainly had a novel way of
settling their differences.  The two combatants would retire to some
little distance, armed with _one stick between them_.  They would then
stand face to face, and one would bend forward meekly, whilst the other
dealt her a truly terrific blow between the shoulders or on the head--not
with a cane or a light stick, be it remembered, but a really formidable
club.  The blow (which would be enough to kill an ordinary white woman)
would be borne with wonderful fortitude, and then the aggressor would
hand the club to the woman she had just struck.

The latter would then take a turn; and so it would go on, turn and turn
about, until one of the unfortunate, stoical creatures fell bleeding and
half-senseless to the earth.  The thing was magnificently simple.  The
woman who kept her senses longest, and remained on her legs to the end,
was the victor.  There was no kind of ill-feeling after these
extraordinary combats, and the women would even dress one another's
wounds.

I now come to an event of very great importance in my life.  Elsewhere I
have spoken of my _penchant_ for dugong hunting.  Well, one day this
sport effectually put an end to all my prospects of reaching civilisation
across the sea.  I went forth one morning, accompanied by my
ever-faithful Yamba and the usual admiring crowd of blacks.  In a few
minutes we two were speeding over the sunlit waters, my only weapon being
the steel harpoon I had brought with me from the island, and about forty
or fifty feet of manilla rope.  When we were some miles from land I
noticed a dark-looking object on the surface of the water a little way
ahead.  Feeling certain it was a dugong feeding on the well-known
"grass," I rose and hurled my harpoon at it with all the force I could
muster.  Next moment, to my amazement, the head of a calf whale was
thrust agonisingly into the air, and not until then did I realise what
manner of creature it was I had struck.  This baby whale was about
fifteen feet long, and it "sounded" immediately on receiving my harpoon.
As I had enough rope, or what I considered enough, I did not cut him
adrift.  He came up again presently, lashing the water with his tail, and
creating a tremendous uproar, considering his size.  He then darted off
madly, dashing through the water like an arrow, and dragging our boat at
such a tremendous pace as almost to swamp us in the foaming wash, the bow
wave forming a kind of wall on each side.

Up to this time I had no thought of danger, but just as the baby whale
halted I looked round, and saw to my horror that its colossal mother had
joined her offspring, and was swimming round and round it like lightning,
apparently greatly disturbed by its sufferings.  Before I could even cut
the line or attempt to get out of the way, the enormous creature caught
sight of our little craft, and bore down upon us like a fair-sized island
rushing through the sea with the speed of an express train.  I shouted to
Yamba, and we both threw ourselves over the side into the now raging
waters, and commenced to swim away with long strokes, in order to get as
far as possible from the boat before the catastrophe came which we knew
was at hand.  We had not got many yards before I heard a terrific crash,
and, looking back, I saw the enormous tail of the great whale towering
high out of the water, and my precious boat descending in fragments upon
it from a height of from fifteen feet to twenty feet above the agitated
waters.  Oddly enough, the fore-part of the boat remained fixed to the
rope of the harpoon in the calf.  My first thought, even at so terrible a
moment, and in so serious a situation, was one of bitter regret for the
loss of what I considered the only means of reaching civilisation.  Like
a flash it came back to me how many weary months of toil and hope and
expectancy I had spent over that darling craft; and I remembered, too,
the delirious joy of launching it, and the appalling dismay that struck
me when I realised that it was worse than useless to me in the inclosed
lagoon.  These thoughts passed through my mind in a few seconds.

At this time we had a swim of some _ten miles_ before us, but fortunately
our predicament was observed from the land, and a crowd of blacks put out
in their catamarans to help us.  Some of the blacks, as I hinted before,
always accompanied me down to the shore on these trips.  They never
tired, I think, of seeing me handle my giant "catamaran" and the (to
them) mysterious harpoon.

After the mother whale had wreaked its vengeance upon my unfortunate boat
it rejoined its little one, and still continued to swim round and round
it at prodigious speed, evidently in a perfect agony of concern.
Fortunately the tide was in our favour, and we were rapidly swept
inshore, even when we floated listlessly on the surface of the water.  The
sea was quite calm, and we had no fear of sharks, being well aware that
we would keep them away by splashing in the water.

Before long, the catamarans came up with us, but although deeply grateful
for Yamba's and my own safety, I was still greatly distressed at the loss
of my boat.  Never once did this thought leave my mind.  I remembered,
too, with a pang, that I had now no tools with which to build another;
and to venture out into the open sea on a catamaran, probably for weeks,
simply meant courting certain destruction.  I was a greater prisoner than
ever.

My harpoon had evidently inflicted a mortal wound on the calf whale,
because as we looked we saw it lying exhausted on the surface of the
water, and being gradually swept nearer and nearer the shore by the swift-
flowing tide.  The mother refused to leave her little one however, and
still continued to wheel round it continuously, even when it had reached
dangerously shallow water.

The result was that when the tide turned, both the mother and her calf
were left stranded high and dry on the beach, to the unbounded delight
and amazement of the natives, who swarmed round the leviathans, and set
up such a terrific uproar, that I verily believe they frightened the
mother to death.  In her dying struggle she lashed the water into a
perfect fury with her tail, and even made attempts to lift herself bodily
up.  Furious smoke-signals were at once sent up to summon all the tribes
in the surrounding country--enemies as well as friends.  Next day the
carcasses were washed farther still inshore--a thing for which the blacks
gave me additional credit.

I ought to mention here that the loss of my boat was in some measure
compensated for by the enormous amount of prestige which accrued to me
through this whale episode.  To cut a long story short, the natives fully
believed that _I had killed single-handed and brought ashore both
whales_!  And in the _corroborees_ that ensued, the poets almost went
delirious in trying to find suitable eulogiums to bestow upon the mighty
white hunter.  The mother whale surpassed in size any I had ever seen or
read about.  I measured her length by pacing, and I judged it to be
nearly 150 feet.  My measurements may not have been absolutely accurate,
but still the whale was, I imagine, of record size.  As she lay there on
the beach her head towered above me to a height of nearly fifteen feet.
Never can I forget the scene that followed, when the blacks from the
surrounding country responded to the smoke-signals announcing the capture
of the "great fish."  From hundreds of miles south came the natives,
literally in their thousands--every man provided with his stone tomahawk
and a whole armoury of shell knives.  They simply swarmed over the
carcasses like vermin, and I saw many of them staggering away under solid
lumps of flesh weighing between thirty and forty pounds.  The children
also took part in the general feasting, and they too swarmed about the
whales like a plague of ants.

A particularly enterprising party of blacks cut an enormous hole in the
head of the big whale, and in the bath of oil that was inside they simply
wallowed for hours at a time, only to emerge in a condition that filled
me with disgust.  There was no question of priority or disputing as to
whom the tit-bits of the whale should go.  Even the visitors were quite
at liberty to take whatever portion they could secure.  For about a
fortnight this cutting-up and gorging went on, but long before this the
stench from the decomposing carcasses was so horrible as to be painfully
noticeable at my camp, over a mile away.  Some of the flesh was cooked,
but most of it was eaten absolutely raw.  The spectacle witnessed on the
beach would have been intensely comical were it not so revolting.  Many
of the savages, both men and women, had gorged themselves to such an
extent as to be absolutely unable to walk; and they rolled about on the
sand, tearing at the ground in agony, their stomachs distended in the
most extraordinary and disgusting manner.  It may amuse you to know that
smoke-signals were at once sent up for all the "doctors" in the country,
and these ministering angels could presently be seen with their massage
shells, rubbing the distended stomachs of the sufferers as they lay on
the beach.  I saw some men fairly howling with agony, but yet still
devouring enormous quantities of oil and blubber!  Besides the massage
treatment (with the thumbs as well as shells), the "doctors" administered
a kind of pill, or pellet, of some green leaf, which they first chewed in
their own mouth and then placed in that of the patient.  So magical was
this potent herb in its action, that I feel sure it would make the
fortune of an enterprising syndicate.  Other patients, who had obtained
temporary relief through the kind offices of the medicine-men, returned
to the whales again, and had another enormous gorge.  In fact, the blacks
behaved more like wild beasts of the lowest order than men, and in a very
short time--considering the enormous bulk of the whales--nothing remained
except the immense bones.

On the other hand, the orgie had its uses from my point of view, because
I took advantage of the arrival of so many strange tribes to make myself
acquainted with their chiefs, their languages, and their manners and
customs, in the hope that these people might be useful to me some day
when I commenced my journey overland to civilisation.  For, of course,
all hope of escape by sea had now to be abandoned, since my boat was
destroyed.  Several days elapsed, however, before I was able to remain in
their presence without a feeling of utter disgust.  To be precise, I
could not talk to them before they ate, because they were so anxious to
get at the food; and after the feast they were too gorged with fat to be
able to talk rationally.  In all my wanderings amongst the blacks I never
came across anything that interested them so much as a whale.

Soon after the loss of the boat, Yamba made me a small bark canoe about
fifteen feet long, but not more than fourteen inches wide, and in this we
undertook various little excursions together to the various islands that
studded the bay.  The construction of this little canoe was very
interesting.  Yamba, first of all, heated the bark, and then turned the
rough part underneath in order that the interior might be perfectly
smooth.  She then _sewed_ up the ends, finally giving the little craft a
coat of resin, obtained by making incisions in the gum-trees.  Of course,
I missed my own substantial boat, and it was some little time before I
grew accustomed to the frail canoe, which necessitated the greatest
possible care in handling, and also on the part of the passengers
generally.

One day I decided to go and explore one of the islands that studded
Cambridge Gulf, in search of a kind of shell mud-fish which I was very
partial to.  I also wanted to make the acquaintance of the bats or flying
foxes I had seen rising in clouds every evening at sunset.  I required
the skins of these curious creatures for sandals.  This would perhaps be
a year after my advent amongst the blacks.  As usual, Yamba was my only
companion, and we soon reached a likely island.  As I could find no
suitable place for landing, I turned the canoe up a small creek.  From
this course, however, my companion strongly dissuaded me.  Into the
creek, nevertheless, we went, and when I saw it was a hopeless _impasse_,
I scrambled ashore and waded through five inches or six inches of mud.
The little island was densely covered with luxuriant tropical vegetation,
the mangroves coming right down to the water's edge; so that I had
actually to force my way through them to gain the top of the bank.  I
then entered a very narrow track through the forest, the bush on both
sides being so dense as to resemble an impenetrable wall or dense hedge.
It is necessary to bear this in mind to realise what followed.  I had not
gone many yards along this track, when I was horrified to see, right in
front of me, an enormous alligator!  This great reptile was shuffling
along down the path towards me, evidently making for the water, and it
not only blocked my advance, but also necessitated my immediate retreat.
The moment the brute caught sight of me he stopped, and began snapping
his jaws viciously.  I confess I was quite nonplussed for the moment as
to how best to commence the attack upon this unexpected visitor.  It was
impossible for me to get round him in any way, on account of the dense
bush on either side of the narrow forest track.  I decided, however, to
make a bold dash for victory, having always in mind the prestige that was
so necessary to my existence among the blacks.  I therefore walked
straight up to the evil-looking monster; then, taking a short run, I
leaped high into the air, shot over his head, and landed on his scaly
back, at the same time giving a tremendous yell in order to attract
Yamba, whom I had left in charge of the boat.

The moment I landed on his back I struck the alligator with all my force
with my tomahawk, on what I considered the most vulnerable part of his
head.  So powerful was my stroke, that I found to my dismay that I could
not get the weapon out of his head again.  While I was in this
extraordinary situation--standing on the back of an enormous alligator,
and tugging at my tomahawk, embedded in its head--Yamba came rushing up
the path, carrying one of the paddles, which, without a moment's
hesitation, she thrust down the alligator's throat as he turned to snap
at her.  She immediately let go her hold and retreated.  The alligator
tried to follow her, but the shaft of the paddle caught among some tree
trunks and stuck.  In this way the monster was prevented from moving his
head, either backwards or forwards, and then, drawing my stiletto, I
blinded him in both eyes, afterwards finishing him leisurely with my
tomahawk, when at length I managed to release it.  Yamba was immensely
proud of me after this achievement, and when we returned to the mainland
she gave her tribesmen a graphic account of my gallantry and bravery.  But
she always did this.  She was my advance agent and bill-poster, so to
say.  I found in going into a new country that my fame had preceded me;
and I must say this was most convenient and useful in obtaining
hospitality, concessions, and assistance generally.  The part I had
played in connection with the death of the two whales had already earned
for me the admiration of the blacks--not only in my own tribe, but all
over the adjacent country.  And after this encounter with the alligator
they looked upon me as a very great and powerful personage indeed.  We
did not bring the dead monster back with us, but next day a number of the
blacks went over with their catamarans, and towed the reptile back to the
mainland, where it was viewed with open-mouthed amazement by crowds of
admiring natives.  So great was the estimation in which my prowess was
held, that little scraps of the dead alligator were distributed (as
relics, presumably) among the tribes throughout the whole of the
surrounding country.  Singularly enough this last achievement of mine was
considered much more commendable than the killing of the whale, for the
simple reason that it sometimes happened they caught a whale themselves
stranded on the beach; whereas the killing of an alligator with their
primitive weapons was a feat never attempted.  They chanted praises in my
honour at night, and wherever I moved, my performances with the whales
and alligator were always the first things to be sung.  Nor did I attempt
to depreciate my achievements; on the contrary, I exaggerated the facts
as much as I possibly could.  I described to them how I had fought and
killed the whale with my stiletto in spite of the fact that the monster
had smashed my boat.  I told them that I was not afraid of facing
anything single-handed, and I even went so far as to allege that I was
good enough to go out against a nation!  My whole object was to impress
these people with my imaginary greatness, and I constantly made them
marvel at my prowess with the bow and arrow.  The fact of my being able
to bring down a bird on the wing was nothing more nor less than a miracle
to them.  I was given the name of "Winnimah" by these people, because my
arrows sped like lightning.  Six of the alligator's teeth I took for
myself, and made them into a circlet which I wore round my head.

Some little time after this incident I decided to remove my
dwelling-place to the top of a headland on the other side of the bay,
some twenty miles away, where I thought I could more readily discern any
sail passing by out at sea.  The blacks themselves, who were well aware
of my hopes of getting back to my own people, had themselves suggested
that I might find this a more likely place for the purpose than the low-
lying coast on which their tribe was then encamped.  They also pointed
out to me, however, that I should find it cold living in so exposed a
position.  But the hope of seeing passing sails decided me, and one
morning I took my departure, the whole nation of blacks coming out in
full force to bid us adieu.  I think the last thing they impressed upon
me, in their peculiar native way, was that they would always be delighted
and honoured to welcome me back among them.  Yamba, of course,
accompanied me, as also did my dog, and we were escorted across the bay
by a host of my native friends in their catamarans.  I pitched upon a
fine bold spot for our dwelling-place, but the blacks assured me that we
would find it uncomfortably cold and windy, to say nothing about the
loneliness, which I could not but feel after so much intercourse with the
friendly natives.  I persisted, however, and we at length pitched our
encampment, on the bleak headland, which I now know to be Cape
Londonderry, the highest northern point of Western Australia.
Occasionally some of our black friends would pay us a visit, but we could
never induce them to locate their village near us.

Day after day, day after day, I gazed wistfully over the sea for hours at
a time, without ever seeing a sail, and at last I began to grow somewhat
despondent, and sighed for the companionship of my black friends once
more.  Yamba was unremitting in her endeavours to make life pleasant for
me and keep me well supplied with the best of food; but I could see that
she, too, did not like living on this exposed and desolate spot.  So,
after a few weeks' experience of life there, I decided to return to my
bay home, and later on make preparations for a journey overland to a
point on the Australian coast, where I learned ships quite frequently
passed.  The point in question was Somerset Point, at the extreme north
of the Cape York peninsula; and I had learnt of its existence from Jensen
when we were pearl-fishing.  The blacks were delighted to see me on my
return, and I remained with them several months before attempting my next
journey.  They were keenly anxious that I should join them in their
fighting expeditions, but I always declined, on the ground that I was not
a fighting man.  The fact of the matter was, that I could never hope to
throw a spear with anything like the dexterity they themselves possessed;
and as spears were the principal weapons used in warfare, I was afraid I
would not show up well at a critical moment.  Moreover, the warriors
defended themselves so dexterously with shields as to be all but
invulnerable, whereas I had not the slightest idea of how to handle a
shield.  And for the sake of my ever-indispensable prestige, I could not
afford to make myself ridiculous in their eyes.  I always took good care
to let the blacks see me performing only those feats which I felt morally
certain I could accomplish, and accomplish to their amazement.

So far I had won laurels enough with my mysterious arrows or "flying
spears," as the natives considered them, and my prowess with the harpoon
and tomahawk was sung in many tribes.  And not the least awkward thing
about my position was that I dared not even attempt a little quiet
practice in spear-throwing, for fear the blacks should come upon me
suddenly, when I would most certainly lose caste.  I had several narrow
escapes from this serious calamity, but most of them cannot be published
here.  I must tell you, though, that the blacks, when drinking at a river
or water-hole, invariably scoop up the water with their hands, and never
put their mouths right down close to the surface of the water.  Well, one
day I was guilty of this solecism.  I had been out on a hunting
expedition, and reached the water-hole with an intense burning thirst.  My
mentor was not with me.  I fell on my knees and fairly buried my face in
the life-giving fluid.  Suddenly I heard murmurs behind me.  I turned
presently and saw a party of my blacks regarding me with horror.  They
said I drank like a kangaroo.  But Yamba soon came to the rescue, and
explained away the dreadful breach of etiquette, by telling them that I
was not drinking, but simply cooling my face; when we were alone she
solemnly cautioned me never to do it again.

The months passed slowly away, and I was still living the same monotonous
life among my blacks--accompanying them upon their hunting expeditions,
joining in their sports, and making periodical trips inland with Yamba,
in preparation for the great journey I proposed to make overland to Cape
York.  When I spoke to my devoted companion about my plans, she told me
she was ready to accompany me wherever I went--to leave her people and to
be for ever by my side.  Right well I knew that she would unhesitatingly
do these things.  Her dog-like fidelity to me never wavered, and I know
she would have laid down her life for me at any time.

Often I told her of my own home beyond the seas, and when I asked her
whether she would come with me, she would reply, "Your people are my
people, and your God (spirit) my God.  I will go with you wherever you
take me."

At length everything was ready, and I paid a final farewell, as I
thought, to my black friends in Cambridge Gulf, after a little over
eighteen months' residence among them.  They knew I was venturing on a
long journey overland to another part of the country many moons distant,
in the hope of being able to get into touch with my own people; and
though they realised they should never see me again, they thought my
departure a very natural thing.  The night before we left, a great
_corroboree_ was held in my honour.  We had a very affectionate leave-
taking, and a body of the natives escorted us for the first 100 miles or
so of our trip.  At last, however, Yamba, myself, and the faithful dog
were left to continue our wanderings alone.  The reliance I placed upon
this woman by the way was absolute and unquestioning.  I knew that alone
I could not live a day in the awful wilderness through which we were to
pass; nor could any solitary white man.  By this time, however, I had had
innumerable demonstrations of Yamba's almost miraculous powers in the way
of providing food and water when, to the ordinary eye, neither was
forthcoming.  I should have mentioned that before leaving my black people
I had provided myself with what I may term a native passport--a kind of
Masonic mystic stick, inscribed with certain cabalistic characters.  Every
chief carried one of these sticks.  I carried mine in my long, luxuriant
hair, which I wore "bun" fashion, held in a net of opossum hair.  This
passport stick proved invaluable as a means of putting us on good terms
with the different tribes we encountered.  The chiefs of the blacks never
ventured out of their own country without one of these mysterious sticks,
neither did the native message-bearers.  I am sure I should not have been
able to travel far without mine.

Whenever I encountered a strange tribe I always asked to be taken before
the chief, and when in his presence I presented my little stick, he would
at once manifest the greatest friendliness, and offer us food and drink.
Then, before I took my departure, he also would inscribe his sign upon
the message stick, handing it back to me and probably sending me on to
another tribe with an escort.  It often happened, however, that I was
personally introduced to another tribe whose "frontier" joined that of my
late hosts, and in such cases my passport was unnecessary.

At first the country through which our wanderings led us was hilly and
well wooded, the trees being particularly fine, many of them towering up
to a height of 150 feet or 200 feet.  Our principal food consisted of
roots, rats, snakes, opossum, and kangaroo.  The physical conditions of
the country were constantly changing as we moved farther eastward, and
Yamba's ingenuity was often sorely taxed to detect the whereabouts of the
various roots necessary for food.  It was obviously unfair to expect her
to be familiar with the flora and fauna of every part of the great
Australian Continent.  Sometimes she was absolutely nonplused, and had to
stay a few days with a tribe until the women initiated her into the best
methods of cooking the roots of the country.  And often we could not
understand the language.  In such cases, though, when spoken words were
unlike those uttered in Yamba's country, we resorted to a wonderful sign-
language which appears to be general among the Australian blacks.  All
that Yamba carried was a basket made of bark, slung over her shoulder,
and containing a variety of useful things, including some needles made
out of the bones of birds and fish; a couple of light grinding-stones for
crushing out of its shell a very sustaining kind of nut found on the palm
trees, &c.  Day after day we walked steadily on in an easterly direction,
guiding ourselves in the daytime by the sun, and in the evening by
opossum scratches on trees and the positions of the ant-hills, which are
always built facing the east.  We crossed many creeks and rivers,
sometimes wading and at others time swimming.

Gradually we left the hilly country behind, and after about five or six
weeks' tramping got into an extraordinary desert of red sand, which gave
off a dust from our very tracks that nearly suffocated us.  Each water-
hole we came across now began to contain less and less of the precious
liquid, and our daily _menu_ grew more and more scanty, until at length
we were compelled to live on practically nothing but a few roots and
stray rats.  Still we plodded on, finally striking a terrible spinifex
country, which was inconceivably worse than anything we had hitherto
encountered.  In order to make our way through this spinifex (the
terrible "porcupine grass" of the Australian interior), we were bound to
follow the tracks made by kangaroos or natives, otherwise we should have
made no progress whatever.  These tracks at times wandered about zigzag
fashion, and led us considerable distances out of our course, but, all
the same, we dare not leave them.  Not only was water all but
unobtainable here, but our skin was torn with thorns at almost every
step.  Yamba was terribly troubled when she found she could no longer
provide for my wants.  Fortunately the dew fell heavily at night, and a
sufficient quantity would collect on the foliage to refresh me somewhat
in the morning.  How eagerly would I lick the precious drops from the
leaves!  Curiously enough, Yamba herself up to this time did not seem
distressed from lack of water; but nothing about this marvellous woman
surprised me.  It took us about ten days to pass through the awful
spinifex desert, and for at least eight days of that period we were
virtually without water, tramping through never-ending tracts of scrub,
prickly grass, and undulating sand-hills of a reddish colour.  Often and
often I blamed myself bitterly for ever going into that frightful country
at all.  Had I known beforehand that it was totally uninhabited I
certainly should not have ventured into it.  We were still going due
east, but in consequence of the lack of water-holes, my heroic guide
thought it advisable to strike a little more north.




CHAPTER VII


The agonies of thirst--A ghastly drink--I ask Yamba to kill me--My
ministering angel--How Yamba caught opossum--The water witch--A barometer
of snakes--The coming deluge--The plunge into the Rapids--A waste of
waters--A fearful situation--Barking alligators--English-speaking
natives--A ship at last--I abandon hope--The deserted settlement.

By this time I began to feel quite delirious; I fear I was like a baby in
Yamba's hands.  She knew that all I wanted was water, and became almost
distracted when she could not find any for me.  Of herself she never
thought.  And yet she was full of strange resources and devices.  When I
moaned aloud in an agony of thirst, she would give me some kind of grass
to chew; and although this possessed no real moisture, yet it promoted
the flow of saliva, and thus slightly relieved me.

Things grew worse and worse, however, and the delirium increased.  Hour
after hour--through the endless nights would that devoted creature sit by
my side, moistening my lips with the dew that collected on the grass.  On
the fifth day without water I suffered the most shocking agonies, and in
my lucid moments gave myself up for lost.  I could neither stand nor
walk, speak nor swallow.  My throat seemed to be almost closed up, and
when I opened my eyes everything appeared to be going round and round in
the most dizzy and sickening manner.  My heart beat with choking
violence, and my head ached, so that I thought I was going mad.  My
bloodshot eyes (so Yamba subsequently told me) projected from their
sockets in the most terrifying manner, and a horrible indescribable
longing possessed me to kill my faithful Bruno, in order to drink his
blood.  My poor Bruno!  As I write these humble lines, so lacking in
literary grace, I fancy I can see him lying by my side in that glaring,
illimitable wilderness, his poor, dry tongue lolling out, and his piteous
brown eyes fixed upon me with an expression of mute appeal that added to
my agony.  The only thing that kept him from collapsing altogether was
the blood of some animal which Yamba might succeed in killing.

Gradually I grew weaker and weaker, and at last feeling the end was near,
I crawled under the first tree I came across--never for a moment giving a
thought as to its species,--and prepared to meet the death I now
fervently desired.  Had Yamba, too, given up, these lines would never
have been written.  Amazing to relate, she kept comparatively well and
active, though without water; and in my most violent paroxysm she would
pounce upon a lizard or a rat, and give me its warm blood to drink, while
yet it lived.  Then she would masticate a piece of iguana flesh and give
it to me in my mouth, but I was quite unable to swallow it, greatly to
her disappointment.  She must have seen that I was slowly sinking, for at
last she stooped down and whispered earnestly in my ear that she would
leave me for a little while, and go off in search of water.  Like a dream
it comes back to me how she explained that she had seen some birds
passing overhead, and that if she followed in the same direction she was
almost certain to reach water sooner or later.

I could not reply; but I felt it was a truly hopeless enterprise on her
part.  And as I did not want her to leave me, I remember I held out my
tomahawk feebly towards her, and signed to her to come and strike me on
the head with it and so put an end to my dreadful agonies.  The heroic
creature only smiled and shook her head emphatically.  She took the
proffered weapon, however, and after putting some distinguishing marks on
my tree with it, she hurled it some distance away from me.  She then
stooped and propped me against the trunk of the tree; and then leaving my
poor suffering dog to keep me company, she set out on her lonely search
with long, loping strides of amazing vigour.

It was late in the afternoon when she took her departure; and I lay there
hour after hour, sometimes frantically delirious, and at others in a
state of semi-consciousness, fancying she was by my sid

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