Chapter Thirty Eight.How the Doctor said “Thank You” in a very quiet Way.For some little time we did nothing but lie there blackened and half choked, blinded almost, listening to the sound that came up that rift, for the question now was whether the savages would know that we were there, or would attribute the roar to that of some fierce beast that their fire and smoke had destroyed.The voices came up in a confused gabble, and we felt that if the blacks came up the rift we could easily beat them back; but if they came round by some other way to the rocky patch of forest where we were, our state was so pitiable that we could offer no defence.Jimmy had been applying cool leaves to his legs for some minutes as we lay almost where we had thrown ourselves, seeming to want to do nothing but breathe the fresh air, when all at once he came to where the doctor and I now rested ourselves upon our elbows and were watching the smoke that came up gently now and rose right above the trees.“Jimmy no hurt now. Roast black fellow,” he said grinning. “Jimmy know powder go bang pop! down slow.”“Yes,” said the doctor. “I was trying to get that last canister when I was overcome by the smoke, and just managed to reach the bottom of the rift. Who was it saved me?”“Jimmy-Jimmy!” said the black proudly.“My brave fellow!” cried the doctor, catching the black’s hand.“Jimmy come ’long Mass Joe. Haul Mass doctor up. Mass doctor no wiggle Jimmy ’gain, eat much pig.”The doctor did not answer, for he had turned to me and taken my hand.“Did you come down, Joe?” he said softly.“Of course I did,” I replied quietly, though I felt very uncomfortable.“Thank you!” he said quietly, and then he turned away.“Black fellow hear powder bang,” said Jimmy, grinning. “Tink um big bunyip. All go way now.”I turned to him sharply, listening the while.“Yes: all go ’long. Tink bunyip. Kill um dead. No kill bunyip. Oh no!”There was the sound of voices, but they were more distant, and then they seemed to come up the rift in quite a broken whisper, and the next moment they had died away.“Safe, doctor!” I said, and we all breathed more freely than before.The blacks had gone. Evidently they believed that the occupant of the cave had expired in that final roar, and when we afterwards crept cautiously round after a détour the next morning, it was to find that the place was all open, and for fifty yards round the bushes and tree-ferns torn down and burned.The night of our escape we hardly turned from our positions, utterly exhausted as we were, and one by one we dropped asleep.When I woke first it was sometime in the night, and through the trees the great stars were glinting down, and as I lay piecing together the adventures of the past day I once more fell fast asleep to be awakened by Jimmy in the warm sunlight of a glorious morning.“All black fellow gone long way. Come kedge fis an fine ’nana.”I rose to my feet to see that the doctor was busy with his patient, who was none the worse for the troubles of the past day, and what was of more consequence, he was able to speak slowly and without running off into the native tongue.We went down to the stream, Jack Penny bearing us company, and were pretty fortunate in cutting off some good-sized fish which were sunning themselves in a shallow, and Ti-hi and his companions were no less successful in getting fruit, so that when we returned we were able to light a fire and enjoy a hearty meal.What I enjoyed the most, though, was a good lave in the clear cold water when we had a look at the mouth of the cave.The doctor came to the conclusion that where we were, shut-in by high shelving sand rocks, was as safe a spot as we could expect, the more so that the blacks were not likely to come again, so we made this our camp, waiting to recruit a little and to let the black village settle down before making any farther attempt. Beside this there was our new companion—William Francis he told us his name was, and that he had been ten years a prisoner among the blacks. Until he had recovered from the effect of his unlucky wound we could not travel far, and our flight when we rescued my father must necessarily be swift.It was terribly anxious work waiting day after day, but the doctor’s advice was good—that we must be content to exist without news for fear, in sending scouts about the village at night, we should alarm the enemy.“Better let them think there is no one at hand,” said the doctor, “and our task will be the easier.”So for a whole fortnight we waited, passing our time watching the bright scaled fish glance down the clear stream, or come up it in shoals; lying gazing at the brightly plumed birds that came and shrieked and climbed about the trees above our heads; while now and then we made cautious excursions into the open country in the direction opposite to the village, and fortunately without once encountering an enemy, but adding largely to our store of food, thanks to the bows and arrows of our friends.At last, one evening, after quietly talking to us sometime about the sufferings of himself and my father, Mr Francis declared himself strong enough to accompany our retreat.“The interest and excitement will keep me up,” he said; “and you must not wait longer for me. Besides, I shall get stronger every day, and—”He looked from me to the doctor and then back, and passed his hand across his forehead as if to clear away a mist, while, when he began to speak again, it was not in English, and he burst into tears.“Lie down and sleep,” the doctor said firmly; and, obedient as a child, the patient let his head sink upon the rough couch he occupied and closed his eyes.“It is as if as his body grew strong his mental powers weakened,” said the doctor to me as soon as we were out of hearing; “but we must wait and see.”Then we set to and once more talked over our plans, arranging that we would make our attempt next night, and after studying the compass and the position we occupied we came to the decision that we had better work round to the far side of the village, post Mr Francis and two of the blacks there, with our baggage, which was principally food; then make our venture, join them if successful, and go on in retreat at once.
For some little time we did nothing but lie there blackened and half choked, blinded almost, listening to the sound that came up that rift, for the question now was whether the savages would know that we were there, or would attribute the roar to that of some fierce beast that their fire and smoke had destroyed.
The voices came up in a confused gabble, and we felt that if the blacks came up the rift we could easily beat them back; but if they came round by some other way to the rocky patch of forest where we were, our state was so pitiable that we could offer no defence.
Jimmy had been applying cool leaves to his legs for some minutes as we lay almost where we had thrown ourselves, seeming to want to do nothing but breathe the fresh air, when all at once he came to where the doctor and I now rested ourselves upon our elbows and were watching the smoke that came up gently now and rose right above the trees.
“Jimmy no hurt now. Roast black fellow,” he said grinning. “Jimmy know powder go bang pop! down slow.”
“Yes,” said the doctor. “I was trying to get that last canister when I was overcome by the smoke, and just managed to reach the bottom of the rift. Who was it saved me?”
“Jimmy-Jimmy!” said the black proudly.
“My brave fellow!” cried the doctor, catching the black’s hand.
“Jimmy come ’long Mass Joe. Haul Mass doctor up. Mass doctor no wiggle Jimmy ’gain, eat much pig.”
The doctor did not answer, for he had turned to me and taken my hand.
“Did you come down, Joe?” he said softly.
“Of course I did,” I replied quietly, though I felt very uncomfortable.
“Thank you!” he said quietly, and then he turned away.
“Black fellow hear powder bang,” said Jimmy, grinning. “Tink um big bunyip. All go way now.”
I turned to him sharply, listening the while.
“Yes: all go ’long. Tink bunyip. Kill um dead. No kill bunyip. Oh no!”
There was the sound of voices, but they were more distant, and then they seemed to come up the rift in quite a broken whisper, and the next moment they had died away.
“Safe, doctor!” I said, and we all breathed more freely than before.
The blacks had gone. Evidently they believed that the occupant of the cave had expired in that final roar, and when we afterwards crept cautiously round after a détour the next morning, it was to find that the place was all open, and for fifty yards round the bushes and tree-ferns torn down and burned.
The night of our escape we hardly turned from our positions, utterly exhausted as we were, and one by one we dropped asleep.
When I woke first it was sometime in the night, and through the trees the great stars were glinting down, and as I lay piecing together the adventures of the past day I once more fell fast asleep to be awakened by Jimmy in the warm sunlight of a glorious morning.
“All black fellow gone long way. Come kedge fis an fine ’nana.”
I rose to my feet to see that the doctor was busy with his patient, who was none the worse for the troubles of the past day, and what was of more consequence, he was able to speak slowly and without running off into the native tongue.
We went down to the stream, Jack Penny bearing us company, and were pretty fortunate in cutting off some good-sized fish which were sunning themselves in a shallow, and Ti-hi and his companions were no less successful in getting fruit, so that when we returned we were able to light a fire and enjoy a hearty meal.
What I enjoyed the most, though, was a good lave in the clear cold water when we had a look at the mouth of the cave.
The doctor came to the conclusion that where we were, shut-in by high shelving sand rocks, was as safe a spot as we could expect, the more so that the blacks were not likely to come again, so we made this our camp, waiting to recruit a little and to let the black village settle down before making any farther attempt. Beside this there was our new companion—William Francis he told us his name was, and that he had been ten years a prisoner among the blacks. Until he had recovered from the effect of his unlucky wound we could not travel far, and our flight when we rescued my father must necessarily be swift.
It was terribly anxious work waiting day after day, but the doctor’s advice was good—that we must be content to exist without news for fear, in sending scouts about the village at night, we should alarm the enemy.
“Better let them think there is no one at hand,” said the doctor, “and our task will be the easier.”
So for a whole fortnight we waited, passing our time watching the bright scaled fish glance down the clear stream, or come up it in shoals; lying gazing at the brightly plumed birds that came and shrieked and climbed about the trees above our heads; while now and then we made cautious excursions into the open country in the direction opposite to the village, and fortunately without once encountering an enemy, but adding largely to our store of food, thanks to the bows and arrows of our friends.
At last, one evening, after quietly talking to us sometime about the sufferings of himself and my father, Mr Francis declared himself strong enough to accompany our retreat.
“The interest and excitement will keep me up,” he said; “and you must not wait longer for me. Besides, I shall get stronger every day, and—”
He looked from me to the doctor and then back, and passed his hand across his forehead as if to clear away a mist, while, when he began to speak again, it was not in English, and he burst into tears.
“Lie down and sleep,” the doctor said firmly; and, obedient as a child, the patient let his head sink upon the rough couch he occupied and closed his eyes.
“It is as if as his body grew strong his mental powers weakened,” said the doctor to me as soon as we were out of hearing; “but we must wait and see.”
Then we set to and once more talked over our plans, arranging that we would make our attempt next night, and after studying the compass and the position we occupied we came to the decision that we had better work round to the far side of the village, post Mr Francis and two of the blacks there, with our baggage, which was principally food; then make our venture, join them if successful, and go on in retreat at once.
Chapter Thirty Nine.How we took a last look round, and found it was time to go.That next evening seemed as it would never come, and I lay tossing feverishly from side to side vainly trying to obtain the rest my friend recommended.At last, though, the time came, and we were making our final preparations, when the doctor decided that we would just take a look round first by way of a scout.It was fortunate that we did, for just as it was growing dusk, after a good look round we were about to cross the rivulet, and go through the cavern and up the rift back into camp, when I caught the doctor’s arm without a word.He started and looked in the same direction as I did which was right down the gully, and saw what had taken my attention, namely, the stooping bodies of a couple of blacks hurrying away through the bushes at a pretty good rate.The doctor clapped his piece to his shoulder, and then dropped it once more.“No!” he said. “I might kill one, but the other would bear the news. Fortunately they are going the other way and not ours. Quick, my lad! let’s get back to camp and start.”“And they’ll come back with a lot of their warriors to attack us to-night and find us gone!”“And while they are gone, Joe, we will attack their place and carry off our prize!”“If we only could!” I cried fervently.“Noifs, Joe,” he said smiling; “wewill!”It did not take us many minutes to reach the mouth of the cave, and as we entered I looked round again, to catch sight of another black figure crouching far up the opposite bank, at the foot of a great tree.I did not speak, for it was better that the black should not think he had been seen, so followed the doctor into the cave, climbed the rift with him, and found all ready for the start.“Black fellow all ’bout over there way!” said Jimmy to me in a whisper.“How do you know?” I said quickly.“Jimmy smell am!” he replied seriously. “Jimmy go look ’bout. Smell um black fellow, one eye peeping round um trees.”“Yes, we have seen them too,” I said; and signing to him to follow, I found the doctor.“The sooner we are off the better!” he said. “Now, Mr Francis, do you think you can lead us to the other side of the village, round by the north? the enemy are on the watch.”Mr Francis turned his head without a word, and, leaning upon a stout stick, started at once; and we followed in silence, just as the stars were coming out.It seemed very strange calling this savage-looking being Mr Francis, but when talking with him during his recovery from his wound one only needed to turn one’s head to seem to be in conversation with a man who had never been from his civilised fellows.He went steadily on, the doctor next, and I followed the doctor; the rest of our little party gliding silently through the forest for quite three hours, when Mr Francis stopped, and it was decided to rest and refresh ourselves a little before proceeding farther.The doctor had settled to leave Mr Francis here, but he quietly objected to this.“No!” he said; “you want my help more now than ever. I am weak, but I can take you right to the hut where Carstairs is kept a prisoner. If you go alone you will lose time, and your expedition may—”He stopped short and lay down upon the earth for a few minutes, during which the doctor remained undecided. At last he bent down and whispered a few words to his patient, who immediately rose.Orders were then given to the blacks, who were to stay under the command of Jack Penny, and, followed by Jimmy, and leaving the rest of our party in the shade of an enormous tree, we set off once more.The excitement made the distance seem so short that I was astounded when a low murmur told us that we were close to the village, and, stepping more cautiously, we were soon close up behind a great hut.“This is the place,” whispered Mr Francis. “He is kept prisoner here, or else at the great hut on the other side. Hist! I’ll creep forward and listen.”He went down in a stooping position and disappeared, leaving us listening to the continuous talk of evidently a numerous party of the savages; and so like did it all seem to the last time, that no time might have elapsed since we crouched there, breathing heavily with excitement in the shade of the great trees that came close up to the huts.It was a painful time, for it seemed that all our schemes had been in vain, and that we might as well give up our task, unless we could come with so strong a body of followers that we could make a bold attack.I whispered once or twice to the doctor, but he laid his hand upon my lips. I turned to Jimmy, but he had crouched down, and was resting himself according to his habit.And so quite an hour passed away before we were aware by a slight rustle that Mr Francis was back, looming up out of the darkness like some giant, so strangely did the obscurity distort everything near at hand.“Here!” he said in a low voice; and bending down we all listened to his words, which came feebly, consequent upon his exertions.“I have been to the far hut and he is not there!” he whispered. “I came back to this and crept in unobserved. They are all talking about an expedition that has gone off to the back of the cave—to destroy us. Carstairs is in there, bound hand and foot.”“My poor father!” I moaned.“I spoke to him and told him help was near,” continued Mr Francis; “and then—”He muttered something in the savages’ tongue, and then broke down and began to sob.“Take no notice,” the doctor whispered to me, as I stood trembling there, feeling as I did that I was only a few yards from him we had come to save, and who was lying bound there waiting for the help that seemed as if it would never come.The doctor realised my feelings, for he came a little closer and pressed my hand.“Don’t be downhearted, my lad,” he whispered; “we are a long way nearer to our journey’s end than when we started.”“Yes!” I said; “but—”“But! Nonsense, boy! Why, we’ve found your father. We know where he is; and if we can’t get him away by stratagem, we’ll go to another tribe of the blacks, make friends with them, and get them to fight on our side.”“Nonsense, doctor!” I said bitterly. “You are only saying this to comfort me.”“To get you to act like a man,” he said sharply. “Shame upon you for being so ready to give up in face of a few obstacles!”I felt that the rebuke was deserved, and drew in my breath, trying to nerve myself to bear this new disappointment, and to set my brain at work scheming.It seemed to grow darker just then, the stars fading out behind a thick veil of clouds; and creeping nearer to the doctor I sat down beside where he knelt, listening to the incessant talking of the savages.We were not above half-a-dozen yards from the back of the great hut; and, now rising into quite an angry shout, now descending into a low buzz, the talk, talk, talk went on, as if they were saying the same things over and over again.I thought of my own captivity—of the way in which Gyp had come to me in the night, and wondered whether it would be possible to cut away a portion of the palm-leaf wall of the hut, and so get to the prisoner.And all this while the talking went on, rising and falling till it seemed almost maddening to hear.We must have waited there quite a couple of hours, and still there was no change. Though we could not see anything for the hut in front of us we could tell that there was a good deal of excitement in the village, consequent, the doctor whispered, upon the absence of a number of the blacks on the expedition against us.At last he crept from me to speak to Mr Francis.“It is of no use to stay longer, I’m afraid, my lad,” he whispered; “unless we wait and see whether the hut is left empty when the expedition party comes back, though I fear they will not come back till morning.”“What are you going to do, then?” I said.“Ask Francis to suggest a better hiding-place for us, where we can go to-night and wait for another opportunity.”I sighed, for I was weary of waiting for opportunities.“Fast asleep, poor fellow!” he whispered, coming back so silently that he startled me. “Where’s the black?”I turned sharply to where Jimmy had been curled up, but he was gone.I crept a little way in two or three directions, but he was not with us, and I said so.“How dare he go!” the doctor said angrily. “He will ruin our plans! What’s that?”“Gyp!” I said, as the dog crept up to us and thrust his head against my hand. “Jack Penny is getting anxious. It is a signal for us to come back.”“How do you know?”“We agreed upon it,” I said. “He was to send the dog in search of us if we did not join him in two hours; and if we were in trouble I was either to tie something to his collar or take it off.”“Do neither!” said the doctor quietly. “Look! they are lighting a fire. The others must have come back.”I turned and saw a faint glow away over the right corner of the hut; and then there was a shout, and the shrill cries of some women and children.In a moment there was a tremendous excitement in the hut before us, the savages swarming out like angry bees, and almost at the same moment the whole shape of the great long hut stood out against the sky.“The village is on fire!” whispered the doctor. “Back, my boy! Francis, quick!”He shook the sleeping man, whom all at once I could see, and he rose rather feebly. Then we backed slowly more and more in amongst the trees, seeing now that one of the light palm-leaf and bamboo huts was blazing furiously, and that another had caught fire, throwing up the cluster of slight buildings into clear relief, while as we backed farther and farther in amongst the trees we could see the blacks—men, women, and children—running to and fro as if wild.“Now would be the time,” said the doctor. “We might take advantage of the confusion and get your father away.”“Yes!” I cried excitedly. “I’m ready!”“Stop for your lives!” said a voice at our elbow, and turning I saw Mr Francis, with his swarthy face lit up by the fire. “You could not get near the hut now without being seen. If you had acted at the moment the alarm began you might have succeeded. It is now too late.”“No, no!” I cried. “Let us try.”“It is too late, I say,” cried Mr Francis firmly. “The village is on fire, and the blacks must see you. If you are taken now you will be killed without mercy.”“We must risk it,” I said excitedly, stepping forward.“And your father too.”I recoiled shuddering.“We must get away to a place of safety, hide for a few days, and then try again. I shall be stronger perhaps then, and can help.”“It is right,” said the doctor calmly. “Come, Joe. Patience!”I saw that he was right, for the fire was leaping from hut to hut, and there was a glow that lit up the forest far and wide. Had anyone come near we must have been seen, but the savages were all apparently congregated near the burning huts, while the great sparks and flakes of fire rose up and floated far away above the trees, glittering like stars in the ruddy glow.“Go on then,” I said, with a groan of disappointment, and Mr Francis took the lead once more, and, the doctor following, I was last.“But Jimmy!” I said. “We must not leave him behind.”“He will find us,” said the doctor. “Come along.”There was nothing for me to do but obey, so I followed reluctantly, the glow from the burning village being so great that the branches of the trees stood up clearly before us, and we had no difficulty in going on.I followed more reluctantly when I remembered Gyp, and chirruped to him, expecting to find him at my heels, but he was not there.“He has gone on in front,” I thought, and once more I tramped wearily on, when there was a rush and a bound and Gyp leaped up at me, catching my jacket in his teeth and shaking it hard.
That next evening seemed as it would never come, and I lay tossing feverishly from side to side vainly trying to obtain the rest my friend recommended.
At last, though, the time came, and we were making our final preparations, when the doctor decided that we would just take a look round first by way of a scout.
It was fortunate that we did, for just as it was growing dusk, after a good look round we were about to cross the rivulet, and go through the cavern and up the rift back into camp, when I caught the doctor’s arm without a word.
He started and looked in the same direction as I did which was right down the gully, and saw what had taken my attention, namely, the stooping bodies of a couple of blacks hurrying away through the bushes at a pretty good rate.
The doctor clapped his piece to his shoulder, and then dropped it once more.
“No!” he said. “I might kill one, but the other would bear the news. Fortunately they are going the other way and not ours. Quick, my lad! let’s get back to camp and start.”
“And they’ll come back with a lot of their warriors to attack us to-night and find us gone!”
“And while they are gone, Joe, we will attack their place and carry off our prize!”
“If we only could!” I cried fervently.
“Noifs, Joe,” he said smiling; “wewill!”
It did not take us many minutes to reach the mouth of the cave, and as we entered I looked round again, to catch sight of another black figure crouching far up the opposite bank, at the foot of a great tree.
I did not speak, for it was better that the black should not think he had been seen, so followed the doctor into the cave, climbed the rift with him, and found all ready for the start.
“Black fellow all ’bout over there way!” said Jimmy to me in a whisper.
“How do you know?” I said quickly.
“Jimmy smell am!” he replied seriously. “Jimmy go look ’bout. Smell um black fellow, one eye peeping round um trees.”
“Yes, we have seen them too,” I said; and signing to him to follow, I found the doctor.
“The sooner we are off the better!” he said. “Now, Mr Francis, do you think you can lead us to the other side of the village, round by the north? the enemy are on the watch.”
Mr Francis turned his head without a word, and, leaning upon a stout stick, started at once; and we followed in silence, just as the stars were coming out.
It seemed very strange calling this savage-looking being Mr Francis, but when talking with him during his recovery from his wound one only needed to turn one’s head to seem to be in conversation with a man who had never been from his civilised fellows.
He went steadily on, the doctor next, and I followed the doctor; the rest of our little party gliding silently through the forest for quite three hours, when Mr Francis stopped, and it was decided to rest and refresh ourselves a little before proceeding farther.
The doctor had settled to leave Mr Francis here, but he quietly objected to this.
“No!” he said; “you want my help more now than ever. I am weak, but I can take you right to the hut where Carstairs is kept a prisoner. If you go alone you will lose time, and your expedition may—”
He stopped short and lay down upon the earth for a few minutes, during which the doctor remained undecided. At last he bent down and whispered a few words to his patient, who immediately rose.
Orders were then given to the blacks, who were to stay under the command of Jack Penny, and, followed by Jimmy, and leaving the rest of our party in the shade of an enormous tree, we set off once more.
The excitement made the distance seem so short that I was astounded when a low murmur told us that we were close to the village, and, stepping more cautiously, we were soon close up behind a great hut.
“This is the place,” whispered Mr Francis. “He is kept prisoner here, or else at the great hut on the other side. Hist! I’ll creep forward and listen.”
He went down in a stooping position and disappeared, leaving us listening to the continuous talk of evidently a numerous party of the savages; and so like did it all seem to the last time, that no time might have elapsed since we crouched there, breathing heavily with excitement in the shade of the great trees that came close up to the huts.
It was a painful time, for it seemed that all our schemes had been in vain, and that we might as well give up our task, unless we could come with so strong a body of followers that we could make a bold attack.
I whispered once or twice to the doctor, but he laid his hand upon my lips. I turned to Jimmy, but he had crouched down, and was resting himself according to his habit.
And so quite an hour passed away before we were aware by a slight rustle that Mr Francis was back, looming up out of the darkness like some giant, so strangely did the obscurity distort everything near at hand.
“Here!” he said in a low voice; and bending down we all listened to his words, which came feebly, consequent upon his exertions.
“I have been to the far hut and he is not there!” he whispered. “I came back to this and crept in unobserved. They are all talking about an expedition that has gone off to the back of the cave—to destroy us. Carstairs is in there, bound hand and foot.”
“My poor father!” I moaned.
“I spoke to him and told him help was near,” continued Mr Francis; “and then—”
He muttered something in the savages’ tongue, and then broke down and began to sob.
“Take no notice,” the doctor whispered to me, as I stood trembling there, feeling as I did that I was only a few yards from him we had come to save, and who was lying bound there waiting for the help that seemed as if it would never come.
The doctor realised my feelings, for he came a little closer and pressed my hand.
“Don’t be downhearted, my lad,” he whispered; “we are a long way nearer to our journey’s end than when we started.”
“Yes!” I said; “but—”
“But! Nonsense, boy! Why, we’ve found your father. We know where he is; and if we can’t get him away by stratagem, we’ll go to another tribe of the blacks, make friends with them, and get them to fight on our side.”
“Nonsense, doctor!” I said bitterly. “You are only saying this to comfort me.”
“To get you to act like a man,” he said sharply. “Shame upon you for being so ready to give up in face of a few obstacles!”
I felt that the rebuke was deserved, and drew in my breath, trying to nerve myself to bear this new disappointment, and to set my brain at work scheming.
It seemed to grow darker just then, the stars fading out behind a thick veil of clouds; and creeping nearer to the doctor I sat down beside where he knelt, listening to the incessant talking of the savages.
We were not above half-a-dozen yards from the back of the great hut; and, now rising into quite an angry shout, now descending into a low buzz, the talk, talk, talk went on, as if they were saying the same things over and over again.
I thought of my own captivity—of the way in which Gyp had come to me in the night, and wondered whether it would be possible to cut away a portion of the palm-leaf wall of the hut, and so get to the prisoner.
And all this while the talking went on, rising and falling till it seemed almost maddening to hear.
We must have waited there quite a couple of hours, and still there was no change. Though we could not see anything for the hut in front of us we could tell that there was a good deal of excitement in the village, consequent, the doctor whispered, upon the absence of a number of the blacks on the expedition against us.
At last he crept from me to speak to Mr Francis.
“It is of no use to stay longer, I’m afraid, my lad,” he whispered; “unless we wait and see whether the hut is left empty when the expedition party comes back, though I fear they will not come back till morning.”
“What are you going to do, then?” I said.
“Ask Francis to suggest a better hiding-place for us, where we can go to-night and wait for another opportunity.”
I sighed, for I was weary of waiting for opportunities.
“Fast asleep, poor fellow!” he whispered, coming back so silently that he startled me. “Where’s the black?”
I turned sharply to where Jimmy had been curled up, but he was gone.
I crept a little way in two or three directions, but he was not with us, and I said so.
“How dare he go!” the doctor said angrily. “He will ruin our plans! What’s that?”
“Gyp!” I said, as the dog crept up to us and thrust his head against my hand. “Jack Penny is getting anxious. It is a signal for us to come back.”
“How do you know?”
“We agreed upon it,” I said. “He was to send the dog in search of us if we did not join him in two hours; and if we were in trouble I was either to tie something to his collar or take it off.”
“Do neither!” said the doctor quietly. “Look! they are lighting a fire. The others must have come back.”
I turned and saw a faint glow away over the right corner of the hut; and then there was a shout, and the shrill cries of some women and children.
In a moment there was a tremendous excitement in the hut before us, the savages swarming out like angry bees, and almost at the same moment the whole shape of the great long hut stood out against the sky.
“The village is on fire!” whispered the doctor. “Back, my boy! Francis, quick!”
He shook the sleeping man, whom all at once I could see, and he rose rather feebly. Then we backed slowly more and more in amongst the trees, seeing now that one of the light palm-leaf and bamboo huts was blazing furiously, and that another had caught fire, throwing up the cluster of slight buildings into clear relief, while as we backed farther and farther in amongst the trees we could see the blacks—men, women, and children—running to and fro as if wild.
“Now would be the time,” said the doctor. “We might take advantage of the confusion and get your father away.”
“Yes!” I cried excitedly. “I’m ready!”
“Stop for your lives!” said a voice at our elbow, and turning I saw Mr Francis, with his swarthy face lit up by the fire. “You could not get near the hut now without being seen. If you had acted at the moment the alarm began you might have succeeded. It is now too late.”
“No, no!” I cried. “Let us try.”
“It is too late, I say,” cried Mr Francis firmly. “The village is on fire, and the blacks must see you. If you are taken now you will be killed without mercy.”
“We must risk it,” I said excitedly, stepping forward.
“And your father too.”
I recoiled shuddering.
“We must get away to a place of safety, hide for a few days, and then try again. I shall be stronger perhaps then, and can help.”
“It is right,” said the doctor calmly. “Come, Joe. Patience!”
I saw that he was right, for the fire was leaping from hut to hut, and there was a glow that lit up the forest far and wide. Had anyone come near we must have been seen, but the savages were all apparently congregated near the burning huts, while the great sparks and flakes of fire rose up and floated far away above the trees, glittering like stars in the ruddy glow.
“Go on then,” I said, with a groan of disappointment, and Mr Francis took the lead once more, and, the doctor following, I was last.
“But Jimmy!” I said. “We must not leave him behind.”
“He will find us,” said the doctor. “Come along.”
There was nothing for me to do but obey, so I followed reluctantly, the glow from the burning village being so great that the branches of the trees stood up clearly before us, and we had no difficulty in going on.
I followed more reluctantly when I remembered Gyp, and chirruped to him, expecting to find him at my heels, but he was not there.
“He has gone on in front,” I thought, and once more I tramped wearily on, when there was a rush and a bound and Gyp leaped up at me, catching my jacket in his teeth and shaking it hard.
Chapter Forty.How Jimmy cried “Cooee!” and why he called.“Why, Gyp,” I said in a low voice, “what is it, old fellow?”He whined and growled and turned back, trotting towards the burning village.“Yes, I know it’s on fire,” I said. “Come along.”But the dog would not follow. He whined and snuffled and ran back a little farther, when from some distance behind I heard a rustling and a panting noise, which made me spring round and cock my gun.“Followed!” I said to myself, as I continued my retreat, but only to stop short, for from the direction in which we had come I heard whispered, more than called, the familiar cry of the Australian savage, a cry that must, I knew, come from Jimmy, and this explained Gyp’s appearance.“Cooey!”There it was again, and without hesitation I walked sharply back, Gyp running before me as he would not have done had there been an enemy near.There was the panting and rustling again as I retraced my steps, with the light growing plainer, and in less than a minute I came upon Jimmy trudging slowly along with a heavy burden on his back, a second glance at which made me stop speechless in my tracks.“Mass Joe! Jimmy got um fader. Much big heavy. Jimmy got um right fas’.”He panted with the exertion, for he tried to break into a trot.I could do no more than go to his side and lay my trembling hands upon the shoulder of his burden—a man whom he was carrying upon his back.“Go on!” I said hoarsely. “Forward, Gyp, and stop them!”The dog understood the word “Forward,” and went on with a rush, while I let Jimmy pass me, feeling that if he really had him we sought he was performing my duty, while all I could do was to form the rear-guard and protect them even with my life if we were pursued.Either the dog was leading close in front or the black went on by a kind of instinct in the way taken by our companions. At any rate he went steadily on, and I followed, trembling with excitement, ten or a dozen yards behind, in dread lest it should not be true that we had succeeded after all.The light behind us increased so that I could plainly see the bent helpless load upon our follower’s back; but the black trudged steadily on and I followed, panting with eagerness and ready the moment Jimmy paused to leap forward and try to take his place.The fire must have been increasing fast, and the idea was dawning upon me that perhaps this was a plan of the black’s, who had set fire to one of the huts and then seized the opportunity to get the prisoner away. It was like the Australian to do such a thing as this, for he was cunning and full of stratagem, and though it was improbable the idea was growing upon me, when all at once a tremendous weight seemed to fall upon my head and I was dashed to the earth, with a sturdy savage pressing me down, dragging my hands behind me, and beginning to fasten them with some kind of thong.For the moment I was half-stunned. Then the idea came to me of help being at hand, and I was about tocooeyand bring Jimmy to my side, but my lips closed and I set my teeth.“No,” I thought, “he may escape. If any one is to be taken let it be me; my turn will come later on.”My captor had evidently been exerting himself a great deal to overtake me, and after binding me he contented himself by sitting upon my back, panting heavily, to rest himself, while, knowing that struggling would be in vain, I remained motionless, satisfied that every minute was of inestimable value, and that once the doctor knew of the black’s success he would use every exertion to get the captive in safety, and then he would be sure to come in search of me.Then I shuddered, for I remembered what Mr Francis had said about the people being infuriated at such a time, and as I did so I felt that I was a long way yet from being a man.All at once my captor leaped up, and seizing me by the arm he gave me a fearful wrench to make me rise to my feet.For some minutes past I had been expecting to see others of his party come up, or to hear him shout to them, but he remained silent, and stood at last hesitating or listening to the faint shouts that came from the glow beyond the trees.Suddenly he thrust me before him, shaking his waddy menacingly. The next moment he uttered a cry. There was a sharp crack as of one war-club striking another, and then I was struck down by two men struggling fiercely. There were some inarticulate words, and a snarling and panting like two wild beasts engaged in a hard fight, and then a heavy fall, a dull thud, and the sound of a blow, as if some one had struck a tree branch with a club.I could see nothing from where I lay, but as soon as I could recover myself I was struggling to my feet, when a black figure loomed over me, and a familiar voice said hoarsely:“Where Mass Joe knife, cut um ’tring?”“Jimmy!” I said. “My father?”“Set um down come look Mass Joe. Come ’long fas. Gyp take care Jimmy fader till um come back again again.”As Jimmy spoke he thrust his hand into my pocket for my knife, while I was too much interested in his words to remind him that there was my large sheath-knife in my belt.“Come ’long,” he said as he set me free, and we were starting when he stopped short: “No; tie black fellow up firs’. No, can’t ’top.”Before I knew what he meant to do he had given the prostrate black a sharp rap on the head with his waddy.“Jimmy!” I said; “you’ll kill him!”“Kill him! No, makum sleep, sleep. Come ’long.”He went off at a sharp walk and I followed, glancing back anxiously from time to time and listening, till we reached the spot where he had set down his burden, just as the doctor came back, having missed me, and being in dread lest I had lost my way.I did not speak—I could not, but threw myself on my knees beside the strange, long-haired, thickly-bearded figure seated with its back against a tree, while the doctor drew back as soon as he realised that it was my father the black had saved.
“Why, Gyp,” I said in a low voice, “what is it, old fellow?”
He whined and growled and turned back, trotting towards the burning village.
“Yes, I know it’s on fire,” I said. “Come along.”
But the dog would not follow. He whined and snuffled and ran back a little farther, when from some distance behind I heard a rustling and a panting noise, which made me spring round and cock my gun.
“Followed!” I said to myself, as I continued my retreat, but only to stop short, for from the direction in which we had come I heard whispered, more than called, the familiar cry of the Australian savage, a cry that must, I knew, come from Jimmy, and this explained Gyp’s appearance.
“Cooey!”
There it was again, and without hesitation I walked sharply back, Gyp running before me as he would not have done had there been an enemy near.
There was the panting and rustling again as I retraced my steps, with the light growing plainer, and in less than a minute I came upon Jimmy trudging slowly along with a heavy burden on his back, a second glance at which made me stop speechless in my tracks.
“Mass Joe! Jimmy got um fader. Much big heavy. Jimmy got um right fas’.”
He panted with the exertion, for he tried to break into a trot.
I could do no more than go to his side and lay my trembling hands upon the shoulder of his burden—a man whom he was carrying upon his back.
“Go on!” I said hoarsely. “Forward, Gyp, and stop them!”
The dog understood the word “Forward,” and went on with a rush, while I let Jimmy pass me, feeling that if he really had him we sought he was performing my duty, while all I could do was to form the rear-guard and protect them even with my life if we were pursued.
Either the dog was leading close in front or the black went on by a kind of instinct in the way taken by our companions. At any rate he went steadily on, and I followed, trembling with excitement, ten or a dozen yards behind, in dread lest it should not be true that we had succeeded after all.
The light behind us increased so that I could plainly see the bent helpless load upon our follower’s back; but the black trudged steadily on and I followed, panting with eagerness and ready the moment Jimmy paused to leap forward and try to take his place.
The fire must have been increasing fast, and the idea was dawning upon me that perhaps this was a plan of the black’s, who had set fire to one of the huts and then seized the opportunity to get the prisoner away. It was like the Australian to do such a thing as this, for he was cunning and full of stratagem, and though it was improbable the idea was growing upon me, when all at once a tremendous weight seemed to fall upon my head and I was dashed to the earth, with a sturdy savage pressing me down, dragging my hands behind me, and beginning to fasten them with some kind of thong.
For the moment I was half-stunned. Then the idea came to me of help being at hand, and I was about tocooeyand bring Jimmy to my side, but my lips closed and I set my teeth.
“No,” I thought, “he may escape. If any one is to be taken let it be me; my turn will come later on.”
My captor had evidently been exerting himself a great deal to overtake me, and after binding me he contented himself by sitting upon my back, panting heavily, to rest himself, while, knowing that struggling would be in vain, I remained motionless, satisfied that every minute was of inestimable value, and that once the doctor knew of the black’s success he would use every exertion to get the captive in safety, and then he would be sure to come in search of me.
Then I shuddered, for I remembered what Mr Francis had said about the people being infuriated at such a time, and as I did so I felt that I was a long way yet from being a man.
All at once my captor leaped up, and seizing me by the arm he gave me a fearful wrench to make me rise to my feet.
For some minutes past I had been expecting to see others of his party come up, or to hear him shout to them, but he remained silent, and stood at last hesitating or listening to the faint shouts that came from the glow beyond the trees.
Suddenly he thrust me before him, shaking his waddy menacingly. The next moment he uttered a cry. There was a sharp crack as of one war-club striking another, and then I was struck down by two men struggling fiercely. There were some inarticulate words, and a snarling and panting like two wild beasts engaged in a hard fight, and then a heavy fall, a dull thud, and the sound of a blow, as if some one had struck a tree branch with a club.
I could see nothing from where I lay, but as soon as I could recover myself I was struggling to my feet, when a black figure loomed over me, and a familiar voice said hoarsely:
“Where Mass Joe knife, cut um ’tring?”
“Jimmy!” I said. “My father?”
“Set um down come look Mass Joe. Come ’long fas. Gyp take care Jimmy fader till um come back again again.”
As Jimmy spoke he thrust his hand into my pocket for my knife, while I was too much interested in his words to remind him that there was my large sheath-knife in my belt.
“Come ’long,” he said as he set me free, and we were starting when he stopped short: “No; tie black fellow up firs’. No, can’t ’top.”
Before I knew what he meant to do he had given the prostrate black a sharp rap on the head with his waddy.
“Jimmy!” I said; “you’ll kill him!”
“Kill him! No, makum sleep, sleep. Come ’long.”
He went off at a sharp walk and I followed, glancing back anxiously from time to time and listening, till we reached the spot where he had set down his burden, just as the doctor came back, having missed me, and being in dread lest I had lost my way.
I did not speak—I could not, but threw myself on my knees beside the strange, long-haired, thickly-bearded figure seated with its back against a tree, while the doctor drew back as soon as he realised that it was my father the black had saved.
Chapter Forty One.How Jimmy heard the Bunyip speak, and it all proved to be “Big ’Tuff.”I Need not recount what passed just then. But few words were spoken, and there was no time for displays of affection. One black had seen and pursued Jimmy, and others might be on our track, so that our work was far from being half done even now.“Can you walk, sir?” said the doctor sharply.My poor father raised his face toward the speaker and uttered some incoherent words.“No, no; he has been kept bound by the ankles till the use of his feet has gone,” said Mr Francis, who had remained silent up to now.“Can’t walk—Jimmy carry um,” said the black in a whisper. “Don’t make noise—hear um black fellow.”“You are tired,” said the doctor; “let me take a turn.”Jimmy made no objection, but bore the gun, while the doctor carried my father slowly and steadily on for some distance; then the black took a turn and bore him right to the place where our black followers were waiting, and where Jack Penny was anxiously expecting our return.“I thought you wasn’t coming back,” he said as Jimmy set down the burden; and then in a doleful voice he continued, “I couldn’t do that, my back’s so weak.”But Ti-hi and his friends saw our difficulty, and cut down a couple of long stout bamboos whose tops were soon cleared of leaves and shoots. Two holes were made in the bottom of a light sack whose contents were otherwise distributed, the poles thrust through, and my poor father gently laid upon the sack. Four of us then went to the ends of the poles, which were placed upon our shoulders, and keeping step as well as we could, we went slowly and steadily on, Mr Francis taking the lead and acting as guide.Our progress was very slow, but we journeyed steadily on hour after hour, taking advantage of every open part of the forest that was not likely to show traces of our passage, and obliged blindly to trust to Mr Francis as to the way.It was weary work, but no one seemed to mind, each, even Jack Penny, taking his turn at the end of one of the bamboos; and when at last the morning broke, and the bright sunshine showed us our haggard faces, we still kept on, the daylight helping us to make better way till the sun came down so fiercely that we were obliged to halt in a dense part of the forest where some huge trees gave us shade.Mr Francis looked uneasily about, and I caught his anxious gaze directed so often in different directions that I whispered to the doctor my fears that he had lost his way.“Never mind, lad,” replied the doctor; “we have the compass. Our way is south towards the coast—anywhere as long as we get beyond reach of the blacks. No, don’t disturb him, let him sleep.”I was about to draw near and speak to my father, in whose careworn hollow face I gazed with something approaching fear. His eyes were closed, and now, for the first time, I could see the ravages that the long captivity had made in his features; but, mingled with these, there was a quiet restful look that made me draw back in silence from where the litter had been laid and join my companions in partaking of such food as we had.Watch was set, the doctor choosing the post of guard, and then, lying anywhere, we all sought for relief from our weariness in sleep.As for me, one moment I was lying gazing at the long unkempt hair and head of him I had come to seek, and thinking that I would rest like that, rising now and then to see and watch with the doctor; the next I was wandering away in dreams through the forest in search of my father; and then all was blank till I started up to catch at my gun, for some one had touched me on the shoulder.“There is nothing wrong, my lad,” said the doctor—“fortunately—for I have been a bad sentry, and have just awoke to find that I have been sleeping at my post.”“Sleeping!” I said, still confused from my own deep slumbers.“Yes,” he said; “every one has been asleep from utter exhaustion.”I looked round, and there were our companions sleeping heavily.“I’ve been thinking that we may be as safe here as farther away,” continued the doctor; “so let them rest still, for we have a tremendous task before us to get down to the coast.”Just then Jimmy leaped up staring, his hand on his waddy and his eyes wandering in search of danger.This being absent, his next idea was regarding food.“Much hungry,” he said, “want mutton, want damper, want eatums.”The rest were aroused, and, water being close at hand in a little stream, we soon had our simple store of food brought out and made a refreshing meal, of which my father, as he lay, partook mechanically, but without a word.The doctor then bathed and dressed his ankles, which were in a fearfully swollen and injured state. Like Mr Francis, he seemed as if his long captivity had made him think like the savages among whom he had been; while the terrible mental anxiety he had suffered along with his bodily anguish had resulted in complete prostration. He ate what was given to him or drank with his eyes closed, and when he opened them once or twice it was not to let them wander round upon us who attended to him, but to gaze straight up in a vague manner and mutter a few of the native words before sinking back into a stupor-like sleep.I gazed at the doctor with my misery speaking in my eyes, for it was so different a meeting from that which I had imagined. There was no delight, no anguished tears, no pressing to a loving father’s heart. We had found him a mere hopeless wreck, apparently, like Mr Francis, and the pain I suffered seemed more than I could bear.“Patience!” the doctor said to me, with a smile. “Yes, I know what you want to ask me. Let’s wait and see. He was dying slowly, Joe, and we have come in time to save his life.”“You are sure?” I said.“No,” he answered, “not sure, but I shall hope. Now let’s get on again till dark, and then we’ll have a good rest in the safest place we can find.”In the exertion and toil that followed I found some relief. My interest, too, was excited by seeing how much Mr Francis seemed to change hour by hour, and how well he knew the country which he led us through.He found for us a capital resting-place in a rocky gorge, where, unless tracked step by step, there was no fear of our being surprised. Here there was water and fruit, and, short a distance as we had come, the darkness made it necessary that we should wait for day.Then followed days and weeks of slow travel through a beautiful country, always south and west. We did not go many miles some days, for the burden we carried made our passage very slow. Sometimes, too, our black scouts came back to announce that we were travelling towards some black village, or that a hunting party was in our neighbourhood, and though these people might have been friendly, we took the advice of our black companions and avoided them, either by making a détour or by waiting in hiding till they had passed.Water was plentiful, and Jimmy and Ti-hi never let us want for fruit, fish, or some animal for food. Now it would be a wild pig or a small deer, more often birds, for these literally swarmed in some of the lakes and marshes round which we made our way.The country was so thinly inhabited that we could always light a fire in some shut-in part of the forest without fear, and so we got on, running risks at times, but on the whole meeting with but few adventures.After getting over the exertion and a little return of fever from too early leaving his sick-bed of boughs, Mr Francis mended rapidly, his wound healing well and his mind daily growing clearer. Every now and then, when excited, he had relapses, and looked at us hopelessly, talking quickly in the savages’ tongue; but these grew less frequent, and there would be days during which he would be quite free. He grew so much better that at the end of a month he insisted upon taking his place at one of the bamboos, proving himself to be a tender nurse to our invalid in his turn.And all this time my father seemed to alter but little. The doctor was indefatigable in his endeavours; but though he soon wrought a change in his patient’s bodily infirmities to such an extent, that at last my father could walk first a mile, then a couple, and then ease the bearers of half their toil, his mind seemed gone, and he went on in a strangely vacant way.As time went on and our long journey continued he would walk slowly by my side, resting on my shoulder, and with his eyes always fixed upon the earth. If he was spoken to he did not seem to hear, and he never opened his lips save to utter a few words in the savage tongue.I was in despair, but the doctor still bade me hope.“Time works wonders, Joe,” he said. “His bodily health is improving wonderfully, and at last that must act upon his mind.”“But it does not,” I said. “He has walked at least six miles to-day as if in a dream. Oh, doctor!” I exclaimed, “we cannot take him back like this. You keep bidding me hope, and it seems no use.”He smiled at me in his calm satisfied way.“And yet I’ve done something, Joe,” he said. “We found him—we got him away—we had him first a hopeless invalid—he is now rapidly becoming a strong healthy man.”“Healthy!”“In body, boy. Recollect that for years he seems to have been kept chained up by the savages like some wild beast, perhaps through some religious scruples against destroying the life of a white man who was wise in trees and plants. Likely enough they feared that if they killed such a medicine-man it might result in a plague or curse.”“That is why they spared us both,” said Mr Francis, who had heard the latter part of our conversation; “and the long course of being kept imprisoned there seemed to completely freeze up his brain as it did mine. That and the fever and blows I received,” he said excitedly. “There were times when—”He clapped his hands to his head as if he dared not trust himself to speak, and turned away.“Yes, that is it, my lad,” said the doctor quietly; “his brain has become paralysed as it were. A change may come at any time. Under the circumstances, in spite of your mother’s anxiety, we’ll wait and go slowly homeward. Let me see,” he continued, turning to a little calendar he kept, “to-morrow begins the tenth month of our journey. Come, be of good heart. We’ve done wonders; nature will do the rest.”Two days later we had come to a halt in a lovely little glen through which trickled a clear spring whose banks were brilliant with flowers. We were all busy cooking and preparing to halt there for the night. My father had walked the whole of the morning, and now had wandered slowly away along the banks of the stream, Mr Francis being a little further on, while Jimmy was busy standing beside a pool spearing fish.I glanced up once or twice to see that my father was standing motionless on the bank, and then I was busying myself once more cutting soft boughs to make a bed when Jimmy came bounding up to me with his eyes starting and mouth open.“Where a gun, where a gun?” he cried. “Big bunyip down ’mong a trees, try to eat Jimmy. Ask for um dinner, all aloud, oh.”“Hush! be quiet!” I cried, catching his arm; “what do you mean?”“Big bunyip down ’mong stones say, ‘Hoo! much hungry; where my boy?’”“Some one said that?” I cried.“Yes, ‘much hungry, where my boy?’ Want eat black boy; eat Jimmy!”“What nonsense, Jimmy!” I said. “Don’t be such a donkey. There are no bunyips.”“Jimmy heard um say um!” he cried, stamping his spear on the ground.Just then I involuntarily glanced in the direction where my father stood, and saw him stoop and pick up a flower or two.My heart gave a bound.The next minute he was walking slowly towards Mr Francis, to whom he held out the flowers; and then I felt giddy, for I saw them coming slowly towards our camp, both talking earnestly, my father seeming to be explaining something about the flowers he had picked.The doctor had seen it too, and he drew me away, after cautioning Jimmy to be silent.And there we stood while those two rescued prisoners talked quietly and earnestly together, but it was in the savage tongue.I need not tell you of my joy, or the doctor’s triumphant looks.“It is the beginning, Joe,” he said; and hardly had he spoken when Jimmy came up.“Not bunyip ’tall!” he said scornfully. “Not no bunyip; all big ’tuff! Jimmy, Mass Joe fader talk away, say, ‘where my boy?’”
I Need not recount what passed just then. But few words were spoken, and there was no time for displays of affection. One black had seen and pursued Jimmy, and others might be on our track, so that our work was far from being half done even now.
“Can you walk, sir?” said the doctor sharply.
My poor father raised his face toward the speaker and uttered some incoherent words.
“No, no; he has been kept bound by the ankles till the use of his feet has gone,” said Mr Francis, who had remained silent up to now.
“Can’t walk—Jimmy carry um,” said the black in a whisper. “Don’t make noise—hear um black fellow.”
“You are tired,” said the doctor; “let me take a turn.”
Jimmy made no objection, but bore the gun, while the doctor carried my father slowly and steadily on for some distance; then the black took a turn and bore him right to the place where our black followers were waiting, and where Jack Penny was anxiously expecting our return.
“I thought you wasn’t coming back,” he said as Jimmy set down the burden; and then in a doleful voice he continued, “I couldn’t do that, my back’s so weak.”
But Ti-hi and his friends saw our difficulty, and cut down a couple of long stout bamboos whose tops were soon cleared of leaves and shoots. Two holes were made in the bottom of a light sack whose contents were otherwise distributed, the poles thrust through, and my poor father gently laid upon the sack. Four of us then went to the ends of the poles, which were placed upon our shoulders, and keeping step as well as we could, we went slowly and steadily on, Mr Francis taking the lead and acting as guide.
Our progress was very slow, but we journeyed steadily on hour after hour, taking advantage of every open part of the forest that was not likely to show traces of our passage, and obliged blindly to trust to Mr Francis as to the way.
It was weary work, but no one seemed to mind, each, even Jack Penny, taking his turn at the end of one of the bamboos; and when at last the morning broke, and the bright sunshine showed us our haggard faces, we still kept on, the daylight helping us to make better way till the sun came down so fiercely that we were obliged to halt in a dense part of the forest where some huge trees gave us shade.
Mr Francis looked uneasily about, and I caught his anxious gaze directed so often in different directions that I whispered to the doctor my fears that he had lost his way.
“Never mind, lad,” replied the doctor; “we have the compass. Our way is south towards the coast—anywhere as long as we get beyond reach of the blacks. No, don’t disturb him, let him sleep.”
I was about to draw near and speak to my father, in whose careworn hollow face I gazed with something approaching fear. His eyes were closed, and now, for the first time, I could see the ravages that the long captivity had made in his features; but, mingled with these, there was a quiet restful look that made me draw back in silence from where the litter had been laid and join my companions in partaking of such food as we had.
Watch was set, the doctor choosing the post of guard, and then, lying anywhere, we all sought for relief from our weariness in sleep.
As for me, one moment I was lying gazing at the long unkempt hair and head of him I had come to seek, and thinking that I would rest like that, rising now and then to see and watch with the doctor; the next I was wandering away in dreams through the forest in search of my father; and then all was blank till I started up to catch at my gun, for some one had touched me on the shoulder.
“There is nothing wrong, my lad,” said the doctor—“fortunately—for I have been a bad sentry, and have just awoke to find that I have been sleeping at my post.”
“Sleeping!” I said, still confused from my own deep slumbers.
“Yes,” he said; “every one has been asleep from utter exhaustion.”
I looked round, and there were our companions sleeping heavily.
“I’ve been thinking that we may be as safe here as farther away,” continued the doctor; “so let them rest still, for we have a tremendous task before us to get down to the coast.”
Just then Jimmy leaped up staring, his hand on his waddy and his eyes wandering in search of danger.
This being absent, his next idea was regarding food.
“Much hungry,” he said, “want mutton, want damper, want eatums.”
The rest were aroused, and, water being close at hand in a little stream, we soon had our simple store of food brought out and made a refreshing meal, of which my father, as he lay, partook mechanically, but without a word.
The doctor then bathed and dressed his ankles, which were in a fearfully swollen and injured state. Like Mr Francis, he seemed as if his long captivity had made him think like the savages among whom he had been; while the terrible mental anxiety he had suffered along with his bodily anguish had resulted in complete prostration. He ate what was given to him or drank with his eyes closed, and when he opened them once or twice it was not to let them wander round upon us who attended to him, but to gaze straight up in a vague manner and mutter a few of the native words before sinking back into a stupor-like sleep.
I gazed at the doctor with my misery speaking in my eyes, for it was so different a meeting from that which I had imagined. There was no delight, no anguished tears, no pressing to a loving father’s heart. We had found him a mere hopeless wreck, apparently, like Mr Francis, and the pain I suffered seemed more than I could bear.
“Patience!” the doctor said to me, with a smile. “Yes, I know what you want to ask me. Let’s wait and see. He was dying slowly, Joe, and we have come in time to save his life.”
“You are sure?” I said.
“No,” he answered, “not sure, but I shall hope. Now let’s get on again till dark, and then we’ll have a good rest in the safest place we can find.”
In the exertion and toil that followed I found some relief. My interest, too, was excited by seeing how much Mr Francis seemed to change hour by hour, and how well he knew the country which he led us through.
He found for us a capital resting-place in a rocky gorge, where, unless tracked step by step, there was no fear of our being surprised. Here there was water and fruit, and, short a distance as we had come, the darkness made it necessary that we should wait for day.
Then followed days and weeks of slow travel through a beautiful country, always south and west. We did not go many miles some days, for the burden we carried made our passage very slow. Sometimes, too, our black scouts came back to announce that we were travelling towards some black village, or that a hunting party was in our neighbourhood, and though these people might have been friendly, we took the advice of our black companions and avoided them, either by making a détour or by waiting in hiding till they had passed.
Water was plentiful, and Jimmy and Ti-hi never let us want for fruit, fish, or some animal for food. Now it would be a wild pig or a small deer, more often birds, for these literally swarmed in some of the lakes and marshes round which we made our way.
The country was so thinly inhabited that we could always light a fire in some shut-in part of the forest without fear, and so we got on, running risks at times, but on the whole meeting with but few adventures.
After getting over the exertion and a little return of fever from too early leaving his sick-bed of boughs, Mr Francis mended rapidly, his wound healing well and his mind daily growing clearer. Every now and then, when excited, he had relapses, and looked at us hopelessly, talking quickly in the savages’ tongue; but these grew less frequent, and there would be days during which he would be quite free. He grew so much better that at the end of a month he insisted upon taking his place at one of the bamboos, proving himself to be a tender nurse to our invalid in his turn.
And all this time my father seemed to alter but little. The doctor was indefatigable in his endeavours; but though he soon wrought a change in his patient’s bodily infirmities to such an extent, that at last my father could walk first a mile, then a couple, and then ease the bearers of half their toil, his mind seemed gone, and he went on in a strangely vacant way.
As time went on and our long journey continued he would walk slowly by my side, resting on my shoulder, and with his eyes always fixed upon the earth. If he was spoken to he did not seem to hear, and he never opened his lips save to utter a few words in the savage tongue.
I was in despair, but the doctor still bade me hope.
“Time works wonders, Joe,” he said. “His bodily health is improving wonderfully, and at last that must act upon his mind.”
“But it does not,” I said. “He has walked at least six miles to-day as if in a dream. Oh, doctor!” I exclaimed, “we cannot take him back like this. You keep bidding me hope, and it seems no use.”
He smiled at me in his calm satisfied way.
“And yet I’ve done something, Joe,” he said. “We found him—we got him away—we had him first a hopeless invalid—he is now rapidly becoming a strong healthy man.”
“Healthy!”
“In body, boy. Recollect that for years he seems to have been kept chained up by the savages like some wild beast, perhaps through some religious scruples against destroying the life of a white man who was wise in trees and plants. Likely enough they feared that if they killed such a medicine-man it might result in a plague or curse.”
“That is why they spared us both,” said Mr Francis, who had heard the latter part of our conversation; “and the long course of being kept imprisoned there seemed to completely freeze up his brain as it did mine. That and the fever and blows I received,” he said excitedly. “There were times when—”
He clapped his hands to his head as if he dared not trust himself to speak, and turned away.
“Yes, that is it, my lad,” said the doctor quietly; “his brain has become paralysed as it were. A change may come at any time. Under the circumstances, in spite of your mother’s anxiety, we’ll wait and go slowly homeward. Let me see,” he continued, turning to a little calendar he kept, “to-morrow begins the tenth month of our journey. Come, be of good heart. We’ve done wonders; nature will do the rest.”
Two days later we had come to a halt in a lovely little glen through which trickled a clear spring whose banks were brilliant with flowers. We were all busy cooking and preparing to halt there for the night. My father had walked the whole of the morning, and now had wandered slowly away along the banks of the stream, Mr Francis being a little further on, while Jimmy was busy standing beside a pool spearing fish.
I glanced up once or twice to see that my father was standing motionless on the bank, and then I was busying myself once more cutting soft boughs to make a bed when Jimmy came bounding up to me with his eyes starting and mouth open.
“Where a gun, where a gun?” he cried. “Big bunyip down ’mong a trees, try to eat Jimmy. Ask for um dinner, all aloud, oh.”
“Hush! be quiet!” I cried, catching his arm; “what do you mean?”
“Big bunyip down ’mong stones say, ‘Hoo! much hungry; where my boy?’”
“Some one said that?” I cried.
“Yes, ‘much hungry, where my boy?’ Want eat black boy; eat Jimmy!”
“What nonsense, Jimmy!” I said. “Don’t be such a donkey. There are no bunyips.”
“Jimmy heard um say um!” he cried, stamping his spear on the ground.
Just then I involuntarily glanced in the direction where my father stood, and saw him stoop and pick up a flower or two.
My heart gave a bound.
The next minute he was walking slowly towards Mr Francis, to whom he held out the flowers; and then I felt giddy, for I saw them coming slowly towards our camp, both talking earnestly, my father seeming to be explaining something about the flowers he had picked.
The doctor had seen it too, and he drew me away, after cautioning Jimmy to be silent.
And there we stood while those two rescued prisoners talked quietly and earnestly together, but it was in the savage tongue.
I need not tell you of my joy, or the doctor’s triumphant looks.
“It is the beginning, Joe,” he said; and hardly had he spoken when Jimmy came up.
“Not bunyip ’tall!” he said scornfully. “Not no bunyip; all big ’tuff! Jimmy, Mass Joe fader talk away, say, ‘where my boy?’”
Chapter Forty Two.How I must wind up the Story.It was the beginning of a better time, for from that day what was like the dawn of a return of his mental powers brightened and strengthened into the full sunshine of reason, and by the time we had been waiting at Ti-hi’s village for the coming of the captain with his schooner we had heard the whole of my father’s adventures from his own lips, and how he had been struck down from behind by one of the blacks while collecting, and kept a prisoner ever since.I need not tell you of his words to me, his thanks to the doctor, and his intense longing for the coming of the schooner, which seemed to be an age before it came in sight.We made Ti-hi and his companions happy by our supply of presents, for we wanted to take nothing back, and at last one bright morning we sailed from the glorious continent-like island, with two strong middle-aged men on board, both of whom were returning to a civilised land with the traces of their captivity in their hair and beards, which were as white as snow.Neither shall I tell you of the safe voyage home, and of the meeting there. Joy had come at last where sorrow had sojourned so long, and I was happy in my task that I had fulfilled.I will tell you, though, what the captain said in his hearty way over and over again.To me it used to be:“Well, you have growed! Why, if you’d stopped another year you’d have been quite a man. I say, though I never thought you’d ha’ done it; ’pon my word!”Similar words these to those often uttered by poor, prejudiced, obstinate old nurse.To Jack Penny the captain was always saying:“I say, young ’un, how you’ve growed too; not uppards but beam ways. Why, hang me if I don’t think you’ll make a fine man yet!”And so he did; a great strong six-foot fellow, with a voice like a trombone. Jack Penny is a sheep-farmer on his own account now, and after a visit to England with my staunch friend the doctor, where I gained some education, and used to do a good deal of business for my father, who is one of the greatest collectors in the south, I returned home, and went to stay a week with Jack Penny.“I say,” he said laughing, “my back’s as strong as a lion’s now. How it used to ache!”We were standing at the door of his house, looking north, for we had been talking of our travels, when all at once I caught sight of what looked like a little white tombstone under a eucalyptus tree.“Why, what’s that?” I said.Jack Penny’s countenance changed, and there were a couple of tears in the eyes of the great strong fellow as he said slowly:“That’s to the memory of Gyp, the best dog as ever lived!”I must not end without a word about Jimmy, my father’s faithful companion in his botanical trips.Jimmy nearly went mad for joy when I got back from England, dancing about like a child. He was always at the door, black and shining as ever, and there was constantly something to be done. One day he had seen the biggest ole man kangaroo as ever was; and this time there was a wallaby to be found; another the announcement that the black cockatoos were in the woods; or else it would be:“Mass Joe, Mass Joe! Jimmy want go kedge fis very bad; do come a day.”And I? Well, I used to go, and it seemed like being a boy again to go on some expedition with my true old companion and friend.Yes, friend; Jimmy was always looked upon as a friend; and long before then my mother would have fed and clothed him, given him anything he asked. But Jimmy was wild and happiest so, and I found him just as he was when I left home, faithful and boyish and winning, and often ready to say:“When Mass Joe ready, go and find um fader all over again!”The End.
It was the beginning of a better time, for from that day what was like the dawn of a return of his mental powers brightened and strengthened into the full sunshine of reason, and by the time we had been waiting at Ti-hi’s village for the coming of the captain with his schooner we had heard the whole of my father’s adventures from his own lips, and how he had been struck down from behind by one of the blacks while collecting, and kept a prisoner ever since.
I need not tell you of his words to me, his thanks to the doctor, and his intense longing for the coming of the schooner, which seemed to be an age before it came in sight.
We made Ti-hi and his companions happy by our supply of presents, for we wanted to take nothing back, and at last one bright morning we sailed from the glorious continent-like island, with two strong middle-aged men on board, both of whom were returning to a civilised land with the traces of their captivity in their hair and beards, which were as white as snow.
Neither shall I tell you of the safe voyage home, and of the meeting there. Joy had come at last where sorrow had sojourned so long, and I was happy in my task that I had fulfilled.
I will tell you, though, what the captain said in his hearty way over and over again.
To me it used to be:
“Well, you have growed! Why, if you’d stopped another year you’d have been quite a man. I say, though I never thought you’d ha’ done it; ’pon my word!”
Similar words these to those often uttered by poor, prejudiced, obstinate old nurse.
To Jack Penny the captain was always saying:
“I say, young ’un, how you’ve growed too; not uppards but beam ways. Why, hang me if I don’t think you’ll make a fine man yet!”
And so he did; a great strong six-foot fellow, with a voice like a trombone. Jack Penny is a sheep-farmer on his own account now, and after a visit to England with my staunch friend the doctor, where I gained some education, and used to do a good deal of business for my father, who is one of the greatest collectors in the south, I returned home, and went to stay a week with Jack Penny.
“I say,” he said laughing, “my back’s as strong as a lion’s now. How it used to ache!”
We were standing at the door of his house, looking north, for we had been talking of our travels, when all at once I caught sight of what looked like a little white tombstone under a eucalyptus tree.
“Why, what’s that?” I said.
Jack Penny’s countenance changed, and there were a couple of tears in the eyes of the great strong fellow as he said slowly:
“That’s to the memory of Gyp, the best dog as ever lived!”
I must not end without a word about Jimmy, my father’s faithful companion in his botanical trips.
Jimmy nearly went mad for joy when I got back from England, dancing about like a child. He was always at the door, black and shining as ever, and there was constantly something to be done. One day he had seen the biggest ole man kangaroo as ever was; and this time there was a wallaby to be found; another the announcement that the black cockatoos were in the woods; or else it would be:
“Mass Joe, Mass Joe! Jimmy want go kedge fis very bad; do come a day.”
And I? Well, I used to go, and it seemed like being a boy again to go on some expedition with my true old companion and friend.
Yes, friend; Jimmy was always looked upon as a friend; and long before then my mother would have fed and clothed him, given him anything he asked. But Jimmy was wild and happiest so, and I found him just as he was when I left home, faithful and boyish and winning, and often ready to say:
“When Mass Joe ready, go and find um fader all over again!”
|Chapter 1| |Chapter 2| |Chapter 3| |Chapter 4| |Chapter 5| |Chapter 6| |Chapter 7| |Chapter 8| |Chapter 9| |Chapter 10| |Chapter 11| |Chapter 12| |Chapter 13| |Chapter 14| |Chapter 15| |Chapter 16| |Chapter 17| |Chapter 18| |Chapter 19| |Chapter 20| |Chapter 21| |Chapter 22| |Chapter 23| |Chapter 24| |Chapter 25| |Chapter 26| |Chapter 27| |Chapter 28| |Chapter 29| |Chapter 30| |Chapter 31| |Chapter 32| |Chapter 33| |Chapter 34| |Chapter 35| |Chapter 36| |Chapter 37| |Chapter 38| |Chapter 39| |Chapter 40| |Chapter 41| |Chapter 42|