THE LAST CREEK.

By John Mackie.

The story of an eventful journey in the Australian bush, with hostile blacks on the track. Mr. Mackie got through, but the passage of the last creek was a distinctly touch-and-go affair.

SCHOONERSmust have grub, and I had accompanied ours round to Normanton for supplies, leaving only one white man, a Malay, a Cingalese, and two semi-civilized black boys to look after the station and store I had established on the lonely Calvert River, in the south-western corner of the Gulf of Carpentaria.

Now a bushman had just arrived at Normanton who had passed my place on the Calvert a few days before. He told of a sorry state of affairs. My men had run out of rations and, what was worse, powder and shot. They were now subsisting on a little rice, what few fish they could catch in the swollen river, 'possums, iguanas, and snakes. This was certainly pretty near bed-rock; but people in the Gulf country in those days did not trouble much about their bill of fare; it was the blacks, flies, and fever that concerned them most, and the blacks near my place just then were particularly bad. They had come down in a body some days previously, killed two or three of my remaining horses, and tried their level best to get at my men. Fortunately, after a ruinous consumption of powder and shot, they had been driven off.

There was only one thing for it—I must get to my station at any cost, and that at once. To have it left to the mercy of the blacks was to have it looted and burned to the ground, and all my schemes knocked on the head.

More important, still, there were my men. I knew that if they attempted to go eastward they would find themselves hemmed in by the great creeks, and must be drowned or perish for want of food. I did not take two minutes to make up my mind. I was young, of a girth that is denied to most men, and the love of adventure ran hot in my blood. It was now late in the evening, but I would start before sunrise in the morning, and some time on the following day, if I had luck, would reach my place. I had swum dozens of swollen rivers before, with a horse and without a horse; and as for the blacks, I had got used to them like the flies, and I had my Colt.

Next morning, while it was yet grey-dark, I strapped a small knapsack on my back, containing a quart bottle full of powder, some small shot, and other essentials, and prepared to start out. I told my partner to push round to the Calvert River with the schooner as soon as the gale abated, and was rowed to the eastern bank of the river in the dinghy. The landing was bad, and here I had my first accident; for while the man who rowed the boat was throwing after me the packet of bread and meat that was to sustain me on my sixty-odd miles walk, it fell short and splashed into the river. Back to the boat for more I would not go; there was a considerable vein of old Highland superstition deep down in my composition somewhere. I had gone, on more than one occasion, without food for two or three days; I could surely do it now for some thirty-six hours or so, even although I had not troubled about breakfast before starting.

Sixty-odd miles of partially-flooded country infested by niggers! It hardly gave me a thought in those days. My revolver was in my belt, the cartridges were waterproof, the load on my back was light, and had it not been for the thought of those poor chaps on the banks of the Calvert my heart would have been still lighter.

I had traversed that uncertain track before on horseback, and, being a fairly good bushman, there was not much danger of my losing it. I wended my way through a gloomy pine-scrub, but as the rain had packed the sandy soil the walking was fairly good, and I did my first few miles as easily as if I had been walking on a macadamized road. Then I came to an openpatch of lightly timbered country, and sat down on the crooked stem of a ti tree for a few minutes to fill and light my pipe.

A sickly, wan light had by this time appeared in the eastern sky. A laughing jackass crashed into the tender spirit of the dawn, and startled me for the moment by shrieking hysterically from a high gum tree. A pale lemon glow showed over the tree-tops to the east, spread upwards and outwards, and then gave place to a tawny yellow; the few faint stars went out one by one, like lights in a great city at break of day; a little bird among the boughs called sleepily to its mate, and in another minute a noisy flock of parrakeets flew screeching past. It was a wet, melancholy world, and when the sun showed behind the trees like a great white quivering ball of fire, and a thin, gauze-like mist arose from the damp sandy soil, I knew that the fierce tropical day had once more set in.

I stepped gaily out again. Dangers? Why, the walking was almost as good and pleasant as it was in any settled part of the country. Then, all at once, my feet went splash! splash! into what seemed to be a large pool of water; still on I went. In a few yards the water was over my ankles; some fifteen or twenty yards more, and I realized that it was up to my knees—fresh, warm, pellucid rain-water with dead leaves and forestdébrisfloating through it. It was heavy wading, and I paused for a moment to gain breath and look around.

There was water everywhere; it spread out like a great carpet over the fairly level ground, and only the fine points of the very highest grasses could be seen. Soon the flood was up to my armpits, and then I began to swim. Even had I not been a strong swimmer, I could hardly have been drowned, for all I had to do was to climb into a tree and rest in the branches. In a few minutes more I came to a comparatively open space and was swimming among the shaggy, drooping heads of Pandanus palms. Then, all at once, I found I was being carried away by a powerful current. I must get across that creek, wherever it was, or else my strength must necessarily give out. Luckily my light linen trousers and cotton shirt did not impede me much; my watertight knapsack was but a trifling inconvenience; it was my boots that were tiring me. I did not want boots, anyhow, in that sandy soil. I swam hand over hand to a gum tree that reared its head above the water, and, grasping a strong limb, drew myself up. I left my boots, tied together by the laces, dangling over a bough, and was descending the limb when, to my consternation, I saw just beneath me one of the largest tiger-snakes I ever in my life had the good or ill fortune to meet. It had doubtless been coiled round one of the upper branches when I first came to the tree, and, being as much afraid of me as I now was of it, had again made for the trunk, only to find its retreat cut off. There was no time to cut a stick and have a sportive five minutes; besides, I had but scanty footing and room to fight nimble tiger-snakes, and so there was only one thing for it. The reptile, when I threw a small piece of dry wood at it, positively refused to budge. I took one last disgusted look at its gleaming, mottled, sinuous coils and flat, repulsive head, from which its black, wicked, basilisk eyes looked dully out, and flopped into the water from my perch, a distance of some ten or twelve feet. At one place the current resembled a mill-race; this was doubtless the creek proper. In ten minutes more I touched bottom with my feet, and soon, to my great joy, I was stepping along on the firm sand again. I soon found the track, but on it I also found what I least desired to see—the tracks of savages going in the same direction as myself. I kept a sharp look-out after that.

The sun shone out all through that long, arduous day with a fierce, intense heat, but there was no time for rest. I swam several creeks, which carried me hundreds of yards down stream at a pace which meant certain death if I ran against the business end of a snag; and I waded and swam for many hundreds of yards at a stretch along the track in places where it was flooded. By drinking copiously of the lukewarm water I kept off the cravings of a healthy hunger. My pipe had slipped from my pouch, and, anyhow, my tobacco and matches, which I carried inside my hat, had got wet when I dropped from the tree; and this, to me, was the greatest drawback of the situation. The sun rounded slowly towards the west, and it was fast becoming dark, when suddenly I heard the jabbering of blacks at some little distance. To climb into a thick pine tree and conceal myself in its branches was the work of a few minutes. I had hardly done so before a straggling mob of blacks passed slowly underneath; the bucks, or warriors, went first with spears and boomerangs in their hands, and the gins followed, carrying the piccaninnies and household goods slung in numerous dilly-bags over their backs. A few wretched half-tame dingoes brought up the rear, snarling and fighting with one another. It seemed strange to me that these savages should be journeying along the track, for at other times they were rather anxious to avoid it. Perhaps they did it for the sake of the novelty of the situation, naturally supposing that their enemies,the whites, would not be travelling during the wet season. There might have been fifty or sixty of them altogether in the band. To my intense annoyance they went on about a couple of hundred yards, and halted, to camp for the night, on what was evidently a drier piece of ground than usual. There was no help for it—I should have to pass the night in that tree. It would be folly to wander about in the dark; besides, I was dead tired and could hardly keep my eyes open.

"WHEN I THREW A PIECE OF DRY WOOD AT IT, THE REPTILE POSITIVELY REFUSED TO BUDGE."

I unslung my knapsack, wedged myself into a sitting position among the close, dense boughs, and, in spite of the proximity of danger and a few stray mosquitoes, was asleep in two minutes. Had I descended the tree and camped on the ground, sleep must have been almost impossible on account of the insects. The blacks lit numerous tiny fires, or "smudges," to drive them off.

I awoke about an hour before dawn, stiff and chilled to the bone on account of my cramped, airy position, strapped my knapsack on my back, and descended the tree. There was a silence as of death in the blacks' camp. Taking my bearings, I made a wide detour and passed round them safely. After that I avoided the track as much as possible. I must have walked nearlythirty-five miles on the previous long day, but it should be borne in mind that it was one of continuous, determined toil.

I walked on steadily all that day, hardly pausing to rest, swimming flooded creeks and wading in places up to my armpits, but my progress was better than on the preceding day. I felt the pangs of hunger more keenly, but I continued drinking large quantities of water, and this, as I had often found before, to a certain degree stood me in good stead. At noon I came to a wild, broad water-course called Scrubby Creek, and I knew I was now within fifteen miles of my destination. I had been speculating all day as to the state of affairs at my camp—wondering if my men had deserted it, and if I should find it in the possession of the savages. If so, I should have to be wary in making my approach; I should have to follow the river down towards the sea and wait and starve until the boat came round. The prospect was not cheerful, but still I never for one moment allowed it to affect the course I was pursuing. If I failed, then I had done my level best to do what I could, and at least no soul-harrowing reflections would be mine.

I was just about to step into the swirling, hurrying current of Scrubby Creek when, happening to glance round, I saw something that made my heart throb wildly and arrested my further progress in an instant. A large number of savages were following me up, and there was not one of them but carried a spear or weapon of some sort in his hand. I wheeled about in an instant and drew my revolver, resolved to give them something more than they bargained for.

The blacks stopped short when they found they were discovered, and spread out in the form of a semicircle; then they closed in until, with theirwimmeras, they could make sure of throwing their spears with precision and effect. I waited until I also could make sure of my man, and then, as one of them drew back his arm to lever his spear home, I raised my revolver and fired. He dropped all of a heap, like a bullock that has been knocked on the head with an axe. A spear whizzed past me and buried itself in the thick bark of a ti tree close to my head. My blood was up, but I took deliberate aim, and the savage who had thrown it also bit the dust. At eighty yards my Colt was almost as deadly as a rifle. Somewhat taken by surprise, the blacks retired, and I emptied the remaining chambers of my revolver at them with effect. I even made to follow them up, reloading as I walked, and they actually broke and ran before me.

This was exactly what I wanted, and I seized my opportunity. I turned and dived into the brown, tawny-crested creek, and by vigorous side-strokes made for a narrow, island-like strip of wooded land that stood right in the middle of the stream. I had all but passed it when I caught hold of an overhanging bough and drew myself into a thick clump of reeds and undergrowth. I stood up to the arm-pits in water. There was now some seventy yards between me and the bank I had just left—about half the distance I had yet to accomplish. As I expected, the blacks, who had rallied, now appeared on the scene. Quick as thought I placed my soft-felt hat brim downwards on the water, and away it went sailing down that boiling torrent. The blacks saw it, and thought they had me now safely enough; they directed spear after spear at it, but I noticed that none of them took effect; they ran along the bank in a great state of excitement, shouting and skipping, and in a few minutes more were out of sight. If my hat would only continue to float it might lead them quite a nice little goose-chase.

I waited for some time, and was just about to strike out for the opposite shore when, to my no little surprise and chagrin, two of the savages returned. They went for some little distance up-stream, and then made straight for my little island. Evidently they had thought there was something suspicious about my hat. Only my mouth, eyes, nose, and my revolver-hand were above water now, and I waited for them to come on.

And what a wait that was! Every moment seemed an eternity. I could hardly control the intense longing that possessed me to be up and at them. But I knew I must bide my time and make sure of both, otherwise they could easily elude me in the water, attract the attention of the other blacks, and then it would be all up with me. I knew the chances of my coming out of that creek alive were very slight indeed; but life seemed sweet just then. Every now and again a little wave would unexpectedly dash over my face, and I would be nearly suffocated. Were these savages never going to reach me? The suspense was too terrible.

They reached my island and came down the narrow strip, prodding the undergrowth with their spears. In another second they were within a few yards of where I was ambushed. Both of them saw me at the same instant, and up went their spears. Fortunately, one was almost behind the other, and this interfered with their concerted action. I fired point-blank into the grinning face of the foremost savage, and he dropped where he stood; I saw the little round hole my bullet had made right in thecentre of his forehead. The flint spear-head of the second black ripped open my shirt and made an ugly gash in the fleshy part of my arm. He was within six feet of me, and I levelled my revolver at him and pulled the trigger. To my dismay the weapon snapped uselessly, and I realized that my last cartridge had been fired. In another moment that savage and I were wrestling together in deadly grips. Once he had me under water and I experienced all the first horrors of drowning, with the waters thundering in my ears. It was surely all up with me now! But by one supreme effort I pulled the rascal down, and then it was my turn. When I had done with him I knew he would give me no more trouble. Next I tore off part of my shirt into a long strip and bound it tightly round my injured arm in a rough-and-ready but effectual fashion. Then, with only one arm which was of any real use, I essayed to cross the remaining strip of hurrying flood. In a few minutes more I was on the other side, more dead than alive. Thank God! It was the last creek I had to cross.

"HE DROPPED WHERE HE STOOD."

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