"Call him back and let's make inquiries; see if he'll eat beef."
The chieftain approaching, Brown offered him a piece of salt beef. He examined it curiously, and then without any demur ate it in the most appreciative manner. He then pointed to Charlie, and made signs as though cutting with a knife, which for a time were quite unintelligible.
"Blessed if he doesn't mean to ask if you're good to eat," said Brown at last.
He shook his head, and the native appeared both surprised and disappointed. On their indicating their wish to proceed in the direction of the strange reports, he rose and led the way. The whites only took their carbines, as they felt assured that as yet their coming was too novel for the blacks to interfere with their belongings.
They had but a short distance to go. Rounding a rugged wall of basalt they saw stretched before them a singular and striking scene. At their feet was a large circular shallow depression, about a mile in circumference, filled with pools of clear water divided one from another by narrow ridges of rock. In the centre of this depression was a hill of small elevation with a flat top; not a vestige of green weed was to be seen about the water, nothing but bare rock. Without stopping, their guide led the way along one of the narrow strips of basalt intersecting the water.
"Keep your feet," said Morton, as they followed him, "for it strikes me that water's scalding hot."
Warned by this, the whites carefully continued their course to the central hill. Columbus mounted it, and then pointed down. They were on the edge of a crater. At no great distance below was a mass of seething boiling mud. The crater had lip-like fractures in various parts, and to one of these their guide now directed their attention, at the same time motioning to them to stand back from the edge. The water in the pool at the back of the lip was curiously ruffled; presently it assumed the appearance of boiling, and, rising suddenly, poured over the edge of the crater into the molten mud beneath. A deafening report followed, and the rocks on which the party crouched trembled again. Then came a rush of steam, and all was still once more. By a great effort the strangers had preserved their coolness, and looked on the display unmoved; then, in response to Brown, they discharged their carbines simultaneously, an act which nearly made Columbus topple into the crater.
Columbus takes a Fancy to Charlie—The Secret of the Limestone Cliff—A Feast of Cannibals—A White Man with the Blacks—Initiation of Recruits—Charlie makes a Proposition.
By the language of signs they were given to understand that the rocks through which they had found their way extended in every direction. Another low elevation a short distance away resembling a limestone cliff was noticed, but about this their guide, who had now recovered his composure, could, or apparently would, not afford them any information. After a more lengthened examination of the strange surroundings they returned to their camp in the open space, which they found deserted by the natives. Columbus, however, showed no signs of leaving them, and the whites, with due regard to strategic purposes, pitched their tent and made themselves as comfortable as circumstances allowed.
"The thing that puzzles me," said Brown, after all arrangements had been completed, "is—What do these natives live on? Columbus, whom we have feasted on strange dainties, shows no desire of leaving us; but the others are all away, evidently in search of grub. There are no gins visible; perhaps they are away hunting, but I doubt it, for within a hundred of miles of here there isn't a feed for a bandicoot."
"I don't understand it either," returned Morton, "but we'll stop and see it out, anyway. Charlie, our friend Columbus has taken quite a fancy to you; he can't keep his eyes off you."
Charlie looked very uncomfortable at the chaff, and muttered something about a "nigger's cheek"; but it was quite evident that the native had transferred all his admiration from Brown to Charlie.
Whilst still talking and discussing the situation a sound like a distant uproar of voices became apparent, and Columbus commenced to evince signs of uneasiness. The sound came from the direction of the limestone cliffs, and grew louder and more distinct as they listened. All the party naturally rose to their feet, although the native made energetic signs to them to keep quiet. After a short time the shouting became stationary, and it was evidently not intended as an attack upon them, or such loud warning would not have been given.
"Shall we go and see what's up?" said Morton.
"We'll fix the direction, anyway," returned Brown, and they proceeded to clamber up one of the high boulders by which they were surrounded, although Columbus evidently protested against the proceeding.
From the top of the boulder they could make out the summit of the limestone cliffs, and ascertained that the uproar certainly came from there, and, moreover, that the shrill cries of gins mingled with the many voices. It was well on towards sundown, and after a short conference Brown and Morton determined to defer further explorations until the next day, so they returned to their camp.
Columbus, who seemed much relieved by the proceeding, now made signs for Charlie to accompany him in the direction they had been just looking. At the same time he made it plainly apparent that Charlie was to come alone.
"I'll go, Frank," he said to Morton. "Let me go and have all the honour and glory."
Morton and Brown both replied in the negative, and Brown intimated to Columbus that to-morrow Charlie should go, but now it was nearly night and he wanted a sleep. This seemed to satisfy the blackfellow, who evidently wanted to get away himself, and presently, as soon as he thought the attention of the party was not directed towards him, he disappeared as mysteriously as he had arrived.
"I have not got to the bottom of this little affair yet," said Morton; "but I think we shall to-night. What do you say to paying a visit to these cliffs as soon as it is pitch dark—I have the bearing?"
"The very thing I was going to suggest. Charlie, it strikes me that our new friend wants to make long pig of you."
"What's that?" asked Charlie.
"Well, a favourite dish amongst some natives who have an acquired taste for human flesh."
"Do you think he's a cannibal?" said the boy, rather aghast.
"I should be sorry to slander a stranger, but it certainly looks something like it."
As soon as it was quite dark the party set out on their way to the cliffs, which they judged to be about a mile distant; it was a difficult matter shaping a course by the stars amongst the gloom cast by the surrounding boulders, but an occasional murmur of sound helped them on, and after scrambling and twisting about they found themselves near the low cliffs. Here Billy was told to strip and reconnoitre, and his black figure was lost amongst the rocks almost before he seemed to have made a step. He was absent nearly half an hour; then a subdued whistle announced his return, and in a low voice he communicated to Morton the result of his investigations.
About four or five hundred yards from where they were waiting there was a cave in the cliff, and the blacks it appears were in there. Billy had gone close to the entrance, but could see only a light in the distance, for, according to him, "hole bin go long way".
Under Billy's guidance they soon reached the cave entrance, and found it to be a kind of tunnel evidently leading to a large cave, for a red glare of firelight came round an angle, and the sound of many chattering voices was audible.
"Shall we go on?" said Morton in a whisper.
"No, wait a minute," replied Brown; "it strikes me there's another entrance to this place; they must have a lot of fire going, but yet the place is not full of smoke. I can smell the fire, but that's all. I think there must be an opening in the top; let's send Billy up to see."
The face of the cliff was easily climbed, being mostly detached rocks that had fallen down, and very soon Billy came back and reported that "fire come up alonga top".
One after the other the adventurers ascended, and found themselves on a rocky plateau full of fissures and holes, through some of which a bright light was streaming. Approaching this portion carefully on their hands and knees, they soon found a fissure through which they could gaze with safety on one of the strangest scenes ever witnessed in Australia.
The cavern below them was seemingly of some size, and was well lighted by a number of fires, the smoke from which somewhat annoyed the unseen spectators. A far larger number of blacks were assembled than had been visible before, and many of them were armed and painted, being also marked with the red smear and white triangle. One large group was composed of some twenty or thirty young men and women; they were huddled together, apparently much frightened, and had no marks whatever upon their bodies.
Columbus was soon recognized squatting at one of the fires with some of the other old men, and, like all but the group of boys and girls, busily engaged in eating. Morton felt his arm clutched suddenly and tightly, and Brown hoarsely whispered in his ear:
"It is meat they are eating; but what meat?"
Morton was struck with horror as he listened, and the truth flashed across his mind. It was a feast of cannibals they were overlooking. The armed natives had just returned from a foray, and the trembling group in the corner were prisoners destined to death.
An awful feeling of horror came over the whole party as they realized their situation and possible fate. In a wilderness of savage rocks, surrounded by an expanse of desert, almost in the hands of some fifty or sixty fierce cannibals—no wonder the first impulse of each was to slip quietly back the way he had come under cover of the night, and leave the natives to their former obscurity.
Their natural audacity, however, soon returned. At present they were masters of the situation; with their breech-loaders they could shoot down a score of the natives, helpless in the cavern below, if so inclined. But, with all their horror of the scene, affairs did not seem to justify armed intervention just then.
Contenting themselves with being spectators only, they watched the doings in the cave, at times having to stifle a cough brought on by a puff of smoke from the burning wood fires. For a time the repast below went on with the usual accompaniments of a blacks' camp, but as it came to an end it was evident that some extraordinary occurrence was going to take place. Gradually the old men mustered together around Columbus, and the other blacks proceeded to combine all the fires into one large one near the wall of the cavern. The added blaze gave to view a huge figure on the rock; it was the semblance of a human form, but the head, instead of being represented round, was grotesquely shaped liked a triangle. At the foot of the painting was a rock, and while the rank and file of the natives grouped themselves in a circle around the fire, Columbus and some others retired into the darkness out of sight of the watchers. The chant of acorroboreenow commenced, and the blacks slowly circled round the fire for a short time, suddenly ceasing and breaking into a half ring, with the open part towards the grim figure painted on the wall. Then Columbus and the others appeared, supporting between them a striking and venerable figure—an old, old man, with snow-white hair and beard, bent so double that, as he hobbled along supporting himself on two short sticks, he appeared like some strange animal walking on four legs. This decrepit being was carefully helped and guided to the stone beneath the figure, and seated thereon; then the others squatted on the ground, the blacks in the half ring remaining quietly standing.
The old man seated on the block was now full in view of the whites above, and the brilliant rays of the fire fell directly on him. Brown and Morton turned to each other with the same smothered exclamations on their lips:
"By Jove, it's a white man!"
Almost as dark as the savages around, painted like them with a hideous red smear on the forehead and a white triangle on the breast, the experienced whites yet felt sure that before them they saw one of their own race. Apparently the venerable being was either blind or nearly so, and he kept turning his face restlessly from side to side. From the half circle of blacks then arose a shout or chant that sounded like the repetition of "Mur! Fee! Mur! Fee!"
"Hullo! we're amongst countrymen," whispered Brown; "that sounds awfully like Murphy."
A terrible noise now commenced like a hundred mad gongs let loose. Four blacks came forward, beating furiously with clubs on what appeared to be sheets of metal. At the sound the old man on the rock smiled and leant forward, and, stretching forth his trembling hands, appeared to say something.
At this Columbus arose, and, followed by the gong-beaters, went over to the throng of trembling captives. After a short inspection he selected a young gin and pulled her along by the hand towards the old man, followed still by the gong-beaters. The poor wretch seemed stupefied with fear, and when in front of the stone she sank down, trembling visibly. Columbus drew back, and the gong-beaters, dancing madly round, made a still more deafening din. Suddenly one of them, instead of striking his gong, dealt the unfortunate creature a terrible blow on the head, the other gong-beaters followed his example, and in an instant the wretched gin lay dead on the ground.
The effect of this scene on the whites above was maddening. Charlie had his gun to his shoulder, but Morton stopped him in time. The gin was killed before interference was possible.
"Come away," said Brown; "let's have a confab. I'm sick of watching those brutes."
They scrambled away a short distance, and after a pause Brown spoke.
"We've got our work cut out, there's no doubt about that. We must find out all about that white man if possible, and we must release those poor devils and give these cannibals a lesson."
"In justice to our friend Columbus," said Morton, "let me remark that 'these cannibals' are only following up what they have been taught; they have no horror of the thing like we have. At the same time, the man who lifts his hand—or nulla nulla—against a woman is unworthy the name of a British sailor, &c. &c."
"Are you convinced that that is a white man?" said Charlie.
"Yes," replied Brown; "but who he is is another question. He appears to be blind, deaf, and imbecile. I suppose we must fall back upon Leichhardt."
"He's been a big man when younger, and erect," said Morton; "far bigger than Leichhardt was. However, we'll suppose it to be one of his party—he looks old enough."
Brown gave vent to a low whistle.
"By jingo, supposing that was 'Murphy' they were shouting. I believe there was a man of that name in the lost party."
"We shall find out, I hope, soon. Meantime, what next?"
"I know," said Charlie; "let's go back to camp. You promised Columbus I should go with him to morrow. Well, I'll go and find out all about it."
Morton put his hand on Charlie's shoulder.
"It's a real plucky bid, my boy, after what we've just seen; but do you think I could let you go? Why, you'd be cooked and eaten in no time."
"Hold on!" said Brown; "I'm full of ideas just now; let me think this one out; there's something in what Charlie says."
"Now, oracle, as soon as you're ready," returned Morton.
"Well, I may be right or wrong, but my notion is that Columbus does not want to eat Charlie. Why, they've got enough rations for a month. I think that they keep this old man as a sort of Fetich, and that Columbus and a few of the knowing old fellows see that he must soon die. Now they want Charlie to take his place."
Brown paused triumphantly.
"I verily believe you've hit it," said Morton. "You ought always to live here, considering the amount of intellect you are developing."
At this moment a renewed din once more pealed up from the cave, and the party crawled back to find out the cause. The gong-beaters, Columbus, and his privy councillors were parading the captives, and the spectators shuddered as they looked down upon hideous remains of the late feast scattered about the sandy floor of the cavern. This time a fine-looking young man was selected and marched up to the venerable figure on the stone. The gong-beaters fell back, and Columbus and his companions proceeded to smear the youth's forehead with red pigment, and marked the cabalistic white triangle on his breast. He was then led away to a dark corner out of sight of the watchers.
Brown muttered a deep oath.
"That's what has been puzzling me," he growled to Morton, "how they kept their numbers up; of course they recruit from the best-looking prisoners."
"See! they are going to select another," whispered his friend. "Bet you two figs of tobacco they choose that tall fellow with his hair tied in a knot."
"Done! I'll back the nuggety fellow alongside him."
Brown lost, the tall fellow being marched out to receive the marks of the cannibalistic brotherhood.
Columbus and the others now assisted the old man to hobble away, and the blacks squatted down by the fire and relit fresh ones about the ground.
"Get back to camp," said Morton; "the circus is over for to-night."
Scrambling down the cliff, and using every precaution, the party soon regained their camp, which they found as deserted as they left it.
Charlie as Decoy—Death of the old White Man—The Fight in the Cave—The Catastrophe.
Tired out with their exertions and the continued night work the party slept soundly, and awoke at dawn to find the camp as calm and silent as if no such tragedies as they had witnessed were ever enacted in the neighbourhood.
"Terribly sultry, is it not?" said Morton; "I suppose it is because these rocks retain the heat so."
"It seems in the air. Look what a haze there is. I don't think I ever felt it so hot at this time of day. What do you say to a walk to the crater after breakfast?"
Charlie called out just then that the meal was ready, and during its progress the plan of action for the day was discussed and agreed upon.
On arriving at the crater they found it in a great state of activity, most of the pools were in violent commotion, and constantly overflowing into the crater, causing a succession of reports.
Returning to the camp they found that Columbus and two or three of the old men had arrived, all looking as mild and gentle as if they habitually lived upon milk and water.
"Look at the old scoundrel," said Morton; "his mouth is watering to see us roasting on the coals."
"I think he only wants to get rid of us and to induce us to leave Charlie behind. Now let's try him," returned Brown.
Preparations were then apparently made for departure, Charlie intimating to Columbus that he intended to go with him. The native appeared hugely delighted, and when the time for departure arrived neither he nor the others could restrain their expressions of joy. With their swags on their shoulders Morton, Brown, and Billy strode off along the track by which they had come, ostentatiously waving their hands to Charlie.
No sooner, however, were they hidden from the camp than Morton and Billy slipped aside amongst the rocks, whilst Brown plodded steadily on, making as much noise as possible. For nearly a quarter of a mile he kept his course, and then stepped on one side and stood quietly behind a boulder. After five minutes' waiting the sound of footsteps was heard, and a native came along, evidently following the track to make sure that the white men left the place, for he was unarmed and alone. He was close up before he saw Brown, and then with a frightened cry sprang away; but he was too late. Brown had hold of him, and exerting all his uncommon strength threw him heavily down amongst the rocks, where he lay stunned and quiet. Brown waited patiently for some time, but nothing could be heard; evidently one native only had been sent to watch them away.
Leaving his swag in a secure hiding-place, Brown then cautiously directed his course towards the limestone cliff, using every precaution to escape being seen. He arrived in sight of the mouth of the cave after a toilsome journey, and after cautiously reconnoitring gave a low whistle. There was no answer, but voices could be heard approaching, and peering carefully out Brown saw Columbus, Charlie, and three other old men emerge from among the rocks and enter the cave. At the same moment a low whistle sounded near him, to which he instantly replied, and in a few minutes Morton and Billy came creeping silently along and joined him.
"It's splendid," said Morton. "Columbus took Charlie on one side amongst the rocks, then he gave a signal and all the blacks came along the track and squatted down in the open space where we were camped. Columbus and three old men then went away with Charlie, whom they carefully kept hidden, and I think those are all we have to deal with; so come along, for I can't bear to let that boy stop alone with them long, although I think he's safe enough."
"We'll just rush the four of them, and then take our time examining the place and the white man—is that it?" said Brown; "but how we're to get away afterwards I can't make out."
"We must trust to chance and our rifles; I think we can manage. But come quick."
Noiselessly they stole along the narrow entrance that led into the inner cave, and cautiously peered in to be sure of their ground before making their attack; the prisoners were there and the three old men, but Columbus and Charlie were absent. "Quick!" whispered Brown, and sprang forward on to one, while Morton felled the other with a nulla nulla[1a] he had picked up. The third made a bolt for the entrance, uttering a shrill yell as he did so, but Billy, whether through sudden fright or not, fired his carbine at him and the black dropped dead.
Startled by the yell and report, Columbus came rushing from a dark corner of the cave; his eyes were flashing, and all the cannibal in his nature seemed aroused.
"Hit this fellow on the head!" roared Brown, releasing his struggling prisoner and grappling with the new foe.
Morton dealt the native a stunning blow with the waddy,[1b] and then turned to assist his comrade. Strong as Brown was, it would have been hard work for him to subdue the infuriated Columbus without assistance. Between them they got him down and bound him with straps.
[1a][1b] A native club of hard wood.
"Now for Charlie!" cried Morton, turning in the direction of the dark corner. "Something must have happened to him."
"I'm all right, old man; come with me." And Charlie showed himself at the entrance of another and inner cave.
First stopping to tell Billy to wait and watch the prisoners, and shoot them if they attempted to escape, the two friends followed their young companion, leaving a strange scene behind them—Billy Button on guard at the entrance of the passage, the savages prostrate on the ground, and the captives for the cannibal feast, who had preserved a frightened apathy throughout, still huddled together.
In a smaller cave than the one they had just quitted, lighted like it through fissures from above, the three whites found the old man seated on the sandy floor, gazing with his half sightless eyes at the unaccustomed figures, for thus much could he apparently discern. In a hasty whisper Charlie confided to them that he had been speaking to him, and thought he could make him hear.
"Try again," said Morton eagerly.
Charlie stooped down and shouted in the old man's ear, "Englishman! White man!"
A faint gleam of intelligence seemed to illuminate the poor creature's face, and he pointed eagerly forward with trembling hands. The friends followed the direction of his hands, and saw a heap of objects piled in a dusky corner of the cavern, and Brown strode forward to examine them. The attention of the other two was confined to the ancient white man, who seemed strangely moved. He tried to rise and speak, but could only struggle ineffectually. It was awful to watch his convulsed features, and think what secrets he carried hidden in his breast, secrets that time had forbidden him to reveal. At last with panting effort he half rose up, and with a quavering hoarse voice cried distinctly:
"Yes! Englishman! White man!" and with a choking gasp fell back dead.
Awe-struck and startled the whites looked at the body of the unfortunate man who had dragged out such a long term of existence amongst savages. Not a doubt was in their minds but that they were gazing on one of the survivors of Leichhardt's lost party, whose fate had long been such a mystery. Now the very shock of their coming seemed to have shaken the last sands of life out, and he had died before their eyes with the story of the past untold.
"Look!" said Charlie, stooping gently over the body and indicating the swarthy breast.
There, almost undecipherable by reason of the darkened colour of the skin, was the tatooed mark of a rude anchor.
Suddenly their meditations were interrupted by a series of frantic yells from the outside cave, and the report of a rifle. Rushing out, the cause was instantly explained. Billy's attention had wandered to one of the lady captives, and Columbus had, unobserved by him, freed himself from the hastily-tied straps. The first thing Billy knew about it was a blow from a club, and the back view of a figure flying up the entrance-passage, at whom he hastily and vainly fired, as was pretty evident by the fierce shouts of Columbus outside, calling his comrades to him.
"Get your cartridges ready; we must fight for all we're worth," cried Brown.
Almost as he spoke there was a rush of flying feet and a roar of voices at the entrance.
"Fire like blazes!" ordered Morton, setting an example, which was followed by the others, until the white smoke nearly filled the cavern. Madly and fanatically the natives dashed up the narrow passage; but with four breech-loaders playing on them, the terrible, unknown lightning and deafening thunder smiting their foremost down, two and three at a time, the attempt was hopeless; they fell back, and for a moment or two there was silence.
"Top! Top! Look out!" suddenly screamed Billy, and none too soon.
Clambering up the cliff the blacks were on the plateau forming the roof of the cave, and were forcing their way down through the many cracks and fissures. Hastily abandoning their position, the whites had scant time to escape into the open air over the bodies of those they had shot down. Here, to their astonishment, they found themselves unopposed by the cannibals, who had all made for the top of the cliff to gain entrance into the cave.
"What's up, Brown?" cried Morton; "you look like a ghost! Are you hit?"
"No, I don't think so, but I feel queer, and you look sick. For Heaven's sake come over to the rocks, quick!"
An awful feeling of nausea and giddiness suddenly and strangely attacked them all. Reeling to the rocks in front of the cavern they threw themselves down in what shade they could find, utterly regardless of their enemies.
The air was pulsating with fiery heat, the reports from the crater followed each other with scarce any interval, and the earth seemed rocking beneath them. From the mouth of the cavern issued a melancholy wail, the death-chant over the dead white man.
By a great effort Morton rallied himself, for it suddenly flashed across him what was going to happen.
"Come on!" he shouted, staggering to his feet and making to where an overhanging boulder afforded some slight shelter. With difficulty the others followed him. As they crouched down, completely unmanned, they felt the ground tremble violently; then came a terrific report, as if the very rocks were rent asunder, and the air was filled with blinding steam and scalding mud.
Dead silence reigned for nearly ten minutes, then Brown gave a deep sigh and raised his head.
"All aboard!" he cried out. "Anybody hurt?"
One by one they answered, stood up, and looked around.
"Pretty warm while it lasted," said Morton; "that's an experience one does not get every day. Those fellows in the cavern were best off."
"Were they?" cried Brown excitedly. "Great Scott! Look there!"
He pointed to the brow of the cliff, and they all saw what had happened. The mouth of the cavern had disappeared, and the shape of the cliff was changed. The earth-tremor they had just experienced had brought down the roof of the cave, and their late enemies and their wretched captives lay buried beneath countless tons of rock.
The death-wail they had heard had been the death-wail of a whole tribe. The cannibals and their victims were in one common tomb.
"And the secret of that white man lies buried there too," said Morton, after a long pause.
"No, I hope not," replied Brown. "I brought something away from that heap the old man pointed to;" and from the bosom of his shirt he drew out an old-fashioned leather pocket-book.
No one was anxious to examine the contents just then; they were all in a hurry to get back to camp and quench their thirst, and away from the scene of their late adventure. No apparent change had taken place in the surroundings of their camp, and they made a fire and sat down to rest and eat.
"Poor old Columbus!" said Morton. "I cannot help feeling sorry for the old ruffian. He was a real plucky fellow. Do you remember how coolly he walked in to us the morning we got here?"
"Yes, and after all we had no business—according to their ideas—to interfere with their little rites and ceremonies. They treated us in a friendly fashion."
"After all, however, things turned up trumps for us. We would not have had the ghost of a show in a fight amongst these boulders. No, we must thank that earth-tremor for being alive now."
After their meal was over and the four somewhat rested, Morton proposed a stroll to the crater to see how it had fared, for not a single report had been heard since the one accompanying the eruption of mud.
A wondrous change had taken place, they found. The crater, or what they had taken for one, had subsided, and over its site now flowed an unbroken sheet of water. The mud on the boulders and the turbid condition of the water were the only signs of the late convulsion of nature.
"And so," said Brown, "the burning mountain, such as it was, is gone for good, and we are the only white men living who have seen it, who will now ever see it."
"That's so," commenced Morton, when he was interrupted by a footstep from behind. They all turned hastily.
Scarred, bleeding, and burnt, a most miserable object, there stood Columbus, the only survivor of his tribe. He looked abjectly and imploringly at the whites—apparently it was to their power he attributed the disaster that had happened,—and came forward with a crushed and broken air, gazing woefully at the space where the crater had been.
Brown beckoned, and the blackfellow came up to them.
Just then Charlie and Billy called out loudly that the water was sinking. It was true: the muddy water was rapidly falling, and a whirlpool was forming in the middle, as though some cavity in the earth had been opened by the late convulsion. Silently they all watched the water as it swirled round quicker and quicker, and a harsh scream went up from it. In less than half an hour the hole was empty, save for a misty vapour that arose. This cleared away, and the bottom of the hole lay bare—a chaotic jumble of boulders coated with mud, and in the centre a dark rift, as though the crater formation had sunk down bodily.
"Anyone feel inclined to go down there?" said Morton.
"Not just at present," replied Brown; "we'll let it cool off a bit first."
The disappearance of the water seemed to put the final blow on the shattered Columbus. He followed them readily to the camping-ground, where they gave him some food, which he ate ravenously, although it made the whites shudder to see him, when they remembered what his last meal had been.
In spite of what they had gone through, they were all too anxious to get out of the gloomy desert of barren rocks to defer their departure, and at sundown they started back for the lagoons. The ex-chief accompanied them, as they thought they could make him useful in furthering their future discoveries.
They arrived at their camp early the next day tired out, but right glad to get back to more cheerful surroundings. Their horses were feeding quietly about the place, having enjoyed a better time of it than their masters, and everything else was just as they had left it. They endeavoured to extract from Columbus the story of his escape, and after much misunderstanding managed to worry out, that when he found the white man dead he thought that the other white men had killed him, and rushed out after them. As soon as he got outside he was struck down and knew no more, excepting that all the others must have been buried under the fall of rock.
"How about those fellows who were sent back after the corpse?" suddenly said Morton.
Further questioning elicited from Columbus that six men had gone back, and by the signs he used it was evident that they had not yet returned.
"By Jove, I never thought of them!" said Brown. "Lucky they did not come along and spear our horses while we were away."
Deciphering the Contents of the Pocket-book—An Exciting Discovery—Another Survivor of Leichhardt's Party, perhaps still living with a Tribe to the Westward—Charlie makes another Proposal.
As their camp was in every way a good one, and they wanted leisure to decide on their future movements, they determined to remain where they were for a few days.
Brown and Morton set themselves to sort out the contents of the old pocket-book, and Charlie and Billy went fishing and shooting, diversifying their sport with attempts at teaching Columbus to ride.
The pocket-book was found to contain many pages of faded writing, which would evidently take some time to decipher. Some parts were still legible enough, others had suffered mutilation and damage from water and smoke. Fortunately the handwriting appeared to be that of an educated man, so that once they got accustomed to it they would be able to piece it together with a fair amount of ease.
It took them nearly all day to sort the leaves out into the proper sequence of dates, and in doing so they gained a rough idea of the contents. They found that the journal was written by one of three survivors of Dr. Leichhardt's party, named Stuart. He and two others (Kelly and Murphy) had been living for some time with a tribe of friendly blacks to the westward. Kelly had been killed during a fight with the cannibal tribe whose annihilation they had witnessed. The journal recorded up to the death of Kelly and a few weeks beyond, but gave no clue to the subsequent life or fate of the survivors. One of them, Brown and Morton agreed, was the old white man who had died in the cave, but they did not believe that he was the writer of the journal. It was more likely to have been written by Stuart, and the fate of this man greatly excited their curiosity and sympathy. Was he still living with the friendly tribe to the westward?
This question, they felt with sorrow, must be answered in the negative. The presence of his companion, the old white man, evidently a prisoner amongst the cannibals for years, and the strangely preserved unfinished journal, pointed conclusively to another fight, the probable death of Stuart, and the capture of Murphy.
"But," suggested Morton hopefully, "those captives they brought in possibly came from this friendly tribe, which proves that they are still in existence. Why should not Stuart be yet amongst them?"
"I hope so, but cannot think it likely," said Brown. "What sort of a man should you think him to be by the rough idea we have of his journal?"
"A good, self-reliant man."
"Exactly. And I think that if he was still alive he would have trained his tribe up to fight these cannibals, and probably have wiped them out before now and rescued his comrade."
"I must confess that your reasoning sounds conclusive enough, but I won't give up the hope of finding him alive."
"Nor I, although it is hoping against hope."
"We must try and find out from Columbus whether this last batch of victims came from Stuart's tribe; he might know whether he is dead or alive."
That evening Columbus, who had had several spills during his riding-lessons, much to Billy's delight, was interrogated about the tribe to the westward. It came out that there were two tribes which the cannibals harassed, one to the south and one to the west. To the north Columbus intimated that there were no natives. The last raid had been made on the tribe to the westward, who lived by a lake. Further examination elicited the fact that Murphy had been brought from there a long, long time ago; also, that another white man was there who had killed a lot of cannibals and frightened them; but that was also long ago, and now they had been there two or three times and not seen him. They learnt also that he went about everywhere, for he was with the tribe to the south one time when they went there, and had killed some of them there. The southern tribe lived near a mountain.
This was the extent of the information which, after much puzzling on both sides, was gleaned from the cannibal chief.
It rather complicated matters. Was Stuart to the west or south? Which way would they go first? On going into the subject again it appeared that the way to the south was the easier; to the west, as was evident by Stuart's journal, a long stage of dry desert country had to be crossed.
"At any rate," said Morton, "we have a couple of days to think it over. We must make a legible transcription of that journal, and I propose that we make two copies; I will keep one, Charlie another, and you, Brown, stick to the original. This will ensure us somewhat against accident."
"Can I go and explore that hole where the crater disappeared while you're busy at that?" said Charlie.
"Go by yourself?" asked Morton.
"No. I'll take Billy and Columbus."
"And supposing these missing men, the six sent to take the corpse to the cemetery, turn up while you are in amongst the rocks? What chance would you and Billy have, especially if Columbus went over to their side?"
"I'd take care Columbus didn't turn traitor," said Charlie viciously.
"What do you say, Brown?" inquired Morton. "Shall we let Charlie go?"
"How do you propose getting down the hole?" asked Brown.
"We can climb down," returned Charlie.
"I don't think you'll find either Billy or Columbus go far with you," said Morton. "If we had any sort of a rope I should not mind, but there's nothing but the tent-line, and that's not strong enough."
"I'll take great care," pleaded Charlie.
"No doubt you will, but if you make a slip and flop down some thirty or forty feet, no amount of care will get you back again with sound bones."
Charlie looked unconvinced.
"We could keep a look-out for the absent natives," said Brown. "They are bound to come along this track, I suppose."
"Could not Columbus make some sort of a mark to stop them?"
"I'm afraid not. Blacks can communicate in some way—you have seen their 'yabber-sticks', I suppose,—but I don't think we could make Columbus understand what we wanted, nor do I suppose he would do it if we could."
"Strange how they can communicate, though. The time Faithful's party were murdered in Victoria, the blacks in the settled districts knew of it long before the whites did."
"Well, can I go or not?" demanded Charlie.
"I'll sleep on it," replied Morton. "I think you can take care of yourself, and I can trust Billy as far as one can trust a blackfellow. But remember, I am responsible for you, and if anything happened to you I should be to blame."
With this Charlie had to content himself until the next morning.
Morton and Brown stopped up late, smoking by the fire.
"Shall you let the boy go?" asked Brown.
"I think so, but I'm doubtful of those fellows behind; they might slip past us in the dark and fall foul of Charlie when he was not expecting them. If they had fair play Charlie and Billy could hold their own, but they might take them at a disadvantage in amongst those boulders."
At this moment a wailing cry in the distance made them both start. The cry exactly resembled the mourning lamentations they had heard in the scrub.
"That settles one part of the question," said Brown. "Those fellows are on their way back. Kick old Columbus up and get him to answer them."
Morton promptly roused the slumbering chieftain, and when he heard the approaching cry he at once answered it. Then he went out to meet them. Apparently he soon told them all about the catastrophe that had taken place, for presently a great cry went up. Columbus soon after appeared, leading them into the firelight. Six truculent-looking ruffians they were, but it was evident that Columbus had impressed them with a due respect for the power of the whites, to whose anger he attributed the misfortune that had befallen their tribe, for they all wore a very humble and downcast air.
Charlie, who had come out of the tent on hearing the noise, gave them some food, and they made a fire apart and squatted beside it, Columbus being cautioned against allowing them to sneak off during the night. As the blacks were unarmed, and they now had all the survivors under their direct observation, no watch was kept, and the late enemies soon slept soundly without any misgivings.
Stuart's Journal—News of the Missing Expedition—Charlie Departs.
Next morning Morton told Charlie that, as the natives had turned up, he could go and explore the site of the crater, but he must be back within three days. Columbus was made to understand that the six blacks were to remain in the camp, otherwise they would share the fate of their countrymen. As there was a good supply of game, fish, ducks, and pigeons, they could easily live without trespassing on the rations of the whites. As Charlie was not to leave before an hour or so before sundown, he had ample time to make his preparations. Meantime the others went seriously to work transcribing the journal, which took them the greater part of the day.
The result of their labours was as follows:—
Stuart's Journal.
"September, 1848.—We have been fortunate in striking a well-watered river, but—" (Here there was a portion mutilated.)
"September 12.—Still these aimless journeys to the westward, across plains, barren and waterless, and which are so loose and cracked that every time we make an attempt we lose some of our animals. Fortunately, we have this fine river running north and south to fall back on. The men are very discontented, and the prospect ahead is anything but bright.
"September 16.—Two more horses knocked up by this obstinate pushing into an impassable desert. Klausen and I must remonstrate seriously to-night.
"September 18.—Thank Heaven, we managed to make the Doctor see his folly, and we are now on the move north to get on to his old track and work round that way. Everything going on much smoother.
"September 20.—Country still well watered, and travelling easy; expect soon to—" (Here the journal was undecipherable to the end of the page, and the succeeding one was dated more than a month ahead.)
"November 2.—We are still on the Doctor's first track round the foot of the Gulf; but although there is ample feed and water our horses are falling away, and do not look as well as they did in the dry country.
"November 3.—Had some trouble with the natives yesterday when crossing a small river. We had to fire twice at them before they ran away. Klausen was speared in the arm with a barbed spear, which had to be cut out."
(Here there was another gap where the journal had been mutilated.)
"December 15.—We are still camped on the river, which the Doctor called 'The Roper' on his first trip. Klausen's arm prevents our moving. Inflammation has set in and I am afraid he will die. Blacks very troublesome.
"December 16.—Klausen died last night; we buried him this morning. We now leave the Doctor's old Port-Essington track and follow this river up, south and west.
"December 20.—Getting into dry country again, and the scrub is becoming very bad. We are scarcely able to force a way through on foot—"
(Here, for many pages, the journal was so mutilated and discoloured by water that only an occasional line was intelligible. These seemed to point to the party being constantly baffled by scrub and dry country; and also that some of them were attacked by scurvy.)
"You've been in Queensland, Brown?" said Morton when they arrived at this stage in their transcription. "How do you follow out this journal?"
"As plain as print. Stuart's journal—at least the part we have—commences on what is now known as the Diamantina River, I think. The great dry plains he speaks of are to the westward of that river, and in a dry season would be impassable to anyone not knowing the country. By following the river up they would easily cross the watershed on to the Gulf of Carpentaria waters, and so get on to Leichhardt's old track."
Brown got a map out of the pack and illustrated thereon what he had just said.
The next coherent portion of the journal would seem to have been written after a disaster.
"April 24th, 1849.—There are now only five of us left; two—Hentig and the Doctor—are both sick. The other two must have died on the dry stage, as they have not come in here and the blacks would not let them go back. I have not been able to write my journal for some days, and as the Doctor cannot write now, no record at all has been kept. We were just packing up to leave the rocky water-hole in the scrub where we had been camped for some days, when the blacks attacked us on all sides. There were so many of them, and they had such good cover in the scrub, that we fairly had to get away as best we could without water, or all of our packs. While we were trying to keep them off a gun burst and nearly shattered the Doctor's hand. This forced us to hasten our retreat to get him safely away, leaving some of our horses and mules behind. Immediately on getting out of the scrub we found ourselves in open stunted forest, covered with prickly grass. We kept to the south-west until evening and then camped for a while, for the Doctor and Hentig could go no further. We had travelled very slowly, and when we camped Kelly asked me how far I thought we had come. I told him about ten miles. He then proposed that we should take the freshest horses and go back and try and get some water, as even if the blacks were camped at the hole they would be asleep at the time we got there. I agreed with him, for it seemed hopeless to go on through this dry forest without water. I suggested, however, that we should take all the animals and Murphy, and if possible give the blacks a fright. Leaving the two others to look after the sick men and keep a fire going, we started, and were singularly fortunate. We got back soon after midnight and found the blacks camped by the water-hole. They were asleep, having been feasting on the horses we were forced to abandon. Some awoke, however, and we immediately rushed into the camp, shouting and firing. They fled indiscriminately, leaving most of their weapons behind, and these we heaped on the fires. We were lucky enough to find two big kegs we had abandoned, and filling these and all the canteens we had brought, we started back as soon as possible before the natives recovered from their scare. We reached camp soon after sunrise, and but for the success of our raid none of us would be alive now, for that dry forest continued without change or break, day after day. We hoarded up some of the water for the sick men and managed to keep them on their horses, but I remember nothing of the last day, nor how the other two parted from us. Murphy says they went after what they insisted was a smoke, but he says it was only a whirlwind passing over burnt country. Kelly found this water-hole through seeing two white parrots coming from this direction early in the morning. It is on the edge of the forest, and to the west lies a great plain, still covered with the same prickly grass. There is a little coarse grass for the few beasts we have now left, but the water in the hole is thick and muddy and fast drying up.
"April 25th.—We have been back to try and find the other two men, but without success; we must stay here—"
(Another break in the narrative here came in, the paper seemingly having been scorched by fire.)
As it was now getting on for the hour when Charlie's departure on his trip was to take place, the two men knocked off their work and assisted him to get away. Fortunately, having Columbus with them, they were enabled to lighten the packs considerably, as they made him carry his share. Morton parted with his young relation with some misgiving—still he liked his pluck, and did not care to baulk him. By the time the sun disappeared the three of them were mere specks in the distance of the great plain.
The six natives seemed quite contented to stay where they were, but both Morton and Brown determined to keep a sharp eye on them. If they discovered them trying to make for the rock-plain they could easily overtake them on horseback before they could cross. However, they were there in the morning, and Brown and Morton settled down to the continuation of the journal.
Continuation of Stuart's Journal.
The narrative now assumed a more connected form, telling of the death of Dr. Leichhardt and the rescue of the three survivors by the friendly natives; also of the discovery by Stuart of some curious cave paintings, which bore evidence of being the work of a race superior to the present inhabitants of the interior.
Continuation of Stuart's Journal.
"——Ever since the Doctor injured his hand through the musket bursting he has been subject to attacks of feverishness and temporary madness, and this has greatly added to the hopelessness of our position. I have often asked him for some definite statement of his intentions, but he seems quite unable to go into any details, and I am afraid we are fearfully out in our reckoning. Hentig still terribly bad with scurvy.
"May 1, 1849.—Since my last entry we have buried Hentig, and the Doctor must soon follow. If we could only get across this dry country ahead of us we might be able to move on, but since we are almost without rations and most of our horses dead it seems as though we must leave our bones here, for there is no turning back. Doctor much worse. Kelly says that there is only two days' more water left in the hole. No sign of rain. Weather getting cooler."
THE DEATH OF DR. LEICHHARDT IN THE DESERT.THE DEATH OF DR. LEICHHARDT IN THE DESERT.
"May 2.—This morning, before the sun got up, I climbed the tall tree on the edge of the plain, and distinctly saw a faint smoke to the westward, in the same direction that Kelly thought he noticed it when we first came here. To-morrow we will start towards it; it is all we can do. How we shall get the Doctor on I cannot tell; he is almost helpless, and his mind is quite gone. We have four horses and two mules. Besides the Doctor, whom I look upon as a dead man, there are Kelly, Murphy, and myself (Stuart). Hentig is buried under the tree with the cross cut on it. Klausen died on the river Roper five months ago. I will bury a copy of this in a powder-flask in Hentig's grave, as well as the Doctor's papers."
(Here there was an evident gap in the narration.)
"I have been too ill to write for many days, how long I don't know, for we have all of us lost count. I am only just beginning to remember our journey across that horrible desert. We started in the direction I had seen smoke, after using up every drop of water for the animals at the camp where Hentig is buried. We took it in turns to hold the Doctor on his horse, but he got very bad a few hours after we started, and when the sun grew hot he begged us to lift him off the horse for a little while. We had all the canteens full, and Kelly had made a bag of calico and rubbed it outside with goat's fat, and it held water tolerably well. So we gave the Doctor plenty to drink, but he got no better, and about noon he died. He talked a good deal to himself in German, but had lost all knowledge of us or where he was, and a good thing too. We could not stop to bury him, for we had to push on, so we left him there on the big plain, where I think no living thing ever comes or ever will come since we were there. It was the second day out when we got on to that prickly grass plain with deep red sand, and then our horses began to give up, and we had to walk and try and drive all the beasts; but they were so thirsty they would not keep together, so we stopped and talked about what was best to be done. Kelly and I agreed that it was best to unpack all the animals, and, taking all the water and as much food as we could carry, to march on, and perhaps if we soon came to water we could come back for the beasts. Murphy did not think so; he thought we could drive them on on foot when it got dark, but we persuaded him that we were right, and started. We walked on long after it got dark, and then we lay down and slept on the sandy plain amongst the prickly grass, for since leaving the camp we have never passed a tree. In the night Kelly called me and pointed to a light in the west, which was evidently the reflection of a large fire. Next morning we met it, for a wind had sprung up in the morning. It was well for us that it was almost barren country where we met the flames, otherwise we would have been burnt. As it was we were nearly stifled with heat and smoke. Afterwards, all that day and night, we watched the glare of it behind us blazing amongst the dry prickly grass we had passed through, carried on by the strong wind that now blew, and we knew that our animals, saddles, and the Doctor's body would be burnt up, and no one would ever see more of them; so it was with sorrowful hearts we walked on. That day I saw some trees on ahead, and we turned—"
(Here the journal had been effaced, apparently by water, but nothing of importance appeared lost.)
"Murphy was the weakest, but we stood by him, although the burnt country was very distressing. Kelly got a little light-headed towards morning, and I began to feel the same. I don't remember much more; it all seems a dream of stumbling along and helping each other, sometimes talking to the phantoms we all fancied we saw walking with us; and then I came partly to my senses under a rough shade of boughs, and before me was this great lake, and I knew by the smell of the place and almost without looking around that I was in a camp of the natives. Kelly and Murphy were alive, and better than I was. They remembered something about the natives helping us to the water, for we had passed it, and were going right away—"
(Another gap.)
"June.—I have put down June, for I think it must be that time of the year, as near as I can make it. Neither Kelly nor Murphy can read or write, so while I was ill they did not keep the dates. The natives are quite friendly, and Kelly, who was born in the bush of the southern portion of the colony, has attained great influence over them, as he is very active, and can use nearly all their weapons. I have been round the lake; it is nearly sixty miles round, but very shallow, except at the end where our camp is. The natives tell me it dries up some seasons, with the exception of the deep hole here. They have canoes made out of shells of trees, and can manage them very well, standing upright and poling or sculling with a spear. They know nothing of any other blacks, excepting a tribe to the eastward, of whom they seem greatly frightened. They are a very simple people, and live well, as there is plenty of fish in the lake and wild fowl. Kelly and Murphy have quite settled down to the life, but how different it is for me! When I think of my own people, and how I am doomed to live and die amongst savages, I nearly go mad; for unless other white men find their way here I must die here; and who would cross that horrible sand plain? If the Doctor had but lived we might have found some way of escape, but he and our horses and saddles are all burnt up. What is the good of keeping this record? No one will ever read it. I will become a savage like those around me, and forget what I was.
"July.—I must write or I shall forget my language, and that I must keep while life lasts. A strange thing happened to-day. The old man Powlbarri came to me and made me understand that he wanted me to go with him, he had something to show me. I followed him to the ridge where the great sandstone rocks are, and he led through a gap between two of them so narrow that we could scarcely squeeze along. In a short time we stood in a spacious cave that penetrated seemingly into the depths of the ridge. There was a bar of limestone in the side and a few stalactites, but not many, and light was admitted dimly through cracks and crevices overhead. But when my eyes were more accustomed to the light I started with affright, for partly overhead and partly confronting me was a strange gigantic shape with outstretched hand. I recoiled for an instant, and then saw how I had been deceived; it was a rock painting on the sloping roof of the cave. It bore no resemblance to the ordinary crude tracings of the natives. I looked at it narrowly, and tried to get out of the old man who did it. He gave me to understand that it had been always there—as well as I could comprehend him,—longer than the blacks knew of. The figure was of heroic size, with straight symmetrical features, the head surrounded by a halo or turban, and the body attired in a rough semblance of a robe. The whole figure was of grave aspect, and much reminded me of the drawings I had seen of Egyptian gods. The old man beckoned to me to withdraw, and I was not sorry to do so, for I wanted time to think, and intended to come back with Kelly and Murphy and explore the place thoroughly. We passed out of the cave, and had just squeezed through the gap when our ears were greeted with a shrill discordant yell of terror from the camp. With an answering shout my companion with extraordinary agility bounded from my side, and I ran after him. There was little doubt what had happened; the dreaded tribe from the east had surprised and attacked the camp. When I arrived on the scene the fight was just assuming extensive proportions. At first the boys, gins, and old men had been easily overpowered, some killed and some captured; but a hunting-party came up, amongst whom were my two companions, who now went naked, and were nearly as dark as the natives. Kelly, who would have made a brave and dashing soldier if fate had so willed, plunged at once into the thick of the fray, followed by Murphy, who was slower in his movements. There appearance disconcerted the enemy, who were horribly distinguished by a red smear on the forehead and a white triangle on the breast. They rallied, however, but Kelly's onset, so different from the ordinary method of native warfare, had evidently staggered them. I was about to join our side when I remembered that nearly the only part of our equipment saved was my double-barrelled pistol and ammunition bag. This I had never used, reserving it for our own protection, and I ran to my whirlie and came back with it loaded. A tall blackfellow was engaged with Kelly, and rushing up I fired at and shot him. There was an instantaneous lull of surprise, and at the discharge of the other barrel the attackers straightway fled, and even our own side seemed inclined to follow their example. Alas, our victory was dearly bought! Kelly was speared through the chest, mortally I saw at once; and so it turned out, for the poor boy died with his head on my knee in a few minutes. We buried him that evening, and never did I feel more sorry than for my bright young companion, who, although uneducated, had many noble qualities, and—"
(Here there was a large portion of the journal quite undecipherable; the few words distinguishable seem to point to a visit to the cave with Murphy.)
"The strange mystery of the cave paintings still puzzles me. The additional smaller drawings we discovered are most singular, and certainly point to other authorship than that of the natives. In many places there are signs like a written language, and the peculiar portrayal of dress indicates an Asiatic origin."
(Another gap.)
"I miss Kelly still. Murphy is dull and intractable; he has sunk to the level of his savage companions. O God, have pity on me, for I shall never never see my countrymen again! Surrounded by deserts, impassable to me on foot, I must drag out my life here, hoping for the succour that will come too late to save me."
(Here the narrative broke off, although several more blank leaves in the pocket-book were available.)
Charlie's Adventure.
"Well," said Brown, "which is it to be? South or west?"
"According to Columbus, Stuart was down with the southern tribe the last time they saw him, which is apparently many years ago."
"And he says that the road to the southern tribe is the easier to travel. I think we ought to go there first."
"Then tackle the western lot. We must thoroughly examine those caves he speaks of."
"Yes, the horses are in fine hard condition now; we will make a start as soon as Charlie comes back."
"We ought to go round by Hentig's grave and recover those papers."
"We have got our work cut out. Lucky we brought a good supply of rations."
The six niggers appeared to have settled down contentedly to await the return of Columbus. They were not at all intelligent, and both men failed in getting any further information from them.
"What's to become of these beggars when we leave?" said Brown. "We must take Columbus with us to show us the best road."
"There's plenty of game here, and up and down the water-course they will be able to earn an honest living," returned Morton. "There's not enough of them to resort to their cannibal practices again."
"I sha'n't be sorry when Charlie comes back; I am tired of doing nothing."
The time appointed for Charlie's return drew near without any sign of the three men. Morton watched the plain all day, finding it impossible to conceal his anxiety, and blaming himself for having allowed the boy to go.
At last, not long before sundown, a solitary figure was seen approaching. Morton eagerly snatched up the glasses.
"Columbus. And alone," said he, putting the glasses down with a sigh.
The two friends waited anxiously for the approach of the native. Instinctively they felt that some disaster must have happened.
As soon as Columbus was within hearing he commenced howling dismally, and the six others answered him, lamenting in a loud voice. This was kept up at intervals until Columbus reached the camp. Without waiting to be questioned, he held up two fingers and pointed down to the ground. Charlie and Billy were evidently in trouble somewhere underground. Brown indicated that they would go out there, which was evidently what Columbus wanted.
"We must take all the surcingles," said Brown; "they will bear Charlie's weight, I think, and will make a good long rope buckled together."
"Columbus has been evidently sent back to bring assistance; and the old beggar has travelled too, by the look of him. What do you say to taking two of the others with us?"
"I suppose they will not sack the camp while we are away?" returned Brown.
"No, they are not civilized enough for that. Now let us make all the haste we can."
Columbus was instructed to tell two of the blacks to accompany them, and to explain to these men what had happened. This he did in several rapid sentences, and in a few minutes they were ready for the road. Their equipment was but light, as they only took their revolvers, candles, the surcingles, and a little food and some brandy, a small supply of which they had with them; this with their water-bags would be all they required, they reckoned. They pushed on with scarcely a rest all night, and found the advantage of having the natives with them, for they could not have found their way amongst the boulders in the dark.
About an hour before daylight they stood once more on the edge of the hole in which the crater had sunk. There was a decided bad odour arising from it, distinctly noticeable at that time.
Morton leaned over the edge and shouted "Below there!" as loud as he could. There was silence for a second or two, and then "Below there!" came thundering back.
"Echo," said Brown.
Morton tried again with the same result.
Brown fired his pistol, but the thunder of the echoes was the only answer.
"They must be poisoned with foul air," said Morton, in tones of the deepest sorrow.
"Must we wait until daylight?" asked Brown.
"I am afraid so. We might come to grief ourselves, and then it would be all up indeed. However, I think I can get down to the edge of the fissure without much danger, if you and the two blacks can hang on to the surcingles."
The preparations were soon completed, and Morton carefully made his way down the sloping sides of the hole and amongst the mud-encrusted boulders, by the help of the surcingles, which Brown and the two natives held above. It was slow work, for the candle he had gave out only a feeble light, but at last he found himself at the edge of the rift at the bottom. He stood there listening for some time; presently, with an up-blast of cold air that nearly extinguished his candle, came a strange wail as though some giant was sighing, far underground.
"Hear anything up there, Brown?" he shouted.
"Not a sound. Are you on level ground, can we slack off?"
"Yes, slack off. But do you think you could trust the two blacks to hold it while you come down? I will come back and show you a light."
"I'll chance it at any rate," returned Brown, and presently he stood beside his friend.
Morton told him of the strange sound he had heard, and both stood by the edge of the hole and listened. Once more the blast of cold air came and with it the melancholy and mysterious noise.
"That's no human or animal noise," said Brown; "it seems more like water or air escaping."